#looking like Patrick with 40 lashes

[imonlyhereforcrem]

I was casually looking something up on Coppermind and then got jumpscared:

This is an incredibly bold fashion choice and doesn’t fit with any other Thaylen portrait however it’s a reasonable interpretation of his description:

[polishksiezniczka]

Monsignor | Camerlengo Patrick McKenna x Reader

You meet il camerlengo for the first time at Mass, and he soon becomes captivated by you.

My first full-length oneshot! Sort of a slow burn but with some delicious fluff at the end. Please let me know if you have any requests or ideas for future works! 1.8k words

You had recently moved to Rome, your next diplomatic assignment being the US Embassy to the Holy See. The new challenges of your position were taxing, but you were proud of the work you did for your fellow citizens.

Being the good Catholic you were, you went to Mass as often as you could. And when in Rome—which boasted more than 900 churches—it was your goal to visit as many as you could. Although you had been living in the city for only a week or two, you had visited several parishes closer to your apartment to see if one appealed to you.

Today you decided to go to St. Peter’s Basilica for early morning service, hoping the crowds wouldn’t be as large. Aware of the Vatican’s strict dress code, you decided on a lovely vintage chiffon dress you had recently scored at a chic consignment shop. Its light coral color brought out the Y/E/C hues in your eyes, and it elegantly graced your figure while still leaving much up to the imagination. You paired it with sensible pumps and a loose white cardigan. You were feeling springlike today, it being a warm Sunday in April.

While you had visited the Vatican several times already on official diplomatic visits, you hadn’t yet as one of the faithful. As you silently made your way to the chapel, you marveled at the beautiful art surrounding you—the work of masters.

You chose to sit near the center aisle a few rows from the altar. The chapel quickly began to fill up; in a matter of minutes, you were surrounded by a trio of devout Italian nonne, clad in all-black, and a gaggle of starry-eyed Korean tourists.

As the processional music began, you felt your body ease into a state of peace. The ancient rituals of the Church always soothed you; they had not changed since you were a child and so provided a sense of comfort amidst an unpredictable world. You sang along, losing yourself in the beautiful melody.

When the hymnal ended, you lifted your gaze from your songbook to the altar. Your heart stopped as your eyes fell upon him—quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.

He was young, no more than 40 years of age. His hair was a rich auburn color, swept neatly into a well-groomed combover; you couldn’t help but admire how perfectly it framed his handsome face. His eyes, a lovely shade of blue, were mesmerizing. They reminded you of cerulean pools, clear and bright. His brows were furrowed in concentration, making him appear serious. His jawline was set in a strong, dignified way, sloping attractively down to his chin; there you could just make out a slight cleft. For all you knew, he was one of the marble statues carved by the same masters who had designed the basilica you were standing in.

Who was this man? That’s Father to you! you scolded yourself. You were in Church. And not just any Church—the Church! You tried to suppress your nascent infatuation, but you quickly succumbed to it, your eyes selfishly dragging down the rest of the priest’s body. He wore a white surplice over his black robes, highlighting the alluring musculature of his shoulders. His collar was a burst of white at the base of the column of his throat. His hands were clasped together in prayer in front of his chest, and you watched his eyes squeeze in concentration as he prayed along silently with the cardinal who stood beside him. His whole demeanor radiated safety, comfort, and protection.

You couldn’t help but stare, the chants of the prayer fading into the background. You couldn’t even look away. Even when he turned to look at you. You observed his eyes widening ever so slightly, his brow arching in curiosity. Regrettably, he seemed to catch himself after a few seconds, quickly averting his eyes away from you and back to his superior. The moment was so brief, you seriously doubted its authenticity. But there he was.

Mass passed by in a haze, your attempts at concentration all but shot. You tried to restrain yourself, but somehow your gaze always settled on him. It wasn’t until the pews ahead of you began to slowly shuffle toward for Communion that you momentarily became sensible again. As you stood and made your way toward the altar, your hands began to perspire. You ran through the expected response over and over again, worried you might choke on your own heart, which had invariably lodged itself in your throat.

Just as you had expected, he was even more beautiful up close. Like an angel. You were so taken by his handsomeness, his kind smile, his spellbinding eyes that you felt your chest tighten. Your eyes suddenly found the marble floor inexplicably fascinating.

He held up the thin wafer. “Il corpo di Cristo.”

You peered up at him from beneath your lashes and met his kind cerulean eyes again. They beamed down at you, joy and curiosity radiating from them. You quickly lost your ability to speak, momentarily dumbstruck. He must have sensed this, as a smile quirked the corner of his lips; you thought you were imagining things when the faintest chuckle reached your ears. If only you knew what he was thinking!

“Amen,” you whispered hurriedly, accepting the wafer in your trembling hands. You bowed to him and quickly stepped aside to genuflect before the altar. As you made your way to back to your pew, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance over your shoulder at him. As you expected, he was dutifully administering communion to the remaining parishioners. You sighed softly as you retook your place and knelt down.

Of course that’s what he’s doing! you scolded yourself. For the love of God, he’s a priest—why would he have feelings for you? Silly, foolish girl.

Your thoughts consumed you for the rest of Mass, even during the last processional hymnal. If only you had noticed the young priest’s longing glance at you as he walked past.

After the processional ended, you prepared to leave, but your shame got the best of you. As a penance you knelt and said five Hail Mary’s to atone for your distraction.

As you left your pew, you noticed how quiet the church had become. A few people remained, some finishing their prayers, others snapping pictures of the ornate altar. As you walked to the back of the chapel, you observed a small group of parishioners clustered near the back, no doubt socializing among themselves. You had planned to walk around them, but the group suddenly parted, putting you directly on course for him. The priest who had awoken in you a reaction so powerful, so complete, you couldn’t even think clearly.

The two parishioners he was speaking with said their farewells; then, he turned and noticed you. As your eyes met for the third time that morning, his face broke into a radiant smile. You approached him slowly, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You did your best to hold his gaze and maintain an air of confidence after your embarrassing conduct during the liturgy of the Eucharist. You stopped just short of a foot away from him, subconsciously holding your breath.

“Buongiorno, signorina,” he said. His voice was so velvety, so delightful, it practically overwhelmed your senses. Being so close allowed you to better study his chin’s adorable cleft, making you swoon. “Non ti ho mai visto prima a San Pietro. Stai visitando la nostra bellissima basilica mentre sei in vacanza?” His presence was oh so alluring—you couldn’t help but relax as air suddenly filled your lungs.

“Buongiorno, monsignor,” you replied carefully. “ No, ma sono nuovo a Roma. Vedi, mi sono trasferito qui due settimane fa. Lavoro per l'ambasciata degli Stati Uniti.”

He smiled knowingly, his eyes alight with intrigue. “So, you are an American?” The soft, gentle lilt of his accent sent a shiver up your spine. How was it possible that this man’s normal pleasantries were enough to provoke such a response in you?

“Yes, I am.”

“In that case, may I be the first to welcome you to Vatican City.” He bowed his head slightly in deference to you. “I am Father Patrick McKenna, il camerlengo to his Holiness. May I ask your name?”

“Y/F/N, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The camerlengo’s smile widened, and you momentarily glimpsed his dazzling white teeth. “Y/N…” he repeated thoughtfully. You cherished the way your name rolled off his tongue. “How lovely. Named after Saint Y/N if I am not mistaken?”

“Yes, Father,” you shyly responded. “I was raised in a very devout home.” You quickly averted your gaze to the floor, worrying that you had revealed too much about yourself. You certainly weren’t prepared for the camerlengo’s next remark:

“I…I hope to see you next weekend.” He spoke softly, tenderly.

Your eyes shot up to his face, eagerly finding his own. The camerlengo’s eyebrows were raised expectantly; a gentle smile graced his handsome features.

“Of course, Father. It was such a lovely Mass.” You tried to convey as much sincerity as you could with your voice.

He took your hand in his and cradled it, making your heart flutter even more rapidly in your chest. “I’m glad you thought so. In the meantime, do not make yourself a stranger.” For a moment, his eyes were expectant, and he nodded solemnly—as if holding you to a serious pledge—but his fervent expression quickly melted back into one of compassion again. “You are welcome anytime.”

Your cheeks took on a lovely pink color at his words as you beamed at him.“Grazie, Padre.” Reluctantly you added, “I believe I should be going now...” Your eyes flashed over your shoulder, subtly indicating a group of nonne eager to speak with him. “I would not want to keep you all to myself.” You shyly lifted your gaze to the camerlengo again.

He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with mirth at your remark. “May God bless you, Miss Y/L/N. Arrivederci.” As he said this, he traced the sign of the cross on your forehead, the scent of him filling your nostrils briefly. He smelled clean and masculine with a delightful hint of spiciness, which you immediately recognized to be frankincense. You savored the warmth of his skin on yours.

“Addio, monsignor,” you whispered breathlessly.

You found the courage to look into the camerlengo's spellbinding eyes once more before you turned to leave. As you exited the sacred space, you smiled to yourself, his words reverberating within you: do not be a stranger.

"Never, Father," you whispered. ¤

Translations

nonne = "grandmothers"

Il corpo di Cristo = "the body of Christ"

Non ti ho mai visto prima a San Pietro. Stai visitando la nostra bella chiesa durante le vacanze? = "I haven’t seen you before at St. Peter’s. Are you visiting our beautiful basilica while on holiday?"

No, ma sono nuovo a Roma. Vedi, mi sono appena trasferito qui due settimane fa. Lavoro con l'ambasciata degli Stati Uniti. = "No, but I am new to Rome. You see, I recently moved here a few weeks ago. I work for the US Embassy."

@seraferna @lemairepstuff

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.  

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace.  “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

*

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed,  giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Everything Burns - Chapter 11

Pairing: Ledger Joker X OC

Warnings: murder, death, Blood, knives, violence, guns.

Word count: 4,251

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 l Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Chapter 11 - The Joker's Girlfriend

When Scarlett woke she almost forgot about the night before. She peered around the room, that was most definitely not hers. She smiled as the memories of last night passed through her head. She turned over to find him, but she was alone in the bed. She peered around but Joker was nowhere to be seen, or should she say, Jack. The name felt alien to her but yet seemed to fit him perfectly.

"J?" she called out loud enough but there was no sound, she peered around her discarded clothes were still laying on the floor. She stood and stretched her back before she walked quickly to the adjoining bathroom. She peered into the mirror, she had pandas eyes and her hair was a little dishevelled but the most startling part of her reflection was her right eye. The bottom of her right eyelid was completely split in two, she touched a hand to the wound to feel the damage. It was badly swollen and the red, dried blood clung to her lashes, and her left an awful trail that reached her throat.

She hissed at the pain slightly, before she pulled open the medicine cabinet and looked inside, she pulled out a first aid box that looked as though it had never been opened before. Inside she found a cleaning wipe, and some butterfly strips, she cleaned the wound before applying the strips to hold the two parts of her eyelid together it would definitely scar, but she would still need to stitch it at some point.

She washed the rest of her face and combed her hair out with her fingers before she crept back to the bedroom. Still naked, she wrapped a thin sheet around herself, not fancying putting her dress back on. She crept to the door, pulled it open and peered out. The warehouse was filled with light and looked a lot bigger than it had last night.

A goon noticed her and came over quickly.

"Can you get The Joker for me?" she asked kindly and the hulking looking guy only grunted and nodded before he hurried off.

"Boss" she heard his voice a little way down the hall.

"WHAT!" The Joker's voice roared at the intrusion.

"That girl is up," said the goon simply though his voice was much quieter than before.

"Ahh, brilliant," said The Joker and his voice became lighter and happier than before.

"But if you call her 'that girl' again, I promise I will gut you," said The Joker before he laughed maniacally.

"Here, I went to your house and picked you up some stuff," he said handing her the bag, she took it and peered inside.

Scarlett shut the door and went to sit on the bed to wait for him. It wasn't long before he arrived, a bag in his hand. He grinned at her before he shut the door behind him.

"Did you sleep well gorgeous?" he asked and she simply nodded a grin on her face.

She dressed in her Jester outfit and applied make-up he had left in the bathroom, it clung uncomfortably to her butterfly stitches, pulling the wound apart again, causing it to start bleeding again. A part of her insane mind purred at the pain and she continued, ignoring the blood dripping down her face. Luckily she had kept all her outfit together including her lipstick otherwise he wouldn't have been able to find them.

Inside was the bag she kept her Jester outfit in, including her boots. She pulled the bag out to make sure all her outfit was there, and there in the bottom of the bag, were a bunch of slightly smashed flowers. She pulled them out and looked them over before she looked up at him, but he wasn't looking at her anymore.

"Thank you, Jack, they are beautiful," she said softly and he turned to her and grinned like a child a Christmas.

"Get dressed I have a job for you," he said suddenly before he turned and walked out. She picked up her flowers again and sniffed them deeply. Though many of the heads had fallen off or were drooping, the gesture was sweet. Especially for him.

She hoped her cat would be okay for a while since she wasn't sure when she would be home. She tied up her hair messily and left the room. She walked quietly along the hallway he had taken her along last night before she came across, an open door. He sat inside behind an enormous leather-topped desk, on the wall were newspaper cuttings and other articles of paper.

"Melvin get in here!" he shouted and she tried not to jump at the sudden sound.

"Hello Jester!" he cheered and she smiled happily to him.

"Wait, your eye," he said standing and rushing towards her. He reached a hand up and brushed at the blood on her cheek. He looked at the blood on the tip of his glove as though it had offended him.

"It's fine, 'it'll stop in a bit" she assured him. He stared at her for a moment, anger across his face but then he was grinning, content with the answer he returned to his chair.

A man in his mid-thirties came running into the room looking rather panicked.

"Yes boss," he said his eyes wide with fear, he was clearly slightly unhinged.

"Melvin, meet Jester. Jester this is Melvin. Melvin is an escaped Arkham inhabitant, he is going to help us kill Harvey Dent" said the Joker before he handed Jester a file from the desk. She opened it, inside was a list of names taken from the phone book, circled in pen were the names Patrick Harvey and Richard Dent.

"Harvey Dent," she said slowly and The Joker laughed.

"I felt like we need to give the real Harvey a warning, besides I need somewhere the police will find this" he held up a newspaper that had tomorrows date on it and at the top, it read 'Obituaries. Mayor Anthony Garcia aged 40'

"You're going to kill the mayor" she stated and The Joker simply nodded his grin wider than ever.

"I'll explain more later, for now, you and Mr White here are going to see Harvey and Dent. But Jester, don't touch the bodies with your bare hands and leave the hard work to Melvin. You are going to be more of a supervisor," he said and Jester nodded to him.

"Take these and place them on one of the bodies. Harvey and Dent live next door to each other so you're going to have to do a little arranging" he said and Scarlett nodded before Melvin arrived in the doorway again.

"I got you these," he said after Melvin had left to ready himself and Jester looked over, The Joker held out a pair of dark purple leather gloves.

"Oh more presents," she said and Joker cackled.

"So we don't get any of your fingerprints on anything I can't afford to have you caught just yet," he said and she smiled as she pulled off her finger-less gloves and pulled on the ones he had given her, they were much like his own.

Soon after that Melvin and Jester left. Melvin, like Joker, had said, was a previous patient at Arkham but since then had been working for Maroni which is why he now worked for The Joker.

They arrived at the apartment building across the road from the apartment Patrick Harvey lived in, the shot was clear and Melvin set up his rifle. Jester stood back and allowed him to take the shot, only once Patrick was dead did they move across to the other building. Jester laughed at the simplicity of the job and she had to admit Melvin was an impressive shot.

However, Richard Dent would not be so easy there were no buildings that overlooked his windows and so no way for Melvin to use his rifle. A little hand on action would be needed to take Dent out. They arrived at the door next to Patrick Harvey's and Jester knocked.

"Hello" she called in the most convincing damsel in distress voice she could muster.

"Who is it?" came the gruff voice from the other side of the door.

"My name is Claire and I just moved in down the hall. I wondered if you would help me move some furniture as its far too heavy for me" Jester called pathetically and then she heard movement behind the door before the door was pulled open and a man stood there at first he smiled broadly, but then it soon faded.

"Why are you dressed like that?" he said looking at Jester strangely but she simply grinned as Melvin stepped out from behind her, gun raised. Richard Dent held his hands up. Melvin and Jester moved him back into the apartment, before shutting the door softly behind them.

"What do you want! You want money, I'll give you money" said Richard Dent his hands held up as he began to sweat.

"No we don't want your money!" said Jester and she laughed loudly. Richard continued to move further into the room, and Jester watched him closely before he ducked behind the sofa and pulled out a handgun pointing it straight at Jester's head.

The sound of the bullet was silenced into a small 'pew' noise but the damage was not reduced. The bullet tore through Richards skull and out the front of his head, passing inches from Jester's face and into the wall by the window, in-bedding itself there. Richard did not fall as quickly as Jester had expected and she had managed to wipe the bloody spray from her face before his corpse had hit the ground.

"Go on Richard, Pull the trigger!" she dared him

"How do you know my name?" he stuttered, Richard was too busy watching Jester that he didn't notice as Melvin came up behind him and pressed his gun into the back of Richard's head.

"Go and get Patrick from next door and I'll set up something nice for the police," said Jester to Melvin who simply nodded before he disappeared out the door and down the hall.

She pulled Richard's heavy corpse off the floor and onto a chair before she pushed the chair to the table, making a horrible scraping noise along the wooden floor. She pushed him under the table and lay his floppy body along the table, he still wore a name badge from wherever he worked and she positioned it so the police could easily see it.

Melvin arrives dragging Patrick's body as Jester placed a set of Joker cards in Richard's hand. She helped Melvin sit Patrick on the opposite side of the table before she painted both there faces like The Joker had Brian's. Lastly, she placed the newspaper The Joker had given her in clear view. It was dark out by the time they left the apartment building.

They headed back to the van and once inside Jester handed Melvin a mobile phone.

"Call 911, tell them where to find Harvey Dent," she said holding the phone out to him

He took it slowly and he stared at her for a second, before he dialled the number and held it up to his ear.

"Police" he answered into the phone.

Jester laughed wildly as she took the phone from him and threw it out the window. before she started the engine on the van and drove off.

She heard the operator ask Melvin a question but he did not answer, simply stating.

"Eight and Orchard, You'll find Harvey Dent there," he said clearly before he pulled the phone away and hung up.

They arrived at the warehouse just as the sky was going black, and walked in together and Jester greeted the rest of the goons.

"You did good today," said Melvin and she turned to him and smiled her thanks.

"I never thought that clowns were sexy before, but damn," he groaned and she turned to him again frowning a little.

He raised his eyebrows at her and she scoffed.

"Don't play hard to get, you know we had a connection back there!" he laughed as she turned her back on him and began to head towards the stairs. The impact on her arse cheek stopped her in her tracks and she turned back to him. He was smirking at her like an idiot, he had definitely slapped her on the arse.

"I really wouldn't do that if I was you" she warned and he laughed.

"You think you're intimidating? You're not like him, you're just a slut in a clown get up" he spat. She could see that her rejection was not going down well.

The laugh filled the air like a siren, and Melvin went pale. The Joker leapt at him knocking Melvin to the ground before he stood and began to kick Melvin over and over in the chest.

"I think you owe the lady an apology," said The Joker snarling and Scarlett's heart swelled he was protecting her and her honour.

"I'm sorry" Melvin chocked out but The Joker did not stop his abuse. Instead, he grabbed Melvin by the collar and held him to the ground his knife was now drawn and pressing into Melvin's neck hard.

"I don't think she heard you, you piece of human filth. You dare call her that, but worse of all you dared to touch her. MINE." said the Joker his voice dark as he held Melvin in place. The Joker let out a manic laugh before the blade sliced along Melvin's throat like it were softer than butter. The Joker stood and looked down at the pathetic creature at his feet, choking on its own blood, before he turned to Jester and his eyes inspected here.

"Are you okay?" he said quietly and she nodded a smile on her face. To her delusionally twisted mind, there was nothing in the world more romantic than what she had just witnessed.

He only nodded as he fished for something in his pockets.

She turned on her heel and wandered off up the stairs and The Joker followed quickly. She led him into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

"How did it go today?" he asked as she flopped onto the bed.

"Urr what? Oh yeah fine, I did everything you asked," she said dreamily as she stared up at the canopy of the bed above her.

"That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me" she sighed and he looked over at her.

"What was?" he asked his voice almost angry.

"You, what you did just now, protecting my honour like that," she said leaping up from the bed quickly, Joker simply shrugged and she grinned at him.

"People shouldn't touch my things," he said looking at her and she frowned.

Hi voice raw, muttering the whole time "I like it, I like it".

"You don't think of me as an object do you?" she asked a little worry seeping into her voice.

"No, you're not an object, but you are mine. You're my girl" he said and she grinned like a lunatic and ran towards him.

"As in girlfriend?" she asked and The Joker shrugged again.

"If you want" he muttered.

"I love you, Jack. What do you think?" she said laughing and he suddenly cackled widely at her.

"My girlfriend. Good, I LIKE it. MINE!" he cried excitably his voice higher than usual. She closed the gap between them and kissed him on the cheek, he turned his head and captured her lips before he pulled her closer his arms around her waist tightly. With a loud thud, he pushed her against the wall and pulled her legs up around his waist. She giggled as he began chewing on her collarbone.

[catgirlinhell]

try a find a good eyelash extension place bc a lot of them around here only do dramatic full sets for like 120$ look like Patrick 40 lashes

[tabloidtoc]

Star, June 8

Cover: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are neighbors from hell

Page 1: Baby number 6 for Jude Law -- months after wishing for a bigger family Jude steps out with his pregnant wife Phillipa Coan

Page 2: Contents, Kate Hudson and daughter Rani 

Page 3: Jason Momoa revved up his vintage 1947 Harley-Davidson in Agoura Hills, pregnant Ciara and Russell Wilson and kids Sienna and birthday boy Future, Brooke Burke 

Page 4: When filming on Jeopardy! was shut down due to the coronavirus fans worried there would be no more new shows with Alex Trebek so they were overjoyed when a month-long slate of fresh episodes taped before the lockdown began airing with the beloved host who’s been bravely battling stage 4 pancreatic cancer for more than a year still at the helm 

Page 5: Friends’ much-anticipated reunion is on hold due to the coronavirus and there’s trouble behind the scenes -- Jennifer Aniston wants to pull out of the special and a bloated and disheveled Matthew Perry has costars like Courteney Cox wondering if he’ll even show up but Lisa Kudrow and David Schwimmer and Matt LeBlanc are raring to go because it’s going to be a nice career boost, Naomi Watts and her ex Liev Schreiber agreed to hole up together during the quarantine for the sake of their sons Sasha and Kai but the arrangement came with a catch: Liev insisted on bringing his girlfriend of two years Taylor Niesen into the fold and while Naomi is fond of Taylor it’s awkward to say the least, Carrie Underwood has had some work done to repair her pout

Page 6: Christopher Meloni will guest star as Elliot Stabler in the premiere episode of Law & Order: SVU’s 22nd season to help launch his own spinoff series and nobody is happier than Mariska Hargitay that Chris is back, Jonah Hill is so in love with his dog Carmela that he takes her everywhere including business appointments but she smells and slobbers and scratches herself constantly and it drives people crazy including clean-freak pal Leonardo DiCaprio, Star Spots the Stars -- Karlie Kloss, Emma Roberts, Brad Paisley and Lady Antebellum, Whitney Port, Emily Hampshire, Tinashe, Francesca Farago and Harry Jowsey 

Page 8: Star Shots -- Tarek El Moussa bike riding with kids Brayden and Taylor, Kaia Gerber and her blue cast reading by the pool

Page 9: Pierce Brosnan and son Dylan, Lindsey Vonn planking with her dog Lucy on her back, Nicole Kidman smelling a flower 

Page 10: Reese Witherspoon and dogs, Jessica Simpson, Andy Cohen and son Benjamin 

Page 11: Gisele Bundchen and a flower, Patrick Schwarzenegger taking a dip in the ocean in Laguna Beach

Page 12: Lance Bass, Gal Gadot on a stroll with daughter Maya 

Page 14: Jennifer Lopez, Kristen Bell gave blood, pregnant Katy Perry rocked floral fashion in honor of her new song Daisies

Page 15: Chrissy Teigen and John Legend with kids Luna and birthday boy Miles 

Page 16: Maria Shriver on a walk, Maksim Chmerkovskiy and wife Peta Murgatroyd and son Shai, Whitney Cummings in jammies doing her podcast 

Page 17: Elizabeth Hurley and her dog, Demi Moore gathered mushrooms 

Page 18: Normal or Not? Ben Affleck breaks into his own home after he and Ana de Armas got locked out -- not, Post Malone donned combat-ready headgear to play Call of Duty -- not, Mindy Kaling does yoga -- normal 

Page 20: Fashion -- stars wow in fresh mint hues -- Cate Blanchett, Chrissy Teigen

Page 21: Tessa Thompson, Rihanna 

Page 24: Brian Austin Green is left heartbroken as wife Megan Fox moves on with costar Machine Gun Kelly a.k.a. Colson Baker 

Page 25: Mel Gibson has found true love with Rosalind Ross and he’s ready to seal the deal, Rooney Mara and Joaquin Phoenix are expecting their first child together this summer and they’re really looking forward to being parents even if that means putting off their wedding in order to focus on their bundle of joy who will be raised vegan, Olivia Wilde and Jason Sudeikis are putting more effort into their relationship after hitting a rough patch -- the problems began with their conflicting schedules and as Olivia’s directing career began to skyrocket Jason’s projects continued to dwindle 

Page 26: Cover Story -- Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are the worst neighbors ever -- residents of the gated community where Harry and Meghan are staying say they’re disrespectful and have turned the tranquil spot into a circus 

Page 30: Mary-Kate Olsen’s divorce disaster -- Mary-Kate’s bitter split from her much older husband Olivier Sarkozy takes a nasty new turn 

Page 32: Matt Lauer on the Attack -- breaking his silence Matt lashes out at enemy Ronan Farrow calling his scathing book shoddy journalism -- Matt still thinks he can recover from his epic fall from grace 

Page 34: Celebrity Dads and Their Darling Daughters -- Don and Dakota Johnson 

Page 35: Michael and Carys Douglas, John and Ella Bleu Travolta, Lionel and Sofia Richie, Phil and Lily Collins 

Page 36: Ryan and Ava Phillippe, Johnny and Lily-Rose Depp

Page 37: Mark and Lola Consuelos, Alec and Ireland Baldwin, Rod and Ruby Stewart, Lenny and Zoe Kravitz, Clint and Francesca Eastwood 

Page 38: Style -- beaded bags -- Bailee Madison 

Page 40: Beauty -- wow at your vows -- makeup -- Margot Robbie, Emily Ratajkowski, Jennifer Lopez 

Page 41: Hair -- Kendall Jenner, Gisele Bundchen, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley 

Page 42: Entertainment 

Page 48: Parting Shot -- Britney Spears on a raft in a pool

[brianafxlice]

Tarte - Review

I believe I was first introduced to Tarte cosmetics by watching a vlog on YouTube. A bunch of beauty influencers such as PatrickStarrr, MannyMUA, and Bretman Rock, all of which exceed 4 million subscribers on YouTube, were treated to a Hawaiian vacation. All influencers stayed in a luxurious resort and were given an itinerary for meals and fun activities, fully paid by the company. My first impression of Tarte was definitely extravagant. I was impressed by the company’s tactic to invite social media stars to Hawaii and show off one of the many natural ecosystems they collect their ingredients from. That’s why even before working at Sephora, Tarte has always been one of those brands that stood out to me. Their concept of promoting eco-friendly products and lifestyle is very attractive. 

Before I review some of their products, I wanted to chat a little more about the actual company. I did some research on Tarte’s website (https://tartecosmetics.com/en_US/explore/about-tarte/)  and went to their about page. Not only does this brand encourage and use natural ingredients, but they are also hypoallergenic, cruelty-free, vegan-friendly, and like to give back to the environment and protect it. Tarte cooperatively works in ways that will ensure that the ecosystem in which they obtain their ingredients is well taken care of, including environments such as the rainforest and the ocean. The website also briefly talks about the idea of kindness and being a good samaritan. 

As most people believe, the more natural the ingredients, the better the products. I can almost 100% agree with that. There are a lot of brands, I won’t name companies, that try their best to incorporate natural ingredients, and sometimes, it just doesn’t work. I can strongly say that Tarte is a very environment, animal, and human friendly company and also has some amazing products. 

*An important note: on every Tarte product listed on their website, the tag always reads, “Always formulated without parabens, mineral oil, phthalates, triclosan, sodium lauryl sulfate, and gluten.” A lot of makeup and skin care products contain these ingredients that aren’t too good for the skin. Again, Tarte’s motto is all about “the natural.” Which is why they use fruit and plant extracts such as maracuja fruit and marine algae. 

I am about to list some of the products from Tarte that I have personally used and found that they work amazingly:

-Drink of H2O Hydrating Boost Moisturizer

https://tartecosmetics.com/en_US/best-sellers/drink-of-h2o-hydrating-boost-moisturizer/777.html?cgid=best-sellers&dwvar_777_color=multi#start=21

This is a vegan, hydrating moisturizer, filled with electrolytes. It can be used everyday to smooth and soothe skin. In my opinion, it gives a beautiful, natural glow once applied. I’ve seen this product on many people, so I know that it works well with all types of skin. 

-Rainforest of the Sea Water Foundation 

https://tartecosmetics.com/en_US/best-sellers/water-foundation-broad-spectrum-spf-15/772.html?dwvar_772_color=medium-tan%20golden&cgid=best-sellers#page=2&start=40

This is a vegan, hypoallergenic, water-based foundation with medium (buildable) coverage. It gives a very natural finish to the skin and is supposed to have a lightweight feel. I personally think that because this product is water-based, it gives that extra hydration for people with dry skin, but for those with oily skin, I would just recommend using a mattifying primer underneath this foundation.

-Aquacealer Concealer

https://tartecosmetics.com/en_US/best-sellers/aquacealer-concealer/767.html?cgid=best-sellers&dwvar_767_color=fair-light#page=2&start=44

Much like the Sea Water foundation, the Aquacealer Concealer also gives a natural, medium coverage for under eyes, dark spots, and blemishes. I believe this product does a great job when one wants to build up the coverage. Another perk to this product is that it acts as a hydrating serum as well. 

-Rainforest of the Sea Quench Hydrating Primer 

https://tartecosmetics.com/en_US/best-sellers/rainforest-of-the-sea-quench-hydrating-primer/1332.html?cgid=best-sellers&dwvar_1332_color=multi#page=2&start=46

This is a great product for my “lazies” out there or if you’re in a rush. I love using this product because it pretty much acts as a moisturizer and primer in one, so you have skin care and makeup coming together. I highly recommend this product for people with dry skin, and applying it before putting on your foundation. 

-Maneater Voluptuous Mascara

https://tartecosmetics.com/en_US/makeup/eyes/mascara/maneater-mascara/856.html?dwvar_856_color=black&cgid=makeup-eyes-mascara#start=4

This is one of Tarte’s many mascaras that gives perfect length, volume, and dark pigment to your lashes. This product works great if you’re looking for maybe a more fluttery, wispy lash look. I personally love this mascara because it does a great job of lifting my (nonexistent) lashes and because it DOES NOT flake! I also highly recommend trying this mascara on your bottom lashes, I promise they’ll look beautiful.

Also, if you’d like to check out the YouTubers that I listed above, here are there channel links:

-Patrick Starrr

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDHQbU57NZilrhbuZNbQcRA

-MannyMUA

https://www.youtube.com/user/MannyMua733

-Bretman Rock

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC3EFKdXAU99j3ppGgvTz7XQ

If you ever have the opportunity to play with Tarte at Sephora or Ulta, I highly recommend investing in their products. This is a great company, with a beautiful message of promoting natural beauty with the beautiful nature around us!

[pjbehindthesun]

Character Profile: Cora

Hey hi hello. When I asked you how you wanted to celebrate the latest reader milestone, you voted to see Cora's character profile in full. Here it is! Or, here it is, current as of chapter 23 (I had to take some stuff out, you know how it is). So if you're not through chapter 23 yet, there may be some undesired spoilers. And if you’re current up through chapter 23, then maybe some mild desired spoilers, who knows. Enjoy!

Name: Cora Lane Shaw

Age: 22 when the story starts. She’ll be 40 when it ends. (I told you guys, we got a whiiiiile yet to go…)

Nationality: American, with mostly Scottish and Irish ancestry.

Socioeconomic level as a child: Very poor early on, but became more solidly middle class once her mother remarried.

Socioeconomic level as an adult: At the start of the story, she’s able to make ends meet, but she’s pretty much living paycheck to paycheck and sharing living expenses with Alex.

Hometown: The general Asheville, NC area is all she’s ever told anyone. She has not told anyone the actual name of her hometown yet. She’s kind of embarrassed by it.

Current residence: At the beginning of the fic, she lives in Seattle WA.

Occupation: PhD student at UW College of Forest Resources, also a part-time waitress at Cyclops cafe. Her career will obviously change over the course of the fic.

Income: She gets a small stipend from working as a teaching assistant in her department, and picks up a little extra money waitressing.

Talents/Skills: Her biggest skill is being extremely book smart. She has decent wilderness skills. She had to learn some basic thriftiness skills like knitting and sewing, although she hates all that stuff. She does like to cook and bake but only because it appeals to her inner scientist. She also plays guitar (badly) and mandolin (worse).

Birth order: Oldest of two.

Siblings (describe relationship): She has one younger brother, Patrick, who she calls Patch and who is four years younger than her. Patch is 18 at the start of the fic. The two are extremely close, although nothing alike, and Cora is very protective of him. But she also relies heavily on his opinion.

Parents (describe relationship): Her biological parents are Shirley and Paul. Paul left when Cora was 8 years old and she has not seen or heard from him since. She has fond (albeit childlike) memories of him, but of course, his departure had a deep impact on her ability to trust people and her view of what commitment means. She has a terrible relationship with her mother, which has more to do with John, the man her mother remarried, than anything else. Whenever she has to go back to North Carolina, she stays with her childhood best friend's parents instead of her own.

Grandparents (describe relationship): She doesn't know her dad's parents or anything about them. Her mom's father died when her mom was very young, and her maternal grandmother is in a nursing home with dementia after having suffered a stroke a few years ago.

Significant others (describe relationship): At the beginning of the fic, she is dating Alex Henderson. Alex is a year older than her but they were the same year in college and met during the first month of freshman year. They used to have a very relaxed, fun-loving, easy relationship in which neither of them expected much from the other. But moving across the country together has exposed some of the fault lines that they hadn't noticed before. They do not share many worldviews or hobbies, and they never developed good communication skills as a couple. Their sex life used to be great but has dwindled to essentially nothing at all. They don't really fight, they just fall into cycles of ignoring/dismissing one another until one of them feels compelled to put more effort into the relationship to keep it going. Alex is the first boyfriend she’s ever had. She will have other relationships as the story progresses.

In a relationship: She throws herself entirely into everything she does, relationships included. Recently, things with Alex have gotten more distant and complicated, but generally, her relationship style is to be very loving and loyal and committed. She tends to develop huge blind spots, and she has terrible communication skills, preferring to hide from uncomfortable truths and lashing out when she’s called on it. But she’s good at using her sense of humor to diffuse bad situations and get things back to normal. Despite a heavy-handed religious upbringing, she enjoys sex and is... not particularly repressed about it.

Height: 5’3 if she stands up straight

Weight: 125 lbs

Race: Caucasian

Eye color: Very dark brown

Hair color: Bright red

Glasses or contact lenses? She wears glasses when she reads sometimes but not routinely.

Skin color: Very pale, very freckled.

Shape of face: Oval

How does she dress? She’s definitely a tomboy. She wears a lot of jeans and grandpa sweaters. (One pair of jeans in particular has a bunch of raggedy holes from a literal acid wash thanks to a lab accident.) She owns three skirts and zero dresses (with the exception of the Day-Glo orange bridesmaid’s dress). Footwear of choice is either Converse or Doc Martens.

Habits: (smoking, drinking etc.) She will smoke occasionally but only socially, not as a habit. She does drink a lot of bourbon, like, way too much bourbon. Can be a bit of a pothead, although not as much in grad school.

Health: She’s pretty healthy, but it’s almost by accident. She’s a vegetarian, and she likes to ride her bike more than drive (or she did, before she gave away her bike...), but those habits have to do with her environmental convictions, not being a fitness nut. She does not generally sleep well or take great care of herself outside of those activities, although she does periodically go for a run to clear her head.

Hobbies: Reading, running/biking/hiking/anything that gets her outside, cooking and baking. And sometimes playing guitar. Again, badly.

Speech patterns: She speaks very quickly and moves her hands a lot when she talks. She has a faint NC accent despite having tried hard to shed it. Her favorite swears are religious, like “sweet merciful zombie Jesus.”

Greatest flaw: Perfectionism in the unhealthiest way. This applies to her standards for herself (personally and professionally) as well as a rigidity in how she navigates her life. She also has a short temper.

Best quality: Her idealism drives her to make the world better. Not just in her planned career, but in how she deals with other people as well. She’s not an optimist but she wants to make a difference.

Short-term goals in life: On the immediate horizon, pass her prelim exams, get a fellowship, and publish her first paper from her research. In the initial months of the fic, her other primary short-term goal was to keep her relationship with Alex thriving, although she has become less committed to that idea recently.

Long-term goals in life: Finish her PhD, get a tenure-track job at a research university, and use evidence to impact people's decisions for the greater good. She���s always seen that happening through a career in scientific research. She doesn’t have distinct personal goals like “get married, have kids,” because she prizes her independence and has misgivings about some of those life choices, at least as she understands them right now.

How does she see herself? She second-guesses herself constantly, both personally and professionally. She doesn’t have a very high opinion of her looks, but she doesn’t get bent out of shape about it either. She finds other things to have low self-esteem about, like her foot-in-mouth tendencies or her perfectionism in school or her worry of hurting other people.

What would most embarrass her? She hates it when she puts her foot in her mouth and says something rude to a person she really cares about. She would also be very embarrassed to be seen as vulnerable in any way.

Strengths and weaknesses: Strengths are intelligence, altruism, humor, stubbornness, and generosity. Weaknesses are emotional fragility, stubbornness, short temper, inflexibility, anxiety. 

Introvert or Extrovert? Introvert

How does she deal with anger? Her temper flares. She's not good with it at all. 

With loss? Not well. She internalizes it and it sometimes causes her to hold on to people she probably shouldn't. 

What makes her happy? Being in nature, being with her (very few) loved ones, and scientific discovery. 

Rude or polite? Rude for sure.

What motivates her? Fear of failure and loss. Altruism and ideals.

Is she ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof? Almost always logic, although there are certain circumstances where she can be swept up in a moment.

Does she believe in God? Absolutely not. She was raised Catholic and still carries a lot of Catholic guilt around in her personality, but she’s pretty dismissive of spirituality in general.

Relationships with others:

1. Alex: They start out dating. They met when she was still a very naive 17 year old, and he’s been her whole world ever since. She’s starting to lose patience with him and doubt how truthful he’s being. And of course, she’s keeping a secret from him too.

2. Lucy: Best friend. Lives downstairs. You haven’t heard how they met yet but it’s a good story and you’ll hear it eventually from one of them. Suffice it to say they hit it off immediately.

3. Chris: Chris is the first member of the “Seattle scene” she met, out on their hike in an undisclosed location in the Northern Cascades. They have a deep friendship but they don’t see each other very often due to their respective schedules.

4. Jeff: Neighbors. They formally meet for the first time at the Off Ramp and don't really hit it off right away. He is annoyed by her sense of humor. Gradually he warms up to her as he understands her relationship with Lucy better. But they are always a little at odds.

4. Stone: She meets Stone at the Off Ramp at the same time as Jeff. They form a friendship very quickly, although Stone has feelings for her from the very start. She realizes slowly that she has feelings for him as well. Then... some things happen. It gets complicated, and not complicated.

4. Eddie: It takes a while for Eddie to stop being “that new guy” to anyone, including Cora. But she initially strikes up a conversation with him because she feels bad for how lonely he looks, and they hit it off well. They have a habit of oversharing with one another.

5. Patch: Little brother. Adores him, thinks the world of him, needs his validation for everything she does, is extremely protective of him.

How she is different at the end of the novel from when the novel began: Obviously much older, and much more flexible in her ideas.

[thelostsmiles]

If this is how I feel with having just seen him, I can’t even imagine how it’ll be meeting him one day...

This year has been a blessing. April and May have been my favorite so far. I wanted to write about Letters Live in NY this past weekend but how could I when I haven’t even written about the IW premiere? I share my moment with you now :) It’s long but it’s everything I want to say and pictures are included so if you’re up for it, enjoy x

I had already been planning to go to the Avengers Infinity War LA premiere since last year. I asked for the day off and things were looking good.

The premiere was on Monday. With so many high profile celebrities attending, I expected a big crowd. Even so, I underestimated the event. I got there on Sunday early afternoon and there were already about 40 people in front of me. I did not lose hope though. Night time came and the workers started putting up tall, black barricades along the sidewalk, the same sidewalk where we were standing waiting. Everyone around me got discouraged because it seemed we wouldn’t even be able to see them walk the red carpet (it was actually purple in representation of Thanos). I felt a little anxious about it but I was already there and I was in it for the long-haul. After a chilly night, morning came and people started putting away the camping gear they had laid out. Some women left to use public restrooms to change into nicer clothes and others left to get breakfast. I had formed an alliance with two comic book aficionados in front of me and a couple of lovely teenage girls behind me who were there to see Seb. We watched each others place in line as we took turns leaving our spot for necessities. I refused to drink and eat too much in fear that I’d miss an announcement or something of the sort. Around 11am, we saw police officers come near us and they started taking measurements up against the black gates that were in place. They didn’t give us any updates but we kept on eye on them and tried to listen to their conversation. Our biggest fear was that they would block every one and nobody would get to see a single thing. About 15 minutes later, I saw them from a distance coming back with tall and wide hedges that were to be placed next to the ends of the gates to look pretty. They were closing off everyone that wasn’t in the very front inside of this bullpen looking box. I was right next to the closing section. I did not just sleep on the cold, hard floor for nothing. I was not about to miss my opportunity of seeing Benedict for the first time. The group in front of me asked the people in front of them if they would squeeze forward to allow us to get closer behind them. Surprisingly, they did. And that’s when I somehow managed to get into the box right before the hedges went up and they closed everyone else off. It ended up being about 100-150? fans in the box. I had made it! I would be getting a wrist band guaranteeing that I would see the stars... the one star I was there for.

After a couple more hours and a few issues here and there, the time had come. I was at the very front up against the gate. I was quite happy because since I’m short, there’s no way I’d get to see anything if I was in the back with taller people in front of me. I had my special comic book open and ready. I was set.

I saw Tom Holland, Tom Hiddleston, Zoe Saldana, Mark Ruffalo, Paul Rudd, Chadwick Boseman, Dave Bautista, Anthony Russo, Stan Lee, Chris Hemsworth, Karen Gillan, Letitia Wright, Gwyneth Paltrow, and more. They were all lovely but both Toms, Mark, and Paul were by far the sweetest of all!

I was yet to see my main man. I was getting nervous. I had many thoughts rushing through my mind. What if he arrives too late and doesn’t have time to greet us? What if he does make his way over but only does one half of the crowd and then leaves? What if, what if, what if. I forced myself to stop thinking and just wait. I did. I waited.

From where I was standing I could see the main stage on the carpet in front of me to my left. (We were across the street. Think of it as them on one sidewalk and us on the other with two lanes in between us.) I kept looking over there standing on my toes as if that would help me get a better view. I saw all sorts of celebrities go up but not B.

I had my phone in my pocket because the last thing I wanted was my battery to die at the most inconvenient moment (which wouldn’t matter anyways). I remember looking down at my book admiring the autographs my nerdy self had already collected. I was trying to figure out a certain signature when my phone started buzzing. It vibrated once then twice, three times, a fourth and so on. It kept vibrating but it didn’t feel like a phone call. They were alerts. I took a quick peak at the screen as it lit up and I didn’t even have to open any of them. I already knew what it was about having read the first line, “HE’S THERE! AND WITH SOPHIE!” My heart went into tachycardia and my palms started sweating. I said a silent and genuine thank you to my friends for having my back and keeping me updated on twitter

There were other stars still coming near us to sign but I honestly do not remember who. I was busy keeping my eyes on Benedict. I didn’t want to lose sight of him until I did. Oh, no. Where had he gone?

The fun group of girls that stood behind me in line were about 5 people away next to my left. They were really tall and had a better view at the starting point. I heard one of them call out, “Alex! He’s here! He’s coming!” I wouldn’t shut up about my love for B and DS the whole time and everyone knew I was there for him. The man next to my left who was also taller than me (everyone is taller than me lol) also caught a glimpse of him and he nudged me to tell me that the Master of the Mystic Arts himself was getting closer to our side. 

Oh my literal god. I kept telling myself to relax but it didn’t do much. The tears that had formed earlier found a way out and they were now rolling down my cheeks. At least I wasn’t sobbing and I most certainly did not get hysterical. I started saying his name. “Benedict! Benedict... Benedict.” He was arriving to our side and I was finally able to see him now. He got to the man next to me and he spoke to him. Upon hearing that deep, smooth voice, I could’ve fainted there and then had I let myself. It is a dream like no other. Was I breathing? Thank God it’s an automatic mechanism because I would’ve forgotten how to do it. I’m surprised I didn’t drop the book I was holding out in front of me. 

Now, remember, I’m short. The lady behind me had a big poster wrapped around a piece of cardboard and she had placed that over my head and it hung in front of me covering me a bit. I was just about to shove it away from me when this angel came to my rescue. He pushed the poster aside to get a better look at me. The poster faded away and that’s when I saw him directly in front of me. I have never seen anyone so beautiful and so very handsome and gorgeous and stunning and brilliant and marvelous and all good things as he is before. This will sound cliché but oh well. It’s true. I did not know true beauty until he was standing right there inches in front of me. 

I forgot how to do anything but keep my eyes open and smile. These two pics were taken by the man next to me who was kind enough to share them with me afterwards. In the second pic, you can see he’s looking my way. Maybe he noticed that mean lady behind me? It was now my turn and I was beyond happy. Something clicked in my brain and it told me to speak up. “Benedict... Benedict. Patrick Melrose. You’re going to be amazing!” He was already signing my book but he paused as if in shock that someone mentioned PM. Still holding the sharpie in one hand and the book with the other, he looked up at me and smiled. Let me take a fangirl moment here and scream because aaaaaahhhh he looked right into my own two eyes! He was wearing glasses but the California sun was peering through the shades and this allowed me to see his golden lashes flicker up and down. Still looking at me, he said the sweetest most sincere, “Thank you.” I could tell it meant a lot to him because there he was, standing with a crowd that was chanting “Ben”, “Doctor Strange” and “Stephen” the whole time (which makes sense given that it was AIW) and this shorty (me) was saying a completely different name. It caught his attention and why wouldn’t it? It is his passion project. I have been wanting to tell him all the things I feel about this project since the day we found out he was cast as the leading man. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to in these few seconds of interaction with him. I said what I thought would be enough to convey what I felt for the most part. Having now seen BN, I can safely say I was right. He finished signing his last name and in that moment I realized I was grateful he has a long name because that just means he takes a little longer with the fans :P

He proceeded to sign the others next to me. Even the pushy lady behind me because he’s kind like that. Karon tapped him to ask him something and he turned around towards his right. Bless her. This gave me extra time to admire him. After, he continued signing for the men next to my right and I still kept looking at him. He was undeniably gorgeous in that chocolate velvet suit. The moment had finally made its way into my brain and I couldn’t help myself any longer. With a few tears running down my face I said, “I love you, Benedict.” What happened next is something I never expected to experience in my entire life and, therefore, it took me by surprise. He actually heard me and replied back, “Love you too, darling.” This is the moment my soul left my body. I died a little this day. I got an “ily” and a “darling”. I don’t need anything ever again to live. This is more than enough.

He finished the section, waved and blew a kiss to everyone, said thanks and walked away. That was it. He walked back onto the carpet and into the tent and he was gone. He may have left but the memory of what I have shared with you now has stayed with me since. I cherish it more than anything I own, more than  other amazing moments that have happened to me. Writing this weeks later, I have seen him two other times now but nothing compares to the first moment when you see someone who you love and admire with all your heart. I realize how fortunate I am to have this and I will never take it for granted.

[thornedmemorybox-blog]

Shelter

(A Short Story)

I love the orphanage.

The memories. I can still remember my arrival; I wore a t-shirt with blue and white stripes, ragged brown shorts and black flip-flops. How I watched the other kids play from afar. How we became friends after a few weeks because of our similar stories.

The feelings. I can still feel the comfort whenever I see my fellow orphans’ smiles. How their eyes twinkle so bright like stars no matter how dark the world has become for us. How we’ve stick together from the entire lash because no one would have our backs but us.

I still love the orphanage but not as I grew older.

Not when all the pain started to eat us up and we grew distant. How they made us grow distant. How society categorized us. How we were bullied for being orphans and we had no one near to talk to. How we felt abandoned all over again. How lies, greed and heartbreaks surfaced. How we crash, break, build each other up but fall apart again with no one to pick us up.

I couldn’t sleep. I watched as the other guys wake up at 5 in the morning to start our daily routine. Though I was still exhausted; limbs rejected to move, I had to. Mother Helen would be mad and reprimand me if I had kept myself tucked in bed for a couple more minutes after the lights have gone on. We cleaned up our rooms and ate breakfast that morning.

The facility served up to 200 children. Unlike before, we were now grouped by age and by gender. I was alone. All my friends were either a year or two older than me. We rarely meet and see each other now. My group has 40 male teenagers with only two caregivers. Each of us with a designated job involving working in the kitchen, gardening and helping take care of the babies in the orphanage. I was assigned in helping take care of the babies.

Here in the orphanage, kids who turn 18 get kicked out and live on their own. For the fact that they no longer have a bed here and the baby that’s getting abandoned next is going to need their beds.

“You there,” Mother Helen pointed at me as I was strolling down the halls. I looked at her, wide-eyed, wondering what she was going to say.

“Follow me,” she said as she led the way. I felt nervous. My hands started to sweat. I was becoming restless. I tried to dry them out by rubbing them against my pants continuously. Why would she call for me? Alone?

I noticed we were going to the main hall. It was where the sisters usually entertained visitors. I started to shake. I didn’t know what was going to happen.

When we arrived, a Swedish couple stood in front of me. All smiles. Hands clasped together.

“Here he is.” Mother Helen said. I was scared. Were they going to adopt me? What if they don’t want to? I broke in a cold sweat of anxiety. I haven’t really done anything worthwhile during my stay here.

“They wouldn’t want me”, I thought, fidgeting, and my knuckles closing, hardening.

I should have done something then. Something they would want me for.

But they smiled.

“He’s perfect,” they said. I grew numb. My brain started to malfunction. I couldn’t feel anything. Is this for real?

“What’s your name?” The woman asked me. She reached for my hands and held it, waiting for a respond. I couldn’t say anything. Mother Helen was silent too.

“Does he have one?” The man asked Mother Helen. She still couldn’t say anything.

The couple made eye-contact as if having telepathic communication all the while with the woman still holding both my hands.

“We’ll call him Patrick,” they both said in unison with a smile. Right then, I smiled too.

One thing people didn’t know about orphanage care is that it disconnects children from the only family that they know and can consider, and because of the many years of separation, it is very difficult for those relationships to be healed. Still, I cherished them.

We rarely got called by our names. There were so many of us. A lot of times it was just “you.” Even religious texts tell us that God knows our name. And here, is a place you are supposed to call a home and you’re not called by your name. Still, I had a home.

Years later.

I drove my way back to the orphanage.

The staff just finished the paperwork and I’ve been finalizing our latest project “Changing How We Care.” It helps correct the ways on how people are treated in the orphanage and how they’re taken care of. At least if the orphans don’t get adopted, they’d get family-like care.

I still love the orphanage. Even with how it was. It was there when I thought I had nothing.

It was a tough way back and a long way forward. Still, I was given refuge. And I’ll give them shelter, like they’ve done for me.

[henry-booers]

New Gang On The Block

Chapter 5: Lemon Boy pt2/Beginning of Family

Summary: Author gets grossly detailed on the relationship between Henry and the new character Birdy. Then goes into a concerning explanation of where Sixteen has been.

Knowing the stress henry is put through everyday Birdy was known to give him space much to his surprise. Though Birdy was known to get very affectionate and pushy with physical touch with their close friends. He was known to hold onto Tina's shirt as a grounding coping mechanism, clinging to her arm but this affectionate move was given to belch after some time getting to know each other. He didn't go near Patrick much but they had very intelligent and intellectual conversations when they were near each other. Henry could tell by Birdy’s body language and the way he spoke so carefully was the same as him with the boys in a calmer and safe place.

Birdy could tell the same with Henry’s body language being known to just hold his arm when he felt uncomfortable, kind of how Birdy held the hem of whatever shirt/jacket/or hoodie they were wearing in the moment of nervousness or being in an uncomfortable place. Sixteen noticed this, everyone noticed this, if he was in an uncomfortable situation his hands flew to the edge of the fabric and rubbed self-comforting circles into it, if not just squeezing it out of panic. Henry and Birdy were in the same boat but with different fish they caught, and everyone could tell.

Birdy was nice, bittersweet in a way. Everything about him put Henry on edge but seems to put everyone else at ease. Belch talked to him easily, Patrick and him never really sat together but would talk to each other when no one was listening to them, and Victor seemed to hang out with him more and more since he showed up. Henry and Birdy’s relationship though went a little beyond and in honesty was nothing they were used to. They didn't know how to relate to others with their problems when Birdy knew everything about Henry but Henry knew nothing about Birdy. They sat in mutual silence, talking was tiring and very troublesome and they both understood that. At the same time, they can't seem to figure out how to open their mouths when they are around each other. The closest thing they had to talk to each other was when Birdy would ask him if he wanted to listen to music with him and they would both just sit, sharing a pair of earbuds and silently but excitedly sharing music.

Both of them knew when the other was upset. If Henry had a deep scowl and a 40-mile stare, Birdy would sit down next to him and do his own thing as a means to help keep Henry grounded to the earth's surface more to the anger coursing through his body. When Birdy was upset, Henry would come and sit down next to him as well but would actually start a one-sided conversation, maybe how his day was going or a joke he heard or a conversation with Patrick that he had a couple days ago that he remembered. Anything to have birdy just focus on him and have them nod in response than actually talk.

Birdy was loud, louder than what he was used to, Patrick and Belch were their own type of loud but Birdy had a next level volume when it came to talking. Birdy knew his ADHD was a problem and that would always be a warning was how he got noticeably loud. He wouldn't even know his voice was raising and usually was shut in on himself if someone pointed it out. Henry had a talk about this with Tina, and she pointed out that he had only started forcing himself to be quiet at most times at the beginning of Senior year. Henry noticed this as well if they weren't in a place that Birdy felt comfortable he wouldn't speak, and when he did his face would go red and he would look sick and pale after he finished a sentence, like he was holding his breath and his nerves just went through the roof. Henry wouldn't point this out and left it alone, and usually would pick up off of the sentence the boy left on and talk for him, like how Tina or Jessica would order food for him at the diner.

The gangs that once apart came together soon enough and Henry's confused infatuation in needing to understand how Birdy ticked kept him distracted long enough to forget about his anger. Usually, his anger from home would follow him to school and he would lash out but the constant stimuli of these very eccentric and bright people would keep him above water. This came hand in hand with little Henry, the smart young boy that would give him private times to just talk and vent. He was a kid and he understood every word like he was trained to give therapy to troubled teens. Another light in his life that was too bright to even see the darkness he was in for most of his life. Though it would return the minute he stepped onto his fathers land and had to take another day with that old man.

Soon he will feel the true emotion of grief, and loss, the one thing he avoids to feel is the feeling of being out of control. Not being able to keep himself in control, at the same time as the others around him being themselves and being individuals he just needed some kind of control in everything. Its a normal human aspect is needing to be in control of something or everything just seems to fall apart.

“So you're telling me you've never gotten drunk before?” Victor snickered, elbowing Birdy as the boy laughed and nodded his head. Today was a slow day, they had gone to the home of Sixteens gang and took nest in one of the unused old barn haylofts. Birdy and Vic took a high plain on top of old dry hay, Patrick was sat in a dark corner listening and nursing a cold beer, Belch the same but he sat next to Tina, silently looking over a book with her, they had an AP class together and had a big test coming up. Henry, on the other hand, sat at the far wall, quiet, and keeping to himself. He hung on every word spoken though, he was interested but irritated for some unknown reason but everyone in the group learned to leave it alone and not ask questions for the sake of his own. “Wheres Jessica by the way? Is she inside?”

“No shes with Sixteen, taking a walk in the sewers, they have been doing that quite a lot lately.” Daniel shrugged into the hayloft and stood against a wall to the side. Henry perked up a bit at this but didn't comment.

“Yeah they come back smelling like rats but I hear that Sixteen has been doing it mainly for Jessica. Jessica apparently has a hideout down there and Sixteen helps maintenance the place.” Victor chimed in and Birdy looked at Henry, who met his eyes, then back to Daniel.

“They come back every time though so we don't really worry about them.” Daniel waves off the conversation and changes the topic, “It's almost That time of year guys!”

“HALLOWEEN!” Birdy squawked, his face lighting up at the mention.

“Hell yeah!” Vic hooted, and Belch gave a hearty laugh in response to the excitement. Henry cracked a smile.

This group of giggle fitted friends ended up being closer than expected. Henry thought on this a lot, and so did Sixteen being the leaders of these two groups they genuinely had a connection that they couldn't yet recognize. They all tolerated each other, helped each other, protected each other. The bowers gang never ever felt the need to make other connections with anyone else until these people came to the scene. Nothing could really happen to them with each other on their backs.

[wickednerdery]

Title: Always With You Author: WickedNerdery Fandom: X-Men/Marvel Universe Pairing/character: OMC/OFC Rating: FRM Summary: “Is it okay?” Notes: This focuses on two OCs of mine from a Marvel Universe fanfic, Ash and Sera who are mutants.  They’re a fairly long established couple, but this would be their first time having sex…It gets a “Read More” cut because it’s NSFW and long, lol!

“Manly,” Sera reassured Ash as he came into the room, still fingering the scar.  She didn’t want him getting any more, ever, but he’d fought for what he believed in, he’d protected others, and he’d willingly paid the price…she admired that.  Loved him for that.

He gave small laugh as he flopped on the bed beside her.  She reached down, over him, to feel the ribbed bit of skin that remained from his and Psylocke’s battle with Calder’s Black Knight.  It was puzzling how suddenly he’d died…One moment there, firing on them, the next dead, leaving Ash without any healing abilities to absorb.  He’d been lucky, remarkably so, and they both knew it.

Sera settled next to him, arm across as fingers traced the outline with barely-there touches.  His breath hitched.  “Is it okay?”  She paused her hand as it rose and fell in his deep breaths.

“Yes,” he smiled out.  She always asked when he reacted like that, with arousal, and he always replied the same.  “Always with you.”

Her leg swung over his, nestled between them, as nails lightly dragged over the scar, meandered across his collarbone, before she looked at him.  “More?”

Ash shifted slightly, moved his face close enough they could breathe the same air.  “Let me kiss you.”

There was still that initial shock to her senses in their kiss, it always happened, but she’d grown to enjoy it.  It was a pleasant shock, one that made her smile and move closer.  “More,” she deepened the kiss, relaxed back and pulled him with her so that he chuckled slightly.

He broke the kiss to rub his nose against hers, their traditional show of affection, intimacy.  “I love you, Sera,” he whispered with a smile.

She smiled, then grew serious. “I love you, Ashir.”  She rarely smiled when she said it so he never mistook it for a joke or something she said lightly.  Her smile returned the next moment though as she kissed him light, but deep.  “More.”

A soft violet made its own world just for them; vibrated as Ash’s breath came out in low rumbles, flowed out with Sera’s sighs, sparked when she shrugged out of her top and he gave a single thrust so she could feel his growing arousal.

Arms wrapped around him, fingers in his hair, then down his back and flanks.  His lips moved across her jaw, down her neck to her chest.  Ash felt her heartbeat against his lips, his hands, as he doted his way down her body.  He stopped at the hem of boy shorts, glanced up to see her watching with held breath.  “Yes?” He asked, she nodded and leaned back, lifted her hips to aid him.

There were times when it was much too much, when she got overwhelmed by the sensations, but there were times like this when it just felt good. Sera crackled as his facial hair brushed against the inside of her thighs, shocks in and out as his tongue gently worked her clit.

Slow…he always went slow.  For her to adjust, enjoy.  For him to relish, revel in her arousal as it flowed through him.  If this was all she ever allowed, for him to get drunk off her scent and taste, he would be content, but when she requested more his cock swelled with his pride.

Violet slowly colored the room as she arched; his fingers slipped across wet folds, almost teasing, before one, then two, entered her sex.  She gasped, sparked, then again as his mouth returned its attention to her clit. 

For anyone else, with anyone else, Sera’s powers could prove dangerous, deadly, but like her emotions Ash simply absorbed…her arousal was his, her abilities were his, and whatever protected her from her own powers was also his.

“Ash…Ash, wait,” she panted out sparks, worked up on her elbows as he immediately stopped, looked up under long-lashes.  “I wanna try.”  Sera sat up, took his hand to pull him back down on top of her, kissed him until she could taste herself as she worked boxers off.  “Go slow?”

“Always with you,” he reassured.  It held true with anything new, especially where her senses were involved.  Ash made a point of slowing things down, of making his kisses soft, running fingers through her hair, as he settled between her legs.  “I love you.”  He was never one to presume or pressure, but he’d be lying if he claimed to not have wanted to sleep with her the moment he saw her…and that that desire hadn’t grown exponentially over their years together.  “If you want to stop, tell me.”

Sera nodded; saying exactly what she felt, wanted, was never a problem and Ash never made her feel bad about being bluntly honest.  “I wanna try,” she repeated with a smile before growing serious.  “For you…us…”  She shrugged, unsure she was explaining it right.  “I love you,” she shifted, cupped his face, kissed his lip and nuzzled his nose with hers.  “This is part of it, yes?”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a smile, kissed her as his hand slipped back between her thighs. 

She moaned and sparked against his touch once more; louder, brighter, as she felt his cock slide across her folds, angle at her entrance. 

“Breathe.”

Her breath exited as he entered; she winced, cracks of purple ran between them as she felt uncomfortably stretched.  People enjoyed this?  Sera shifted, unsure what to think, what to do.  

“It gets better,” Ash assured, feeling her discomfort and confusion.  Even for him this was somewhat awkward.  Physically it was amazing - she was incredibly tight, wet, and it’d been so long since he’d been intimate like this with anyone - but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel disappointed or underwhelmed.  He went back to something they both knew, enjoyed, in kissing, touching, until her hips moved up into his on their own.  “Ready?”

At her nod he pulled back, slipped forward, creating a slow and steady pace as his hands and mouth moved to worship their way across her body.  The shocks of violet subsided into waves, Sera relaxed her way into his rhythm and found the pain fade into a vague pleasure.  Eyes closed, arms wrapped across his back lest she lose her way, she focused on the feel.  What initially felt like stretching became fullness, completeness, so that on his pulling out she frowned, sighed, before he came back and she moaned her pleasures.

He could feel her arousal flourish in the purple haze surrounding them; it fed into his as he picked up his pace.  She started to moan like when he used his mouth and he crackled with her energy all on his own.  “Sera…” he panted out, shifted weight to free a hand and lift one of her legs up around him…she copied the move with her other, shook as she felt a fraction more filled by him.

Amethyst lightening webbed from one end in the room to the other, crisscrossing through both of them, as their arousal co-mingled with the rest of them.  Sera’s nails dug in, Ash’s teeth bared down, as they both felt themselves teetering on the precipice…then over together, her orgasm simultaneously triggering his.  Every part of Sera tensed, her walls gripped Ash as he spilled years worth of pent up desire, need, for her.

They shook against each other in the come-down, shared energy vibrating out as if keeping the world at bay while they caught their breath.  Ash gave a gentle kiss where he’d bit.  “Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes, looked at him, smiled.  Sera kissed his lips, nuzzled her nose against his.  “Always with you.”

“I love you, Sera.”

“I love you too, Ash.”

They finally did it…after, probably, 3-4 years or so together, they finally had sex, woohoo!!  Certain things - like Ash giving Sera oral - they’ve done in past, but they’ve never had intercourse before so good on them, haha!  Given Ash’s powers I figured they’d probably climax together…and given Sera’s powers, they may have just destroyed that room a bit, haha!  (This likely occurs a few months after the last chronological one.)

Main Story: Part 1, Part 2,  Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33 (NSFW)  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40  Part 41  Part 42 (NSFW)  Part 43  Part 44  Part 45  Part 46  Part 47  Part 48  Part 49  Part 50  Part 51  Part 52  Part 53  Part 54  Part 55  Part 56  Part 57  Part 58  Part 59  Part 60  Part 61  Part 62  Part 63  Part 64  Part 65  Part 66  Part 67  Part 68  Part 69  Part 70  Part 71  Part 72  Part 73  Part 74  Part 75  Part 76  Part 77  Part 78  Part 79  Part 80

(Teen!Orson Prequel, Ash NSFW Prequel Piece, St Patrick’s Day Prequel, Orson Father’s Day Prequel, Dusty’s Trauma Extra, Arturo & Clark, Arturo & Owen )

Masterlist is here…I might change the name of this story because I’m an idiot and grown unsure of the title “Flawed Design” lol

(Gifs found on Google!)

Because they may care: @zoesmama2024​ @wadeyourebarelyalive​ @crazytxgradstudent​ @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers  …Wanna be tagged, just lemme know!

[petitrangement]

Hey, I'm not going to womansplain feminism to the readers of Esquire! That's not happening on my watch! You're sophisticated, 21st century men with a copy of the El Bulli cookbook, a timeless pair of investment brogues and a couple of Joni Mitchell albums — for when you want to sit in your leather armchair, and have a little, noble, necessary man-cry.

You don't need me lecturing you — because you're not hanging out the back of a bus shouting "CLUNGE!" at a bunch of terrified 15-year-old girls. You've got sisters, mothers, lovers — female friends and colleagues — and you've never once gone up to any of them shouting, "Blimey! You don't get many of those to the pahnd!" while honking on their breasts, in the manner of Sid James. You're down with the sisterhood. You've got eyes. You know what's going on out there. You've noted that while society's happy for a famous man to age, and become distinguished, and generally wander around looking like a fucking wizard, the women generally still seem to be 20 years younger, and standing there on the cover of magazines, all like, "Oh! My clothes… they fell off!" EVEN IF IT'S DAME JUDI DENCH.

You know the pay disparity; still 20 per cent less for women in this country, and not a single prosecution, even though it's literally illegal. You know babies come out of vaginas and it fucking stings, and that the vaginas are having a hard time anyway, what with all the waxing they get. (That's £20 a pop, my friend. Every single month. Just to feel normal. It's basically VAT on your minge. Imagine if you had to get your bum-hole stripped every 30 days — lest the mean girls at school corner you on the bus home and go, "I've heard you're like Catweazle down there. Someone who fingered you said it was like diddling a Gonk. Ugh.")

You've seen Amy Schumer's brilliant, edgy sketches on contraception and rape, and laughed along with them. You've called Donald Trump "a twat" for his sexist comments about a female news anchor being on her period. You've watched the whole Caitlyn Jenner trans thing unfold and gone, "You know what — this all seems fair enough. I am down with the trans thing."

So, no. I'm not going to womansplain feminism to you. It's the 21st century and you are, most assuredly, not a dick. You like women being equal to men — which is all that feminism means. Not all the penises being burned in a Penis Bonfire. Just women being equal to men. You are like my friend John, when he talks about dating alpha-women: "Feel intimidated by them? Christ, no. Dating and marrying powerful women is like big game hunting. I fuck tigers and panthers. Not… chihuahuas."

No. You get feminism. You don't need Tits McGee here to take you through it one more time. So, what I am going to do, instead, is tell you 12 things about women that women are usually too embarrassed to tell you themselves. Because I am a chronic over-sharer, and incapable of keeping secrets. I'm like that other Deep Throat. The chatty Watergate one. That's the Deep Throat I am.

1. No mumbling

Like you, we feel a bit embarrassed about saying the word "feminism". It's the same as when you say the word "environment". They both have that slight implication of, "I'm now going to launch into a speech that's basically about what a great person I am".

Unfortunately, in both cases, the entire future of the world does rest on people being able to say those words properly, and not mumbling "femernism", or "envibeoment".

You just have to shut yourself in a cupboard and say them over and over again — "FEMINISM! ENVIRONMENT! FEMINISM! ENVIRONMENT!" — until they feel as normal as saying "pina colada", or "Michael Fassbender". Which are both, when you think about it, much odder-sounding.

2. 'The Man'

So, when women talk about "The Man", we're not talking about you. You're just a man. You're not The Man. Similarly, when we talk about the patriarchy, that's not you, either. You're not the patriarchy. You're just… Patrick. When we're doing those "MEN!" chats, we're just identifying the general locus of the problem, ie, most of the power and influence being held by a small amount of men.

Because remember that patriarchy's bumming you as hard as it's bumming us. We're bulimic, objectified and under-promoted. You, meanwhile, are unable to talk about your feelings lest you get punched in the nuts by "a lad" telling you not to be "a bender". You are unlikely to get custody of your kids, and are three times more likely to commit suicide. Feminism's about sorting all this stuff out. Because it's about equality. Not burning the penises. I can't emphasise enough how much it's not about burning penises. No burnt penises here.

3. Periods

We're still pretty traumatised about our periods, even though we're now 40. Being a woman doesn't make "being a woman" any easier. All that womb-shit is nuts. It's like having an exploding, insane blood-bag of pain up in your business end — nothing really prepares you for when it all kicks off. One day, you're just a kid on your bike. The next, you're suddenly having to wedge a tiny Barbie mattress in your knickers, crying while you watch Bergerac, and eating Nurofen Plus like they're Tic Tacs.

Men, imagine if, some time around your 12th birthday, some manner of viscous liquid — let's say gravy — suddenly appeared in your pants, in the middle of a maths lesson. And then it turned up every month for the next 30 years. You'd be all like "NO!" and "WTF?!?!" and "SRSLY??? THIS????" That's what we're like, too. We're not wise, or in touch with nature, or down with it. We're just people with a whole load more laundry issues than you. Have you ever tried to scrub blood out of a Premier Inn sheet at 6am, using just travel shampoo and your toothbrush? It's one of the defining aspects of being a woman.

4. Abortion

Likewise, imagine accidentally getting pregnant at 16, then having to run past a barrage of anti-abortion protestors outside your local clinic, all holding up pictures of dead foetuses. We're not dealing with this in a special, noble lady-way. We're like, "THIS IS ALREADY A REALLY, REALLY SHIT DAY. I PRESUME YOUR CONCERN FOR THE WELFARE OF CHILDREN EXTENDS INTO A LIFE SPENT VOLUNTEERING IN CARE HOMES, FOSTERING AND DONATING YOUR WAGES TO THE NSPCC — AND DOESN'T SOLELY REST ON HARASSING AND ABUSING TEARFUL, POSSIBLY RAPED WOMEN WHO ARE TRYING TO GET A SAFE, LEGAL MEDICAL PROCEDURE SO THEY DON'T FUCK UP THE REST OF THEIR LIVES."

Here's another thing we're too embarrassed to say: we'd love it if a big bunch of pro-choice men turned up at these clinics, and helped escort the scared women in. That would be some top bro solidarity.

5. Talking

In the last year or so, we saw this study, from America, and it broke our hearts a bit, because it explains so much: in a mixed-gender group, when women talk 25 per cent of the time or less, it's seen as being "equally balanced". And if women talk 25–50 per cent of the time, they're seen as "dominating the conversation".

And we remembered all the times on social media, or in conversations, an angry man has said, "Women are WINNING now. Women are EVERYWHERE. It is MEN who are being silenced", and it all made sense.

6. Fear

We're scared. We don't want to mention it, because it's kind of a bummer, chat-wise, and we'd really like to talk about stuff that makes us happy, like look at our daughters — and we can't help but think, "Which one of us? And when?" We walk down the street at night with our keys clutched between our fingers, as a weapon. We move in packs — because it's safer. We talk to each other for hours on the phone — to share knowledge. But we don't want to go on about it to you, because that would be morbid. We just feel anxious. We're scared. Given the figures, we can't sometimes help but feel we're just… waiting for the bad thing to come. Because that would be a realistic thing to think, and we like to be prepared. Awfully, horribly, fearfully prepared.

7. Tired

We're tired. So, so tired. From the moment we grew our tits, we've been cat-called in the street; commented on by relatives ("Ooooh, she's big-boned"; "Well, you'll be a heart-breaker") as if we weren't standing there in front of them, hearing all this. We've seen our biggest female role-models and icons shamed in the press, over and over: computers hacked and nude pictures released; sex-tapes released. So we know even success, and money, will not protect us from the humiliation of simply being a woman. We know we must have our babies when we're young — the eggs are running out! — but we must also work for less money, as discussed above. So that makes us tired.

This is why, maybe, women can become suddenly furious — why online discussions about feminism suddenly ignite into rage. Tired, scared people are apt to lash out. Anger is just fear, brought to the boil.

8. Wanking

We masturbate as much as you do. One of the few times I have been personally offended was when Martin Amis commented on a column I wrote about female masturbation. "Christ," Amis said, "that's sort of lad's mag talk — sort of more male than male."

Obviously, I am noble enough to recognise that Amis is from an older generation — one whose women, by and large, did not feel comfortable discussing their sexuality in any great detail. But it does seem amazing that a clever, well-travelled man, whose job it is to examine the human condition, and who had a pretty steamy relationship with Germaine Greer at one point, has never realised that women can be just as driven by their desire as men.

I'm gonna be honest with you — for the first five years of my adult life, most of my decisions were made by the contents of my pants. My vagina was — by way of Audrey II in Little Shop Of Horrors — constantly shouting "Feed me!", and breaking into musical numbers when I was trying to listen to my brain instead. If I had not discovered masturbation, I would have spent the majority of my time sitting on shed roofs, like a cat on heat, yowling at the moon. If a young woman isn't to go mad, then masturbation is a needful hobby, as vital as going on long country walks, to get a bit of air in your lungs, and pursuing the revolution. And what a hobby it is! It doesn't cost anything, it doesn't make you fat, you can knock it off in five minutes flat if you think about Han Solo, or some monkeys "doing it" on an Attenborough documentary, and it means you can face the world with a kind of stoned, post-coital cheerfulness that would otherwise require Valium, or constant spa-breaks.

There's a reason why God designed our bodies so that, when we lie down in bed, our hands naturally come to rest on our genitals. It's the Lord's way of saying, "Go on, have a fiddle. Find out how you work. And then, when you go out into the world, you won't be waiting for some bloke to come along and have sex on you. You'll be in the sex, too. It'll be like this… joint endeavour? A thing you can do together? That was kind of how I planned it all along, TBH. So, my Eleventh Commandment is 'Thou Shalt Buff Your Fnuh.' That's official. Signed, God."

9. Clothes

You know when we stand in front of a full wardrobe and say, "I don't have anything to wear!"? Obviously we have things to wear. You can see all the shit from where you are standing, fully dressed, ready to leave the house. What we mean is, "I don't have anything to wear for who I need to be today." What women wear is incredibly important and not just because we live in a society with a $1.5 trillion fashion-industry, and spend most of our spare time looking at cut-price Marc Jacobs handbags on theoutnet.com.

As we are the half of the world that still doesn't get to say as much as men (see stats earlier), how we look works by way of our opening paragraph in any social setting. Think of all the different kinds of looks women can have, depending on their clothes, hair and make-up: "Slutty". "Ball-busting". "Mumsy". "Manic Pixie Dream Girl". "Gym-bunny". "Mutton". "Nerdy". "Unfuckable".

Now think of all the ways men can dress. It's basically "some trousers". Ninety per cent of what men wear is "some trousers". You're just getting up in the morning, putting on your trousers and getting on with stuff.

And we fret about all this — appearance, clothes — because it matters. If we're still getting talked-over at meetings, is it because we're not dressing powerfully enough? If we're getting sexually harassed, is it because we're wearing the wrong skirt? In 2008, a rape case was overturned because the judge decided the alleged victim must have consented to sex, because her jeans were "too tight" for the accused to remove on his own. This is what we're thinking about, when we stand in front of the wardrobe. Will this outfit define the rest of today? Will it, if I am very unlucky, affect my life? Is this going to be the subject of a court-case? Could I run for my life in these shoes? Do I have anything for who I need to be today?

10. Male feminists

We're embarrassed when other women say, "Men can't be feminists!" We don't want to get into an argument, but we just can't see the logic in it. Feminism can only work if men are feminists, too — because the only indice by which feminism will succeed is based on how many people believe in it, support it, and want it to happen. By definition, it has to be a populist movement. There's no point in only 27 per cent of people believing in equality because the maths, very obviously, show that you won't be equal if 73 per cent of people think you're not. You can't go and… hide the feminism in a special secret place, and only let certain people have access to it. Besides, as discussed above, men need feminism almost as badly as women do. So, lady-balls to "men can't be feminists". We disbelieve that. In our vaginas.

11. Carbs

Our ultimate aim, when it comes to men, is to find an amusing mate we can have sex with, then sit on the sofa with, watching re-runs of Seinfeld and eating a baked potato. Discount all that Christian Grey/abs of steel/"bad boy" shit. Our priorities are: 1) Kindness; 2) Jokes; 3) High tolerance of carbs.

12. Trainers

It actually was us that threw those horrible old trainers of yours away. That story about how a time-portal opened up, and they were stolen away by your own teenaged self? That was a lie.

Caitlin Moran's fee for this piece has been donated to Refuge, refuge.org.uk

This article was first published in 2016.

Moranifesto by Caitlin Moran is out now, published by Ebury Press, £20

[blackwine]

VERY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY.

RULES. repost —— don’t reblog. tag ten people. tag your mom TAGGING. @vicemirrored @lucernimaevaris @thewildcrd @shxdowbound @haelan @onthesirenscall

BASICS.

FULL NAME: fenris, meaning little wolf. his birth name is leto, meaning sun god/summer. NICKNAME/S: elf, broody elf, fen AGE: 20-30s (beginning of act 1) / 30s-40s (trespasser). BIRTHDAY:  unknown. ETHNIC GROUP: black, indian.  NATIONALITY: originally from seheron. technically property of a tevinter magister, so may be legally classed as a tevinter. LANGUAGE/S: trade, tevene, some qunlat. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: verse dependent. unless otherwise discussed or the verse takes place pre-act 3, he has always had a previous sexual relationship with isabela.  CLASS: slave/working/none. he’s squatting, and he’s technically a fugitive. he has no legal credibility as a person; he has no saved funds or property beyond what he has on him. sometimes hawke lends (gives and never gets back) him money. gives him a couple sovereigns. ‘get yourself something nice.’  HOMETOWN / AREA: tevinter, kirkwall. otherwise verse-dependent. native of seheron. CURRENT HOME: kirkwall. PROFESSION: none, beyond occasional mercenary, and/or slave-hunter, rebel and upstart. protects what he loves, fights for what he believes in. that’s more than enough. 

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: naturally, black. the hair on his head has been bleached white by the lyrium in his scalp. hair elsewhere on his body, including his eyebrows, remains black. EYES: deep green/brown. he has several crow’s feet around his eyes and dark shadows above and beneath them from long-term stress.  NOSE: a strong, straight elven bridge. defined, average-to-large nostrils, with a pronounced septum. FACE: strong cheekbones, strong jaw, very defined. fairly hollow cheeks. premature wrinkles around the eyes, brows and nostrils.  LIPS: thick, with a defined cupid’s bow.  COMPLEXION: medium brown, slightly gray-ish - darkens with exposure to the sun. very visible pores and acne scarring. his palms and the soles of his feet are lighter. he has freckles and moles all over him. BLEMISHES: acne scars, oddly pigmented patches, dry and cracked skin around the markings, stress wrinkles, dark circles under his eyes, a lot of clogged pores. i could go on. SCARS: his whole body is pretty much covered in minor ones, but he has severe, deep, long scars all over his back from years under the lash of the whip. his wrists and ankles are also somewhat marred from wear of chains. TATTOOS: involuntarily, he has a pattern all over his body engraved in lyrium. the application was more akin to scarification than tattooing.  HEIGHT: 5'4 WEIGHT: dunno BUILD: short, and very muscular in the lean sense. appears thinner than he actually is. can appear tall when not next to anyone else. ALLERGIES: none. hates fish.  USUAL HAIRSTYLE: just above his shoulders, a little longer in the back, with an overgrown fringe hanging over his eyes. he cuts it with a knife.  USUAL EXPRESSION: stoic, flat, or unamused. otherwise known as resting bitch face. USUAL CLOTHING: his old slave armour. while it is a reminder of his past, it was also tailor-made to fit his fighting style, and body type - armour made for elven warriors is rare. tight-fitting long black tunic and leggings, belt with a few pockets, black pauldrons, armoured gloves and a chestplate.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: slavery, vulnerability, being violated, degraded or humiliated ASPIRATION/S: survive.  protect what matters to him.  POSITIVE TRAITS: trustworthy, fiercely loyal, strong, humble/modest, clever, cultured, protective but not overly so. knows boundaries. NEGATIVE TRAITS: bigoted (understandably, but still), uncooperative, unfriendly, paranoid, stubborn, demanding, easily-angered or offended, self-centred, short fuse, anti-social, un-empathetic, self-destructive, (potentially) self-sacrificial MBTI: dunno ZODIAC: dunno TEMPERAMENT: i can’t be bothered with these tests dude SOUL TYPE/S: wuhhhhhg ANIMAL: panther VICE/S: excessive drinking, chewing or smoking elfroot, pacing/fidgeting, looking over his shoulder, never sitting still.  FAITH: andrastian, though critical of the chantry. GHOSTS? no. AFTERLIFE? doesn’t know, doesn’t think about it. REINCARNATION? no. ALIENS? no. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: he doesn’t like or support any major political party.  ECONOMIC PREFERENCE: he just keeps what he needs. if he doesn’t have enough to live, he’ll steal. or borrow, depending on how generous varric or hawke’s feeling. SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION: n/a. EDUCATION LEVEL:  uneducated in the academic sense, and illiterate; however, he is highly worldly as a result of his bodyguard position. he can speak three languages, and is familiar with a great deal of cultural practice (predominantly the far northern countries, tevinter, seheron and par vollen). he also is extremely ‘street smart’, or has a lot of survival skills, due to spending three years on the run and several months with a group of rebel fighters. he’s also been informally trained in other things, as a result of his position and abilities - concealing his emotions, stealth, how to fight with various weapons or without, how to keep his master alive, how to please men sexually, how to play the lute. 

FAMILY.

FATHER: unknown, but likely a slave. presumed dead. fenris has no memories of him. MOTHER: deceased; circumstances of her death unknown. presumably illness or childbirth. fenris has no memories of her. SIBLING/S: half-sister, varania. varania grew bitter towards him after he used his boon from winning the tournament to free her and their mother, and she found freedom as an elf in tevinter was just as uncomfortable as slavery. she sells him out to danarius, after being promised a position as a magister; whether or not danarius was being genuine with her is unknown. verse dependent, fenris either kills her or tells her to leave; it is assumed he doesn’t see her again. EXTENDED FAMILY: none that he’s aware of. NAME MEANING/S: little wolf; from fen (elven and thus tevinter stem for ‘wolf’) and -ris (assumedly a diminutive for ‘little’ or ‘small’).  HISTORICAL CONNECTION: none.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: A Slave’s Life. MOVIE: dunno, probably something funny but not crass, gross and obtuse.  5 SONGS: GONE / ioanna gika, WOLF SONG / patrick wolf, ON THE NATURE OF DAYLIGHT / dinah washington, RUN BOY RUN / woodkid, BLESSA / toro y moi. DEITY:  none. he probably liked the concept of fen’harel, though. MONTH: april. SEASON: spring, summer. PLACE: his mansion. the docks. WEATHER: warm or hot. patches of sunlight he can sit in. he also likes summer rain. SOUND: quiet. ambient noise. the sound of rain outside. SCENT/S: scented wood. greenery. TASTE/S: fruit. fresh, cold things. tea. wine. FEEL/S: a sword in his hand, a heart in his fist. a foul person dead before him, their blood on his arm. sunlight on his face. pleasant tiredness from exertion, but not to the point of discomfort. orgasm. wine in his stomach.  ANIMAL/S: wolves. birds. mabari.  NUMBER: 2 COLOR: dark, muted colours.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: dancing and playing the lute (though he’ll never do those in front of someone else). holding his pee for a really long time. drinking contests. laughing easily. respecting boundaries. fighting. killing. teaching. isolating himself. winning money from anders. sex. BAD AT: comforting other people, caring about other people. being civil towards people he disagrees with. making friends, or connections with people. taking care of himself.  TURN-ONS: physical strength, mutual respect, confidence, passion and emotion, enthuiastic mutual consent, tolerance, charisma. directness; being straightforward about what they want without pressuring or demanding it of him. TURN-OFFS: weakness (emotional or physical), immaturity, unemotional people, people who pressure or force themselves on him without his consent. HOBBIES: drinking, sparring, sulking, dancing.  TROPES: i said dunno AESTHETIC TAGS: i am skin no ghost will live in.

FC INFO.

MAIN FC/S: malachi kirby. ALT FC/S: armando cabral. OLDER FC/S: adetomiwa edun, chiwetel ejiofor. YOUNGER FC/S: none. VOICE CLAIM/S: canon voice.

[yunyingaixu]

the color of beauty

Girls living in slums spend more money on their hair than anyone else, \"said Winston Sculley, who put a lot of red rollers on the client\'s African hair --

American hair salon in N ElmontY.

\"Somehow, they got the money for the color on top of the color, and the money for the weaving on top of the weaving.

\"A foreign company admits that there is gold in this sentence.

Over the past 12 months, L\'Oreal of France. A.

Dive into the city market in the United States and buy soft gloss Products and Carson Products separately. estimated $0. 37 billion, pick up 20% pieces from broken, few

The market known as \"National hair care.

Price: cheap 1. 4 times sales.

Terry Gardner, president of the new soft gloss/Carson division, explained why her family ended up selling to the French: \"L\'Oreal has a Ninja mentality --

Very focused, very strategic, no waste of energy.

\"The cleaver move of the French.

Family for decadesrun African-

American businesses have designed products like \"tightness\", an almost toxic syrup that makes hair straight, in the process,

Neglected but vibrant $1. 2 billion U. S.

\"National hair care\" market. African-

Americans now account for 30% of the total population of the United States. S.

Although hair care expenditure accounts for only 13% of the population.

The French bet: these American hair styles will go to the world like rap and loose pants.

L\'oréal is run by 54 people, one reason is the feeling of the beauty of racial diversityyear-

Lindsay Owen, Old Welsh

The biggest and fastest is Jones.

A growing cosmetics company in the world.

Think about it: at 1980, when defending rival Clairol dominates the U. S. S.

The market share of 61% is relatively small --

A well-known French company has decided to compete with the United States. S.

Giant on his lawn.

Twenty years later, L\'Oreal American company had a 49% share of $1. 3 billion U. S.

Color of hair, display. C.

With the steady decline of Clairol to 40%, Nielsen.

With the squeeze in profits, the parents of kailerrol, Bristol-

Miles shiguibao, just $2.

Hair care products with sales revenue of 4 billion.

This is not the only company in L\'Oreal that has been hit hard.

Lulu was bleeding heavily on the rope.

Shiseido sales in Japan declined last year.

Estee Lauder is still the third largest brand in L\'Oreal. Shares at mass-

Market leaders at Unilever and Procter & Gamble have gone bankrupt.

\"We just love the industry more than our competitors-\" Owen said --\"

Well known O. Jones. J.

And took over Clairol in person 20 years ago.

\"I really don\'t think they understand what the problem is.

His comments are arrogant but make sense.

Over the past 15 years, L\'Oreal\'s sales have grown at a rate of 12% per year, with an estimated $11 billion in sales of $2000;

Net profit, compounded at a rate of 15%, will exceed $0. 8 billion.

L\'Oreal has a pair. digit top-

Production line growth for a hot tech company with bottom

Comfortable line for a wellrun bank. Says Jean-

Claude Lareche, marketing professor at Insead, Europe\'s top business school: \"What sets L\'Oreal apart is its consistency over time.

L\'Oreal is not completely undiscovered.

Its shares have risen from the split.

Over the past decade, the company has adjusted $8 to $76 to align its main shareholder, Liliane Bettencourt.

See the pyramid behind the perfume).

The stock has a P/E ratio of 2000 times that IBES predicted, almost three times that of the entire cosmetics industry, and the company is entering the \"most appreciated\" list.

L\'Oreal is the fourth of Insead\'s World\'s Best Companies to stand out from the top 50 in the Financial Times and on Young & rub Nikon\'s list of future popular European brands.

L\'Oreal\'s acquisition of Maybelline, Volkswagen-

The market brand of cosmetics reveals the best state of the French company in its international market.

Pay Wasserstein Perella & Co at 1996 L\'Oreal.

Cash and assumed debt amounted to $0. 66 billion, a modest sum.

It sells nine times as many tablets as Memphis, Tennessee.

There is also a huge factory in Little Rock, the Ark.

A few months later, L\'Oreal\'s creative team shocked the United States. S.

By restarting the old of Maybelline-

Cool pink and red nail polish in Miami, yellow and green nail polish.

Followed by a range of innovative products with competitive prices: Wondercurl, a mascara and brush that will curl and thicken eyelashes considerably when applied;

Fast completion, fast completion

American women are short of time with dry nail polish;

Moisturizing whip, moisturizing lipstick.

All patents and exclusive Maybelline.

Sales jumped to $1 from $0. 35 billion in 1996.

This year 1 billion

Maybelline is now the number one cosmetics in the United States, with a market share of 19% and is probably the most popular.

Sell brands worldwide.

See how the French Open up the Japanese market with this typical American brand.

L\'Oreal regained control of Japan\'s vulnerable groups in July 1999run Maybelline.

The Frenchman quickly adjusted the Wondercurl mascara formula to fit the short lashes in Asia.

\"We are lucky,\" said Patrick Rabin, head of consumer goods . \".

\"The correct etiquette in Japan is that Japanese girls should bow to men and never lift their eyes.

But the new generation wants to look straight at you and when you do, you will reveal your eyes and eyelashes.

But because Japanese lashes are short and straight, the only way you can see them is to curl.

\"Wondercurl went public in November 1999, with a market share of 18% in three months, making it Japan\'s number one mascara.

News shows Japanese girls queuing up for mascara screaming.

L\'Oreal later launched a series of blush and nail polish, including Asia --

No specific mascara running during the rainy season.

A year after L\'Or éal took over Maybelline in Japan, sales rose from 5 million to 12 million.

For all companies trying to sell brands abroad, here\'s a lesson.

\"The exit is over,\" said Jill Vail, L\'Oreal luxury director . \".

\"You have to be local and strong like the best locals, but with the support of an international image and strategy.

\"So, while Maybelline\'s cosmetics are in the lab with recipe adjustments based on local skin types and weather around the world, its main face to the world remains African --

American model Tomiko

Tomiko conveyed a fashionable New York City fashionyear-

Young people from Shanghai to Berlin want to be one of them.

\"The attitude of Americans has something modern,\" Rabain said . \".

\"It\'s urban, relaxed and stylish.

The world is racially diverse and it is recognized that all races are represented in the United States. S.

Everyone has a chance, and for young people in other parts of the world, this is the real sign of modern times.

\"So L\'Oreal responded quickly

A changing world: build more than a dozen big Mac based on local cultural beauty but can attract different segments of the global market.

From the United States: The understated elegance of Kiehl\'s, the trendy New York pharmacy, the trendy re-launch of Helena Rubinstein, Ralph Lauren\'s perfume, to the masses --

Beautiful lotus market and lovely dark.

From Europe: the refined France of Lancome, the noble Italy of Armani perfume, the mass influence of L\'Oreal and the carnier laboratory.

Coming: Asian acquisitions (

Rumors of Shu umela, Japan

This will bring Eastern elegance to L\'Oreal\'s arsenal. It works.

The best-selling brand in Asia may be the trendy Maybelline, but in Eastern Europe, it was marinated by the Party as the 19 th.

L\'Oreal\'s French brand is still doing its best in beauty.

At the same time, African immigrants in Europe will be tempted by the Dark and Lovely United States.

No other cosmetics company in the world can choose their own weapons in this way.

The French company is good at bringing new innovations to the market. A decade ago O. J.

His team sold or merged the different businesses of L\'Oreal, focusing on more than a dozen brands such as hair care, skin care, makeup and perfume.

Distinguish L\'Oreal from competitorsJ.

Consciously rejected Charles Lipson\'s famous \"dream in the bottle\" philosophy and added 1,000 scientists to his R & D staff, currently 2,300.

L\'Oreal\'s R & D budget is 3.

1% of sales may be double that of other cosmetics companies (

See \"scientific hair gel \").

Larreche of Insead said that L\'Oreal is different because of the way the lab works --in-

Gloves for marketing.

For example, L\'Oreal introduced fruit shampoo in 1996, when marketers decided they wanted a \"natural juice\" shampoo for young European Greens.

Scientists in the laboratory turned their eyes on request, but found an excuse to put sugar in shampoo at the molecular level (

The growth of hair has a weak connection with fructose).

Presto: a marketing story based on science.

L\'Oreal has a 28% share of the European shampoo market, while P & G and Unilever have fallen to 19% and 12% respectively.

L\'Oreal\'s coming to support such product innovation and 12th

The largest media budget in the world.

External charges for the past decade \"-

L\'Oreal hides the slogan of its advertising and promotional expenses --

Sales jumped from 37% to 47%.

According to the Advertising Age, L\'Oreal\'s global advertising spending has risen to $1.

25 billion in 1998, almost comparable to cocaCola.

L\'Oreal has found a marketing model and is still looking for a new model --

That\'s why it\'s a leader in the cosmetics industry for interactive websites.

But that\'s why L\'Or éal recently paid about $0. 15 billion (3.

Kiehl\'s sales are five times.

The curious company, which has a history of 149, relies solely on word, and revenues have climbed to $40 million. of-mouth.

L\'Oreal is actually a pyramid of small profit centers, and there are only ten profit centers --

Often very youngemployees.

Audit and budget meetings are ongoing, not focusing on milk spilled in the past, but looking for the main indicators for the coming yearend.

Which neglected products have signs of life, but lack of capital?

Which do not meet expectations and need to be trimmed?

Such a structure makes the development of this big company very fast.

A few months ago, a German competitor shocked L\'Oreal by announcing that it would launch a trendy new hair gel in France. On Sept.

8 Rabain meets with colleagues in a crowded meeting room and agrees to roll out spoiler Hairspray when they are young --

Brand of Fructis.

If the formula is given now, the factory manager immediately agreed to provide 500,000 units to France within one month, but the lab refused. The hair-

The spray formula requires a month\'s safety test first.

Decision: plants will glue while testing the formula in the laboratory.

If the test fails, they will destroy the lot.

If they pass, they will launch.

L\'Oreal executives call it \"going to the casino \". \" On Nov.

There are 3 Portuguese gum in the French store.

A week before the German game.

\"It\'s too late if you wait until consumer research tells you everything,\" O said . \". J.

\"The battle has taken place and someone has occupied [the prize]

It disappeared.

\"L\'Oreal can also focus on costs for all marketing and research.

In 1996, the company found that the recently acquired Maybelline used 20 cents to make mascara in its huge small stone factory;

L\'Oreal needs 46 cents to produce the same product at a European factory.

L\'Oreal quickly reorganized its European production using Arkansas knowledgehow.

L\'Oreal\'s purchasing costs have fallen by 1/3 over the past decade to 19% of sales, compared with 27% and 25% for competitors and Weena in Europe\'s fitobeerdorf.

There is no predictable Paris mansion at L\'Oreal headquarters;

This is a modern hospital.

Like an office in the suburbs of Clichy.

L\'Oreal was born in 1907, when Eugène schüeller, an outstanding French chemist, created one of the first stable synthetic hair dyes.

1930 of Schuler also invented the sun.

Tan oil and the first batch-

Market shampoo without flaky soap.

But Shule has a side too.

According to historian Michael Barr

Schuler supported a fascist organization eventually known as La Cagoule. The Cowl)

Named after the red hood worn by members to hide their identity, its leaders often meet at L\'Oreal Royal Street headquarters in their 1930 s.

In 1937, dozens of political assassinations were carried out in La Cagoule.

When the Germans entered Paris, the Shule\'s murderous La Cagoule faction evolved into a \"social progressive faction\" and began to work with Gestapo and party guards.

On a notorious night in October 1, 1941, members of the group blew up seven Paris synagogues.

Schuler funded the resistance at the end of the war and managed to barely pass L\'Oreal without a criminal record until his death in 1957.

His daughter, Lillian betancu, became the company\'s main shareholder, and the new chief executive, Francois Dahl, launched a product like Ellnet hair spray that removed L\'Oreal from tampon

However, at the end of his career, Dahl experienced a painful fall --

Go out with his film director, Jean fledeman.

The former hero of the French resistance movement, then the citizens of Israel, revealed Schule\'s past in the early 1990 s, and dug up an amazing revelation after another: former Jack-

War criminals who served five years in ten years

He held a leadership position in La Cagoule and was sentenced to one year in prison and MSR is the chairman of L\'Oreal American companyS.

Until his death in 1991.

Fred deman also discovered the fact that Senator Andrey Betancourt, the husband of Lillian, wrote several profanity and-

Flash articles from Nazi propaganda agencies during the war.

Not all revelations have to do with the past.

L\'Oreal asked the Arab boycott to avoid being blacklisted and caught for its Helena Rubinstein.

Anti-charges

L\'Oreal was shocked by Jewish, fascist cleansing and catering to Arab racism.

New York Mayor Koch has called for a boycott of L\'Oreal; the U. S.

The Ministry of Commerce and the Ministry of Justice began investigations.

During this period, Owen

Jones, a Welsh from outside Liverpool, is studying.

Born into a middle classclass Latin-

The mother was a teacher and the father was an engineer. before going to Insead, France, he received a scholarship education in Oxford.

It is there that this young man who likes racing cars and language gifts first heard of L\'Oreal, where you can see women getting paid for taking off their clothes in the sunbathing advertisement.

After he became famous in L\'Oreal, Italy and the United States. S.

, Bettencourts-

The person who controls L\'Oreal through the holding companyappointed O. J.

He served as chief executive in 1988.

The storm is coming.

A young foreigner who runs a French idol?

\"Choosing a president is not bound by convention,\" the media --

Shy lililian betancu in e-mail.

What matters is vision, talent and courage. Mr. Owen-

Jones has these qualities.

In the next seven yearsJ.

Cleaned up Fredman-

Add to L\'Oreal\'s past.

He solved the problem of violating American law. S.

Significant investment has been made in Israel.

At 1994 Senator betdanggu, 75, resigned from the L\'Oreal board of directors and gave his seat to his Jewish son --in-law, Jean-

Pierre Meyers lost his parents in Auschwitz.

In 1997, the United States Orthodox Jewish Union awarded L\'Oreal the International Leadership Award.

Note: O. J.

Double production

In this whirlpool, L\'Oreal achieved the growth of the number of digits.

A \"passionate person\", \"arrogant person\", a \"product madman\" with \"laser eyes\" is how employees and outsiders describe him.

He got the cold euro.

The grace of old James Bond, but his conversation is full of salty Americanism such as \"Go get your ball \".

\"The French tend to say a lot,\" said Jill Vail, the luxury goods manager . \". \"What O. J.

These are facts.

Don\'t tell me a long story.

Nice to hear but no time.

Tell me the facts and tell me what to do to correct the problem.

\"Alexis Reille, a former employee who now runs his own perfume business, recalls how he ran the perfume business. J.

I used to pick a perfume without mercy.

He showed the gift.

\"The case is reducing the overall profitability of the perfume,\" Reille said . \".

\"We ignored it.

I had to reconsider the whole thing.

\"A striking glimpse of this complex business leader is a video recorded at a sales conference in 1997, but young employees are still endlessly passing on internally.

Morning and O. J.

I found myself choking on the podium.

\"L\'Oreal is a love story for me,\" he said . \"

\"For me, L\'Oreal is an important part of my life\'s direction.

\"This is a difficult company . \"J.

Sorry to say today, \"but also very sentimental.

\"The problem now is O. J.

How to maintain the development momentum of L\'Oreal. Years ago O. J.

See a picture of John F.

When Kennedy was young, he directed a small torpedo ship during World War II.

\"He\'s not 3,022 on the aircraft carrier,\" said O. J.

\"He was the captain of a small boat when he was very young.

You have to ask, is that part of why he became president of the United States? S.

What I want to do is invent a lot of torpedo ships so that I have a few future presidents.

\"One of L\'Oreal\'s emerging leaders is Katen Patel, 34. year-

The old creative journey behind Maybelline.

Patel, an Indian, grew up in Kenya with an M. B. A. from Cornell.

\"You don\'t have to be a snob in Paris to taste or understand what is beautiful,\" O said . \". J.

No, you must have an international vision and a genius in marketing.

[tabloidtoc]

In Touch, September 21

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Pregnant Kate Middleton and Meghan Markle having two baby girls

Page 1: Contents 

Page 2: Who Wore It Better? Diane Kruger vs. Cindy Bruna, Hailey Baldwin vs. Ellie Goulding, Beth Stern vs. Mandy Moore 

Page 4: Secrets of Mariah Carey’s memoir -- in a new interview Mariah dishes on the bombshells of her upcoming tell-all -- Derek Jeter, Eminem, Ellen DeGeneres, Nick Cannon 

Page 6: Crib of the Week -- Justin Bieber and Hailey Bieber’s love nest, New Mom of the Week -- Katy Perry, Number of the Week -- 7 minutes Kate Winslet can hold her breath underwater after training for the Avatar sequels, Winner of the Week -- Tenet which despite pandemic concerns earned $53 million in 41 countries during its first weekend in theaters, Loser of the Week -- Bella Thorne apologizes after her lucrative debut on the OnlyFans platform is blamed for hurting full-time sex workers’ incomes 

Page 8: Up Close -- Channing Tatum dresses up to read his children’s book The One and Only Sparkella 

Page 11: Bradley Cooper channels the 1970s style of Jon Peters while shooting a new movie

Page 12: Cuddling Couples -- Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban, Justin Bieber and wife Hailey Baldwin share a kiss, Gabrielle Union and Dwyane Wade ahead of their sixth anniversary 

Page 14: Rebel Wilson shows off her 40-pound weight loss, Kerry Washington in the pool, Kim Kardashian at the beach in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico 

Page 16: Dog Days of Summer -- Neil Patrick Harris laying out in the sun with his dog Spike in East Hampton in New York, Amanda Seyfried and her pup Finn, Alicia Silverstone and her dogs on a road trip, PLEASE ADOPT, DON’T SHOP! 

Page 19: Victoria Beckham and daughter Harper, Jason Derulo helps honor Massachusetts nurse Florence Njoroge by presenting her and her family with a VMI Chrysler Pacifica wheelchair-accessible vehicle 

Page 20: Cover Story -- Kate Middleton and Meghan Markle double baby joy -- Kate and Meghan learn they’re both expecting little girls -- Kate has always wanted four children just like Queen Elizabeth and Kate and her sister Pippa are so close and Kate would love for Charlotte to have that bond with a sister too -- another child would complete Meghan and Prince Harry’s family as last summer when asked how many children they hoped to have Harry said he and Meghan wanted two maximum 

Page 24: Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Garner heat up -- Jen and Bradley’s new romance gets serious 

Page 26: Miley Cyrus is off the rails again -- spiraling after her split shades of the old Miley emerge 

Page 28: Aubrey O’Day fires back at fat-shamers -- after being photographed looking much heavier than she appears on Instagram Aubrey lashes out 

Page 30: Just days after Angelina Jolie learned ex Brad Pitt took his new girlfriend Nicole Poturalski to their Chateau Miraval winery in France she lashed out and banned the kids from meeting Nicole -- Nicole is closer to Shiloh’s age than Brad and Angie thinks it’s inappropriate -- Angie is also jealous of Nicole’s youth and beauty and it burns her to see Brad happy 

Page 31: Demi Lovato got bent out of shape recently when her new fiance Max Ehrich left town to film and Demi insisted on tagging along but when Max is working he wants to be alone so he can stay focused and he tried to explain that but Demi wants to be with him 24/7, Sienna Miller who’s dated a bunch of Hollywood heartthrobs over the years has broken off her engagement to her younger fiance Lucas Zwirner the son of an art gallery owner, Star Sightings -- Allie Long, Angela Kinsey, Natalie Eva Marie, Jasmine Sanders, Charlize Theron 

Page 34: The Big Interview -- The Real Housewives of Potomac

Page 38: Beauty -- stars love beauty bargains 

Page 40: Entertainment 

Page 42: Animal Overload -- my cat looks like Emma Stone 

Page 45: Double Take -- Kate Middleton lends a helping hand on a visit to a baby supply charity in England 

Page 46: Horoscope -- Virgo Tom Hardy turned 43 on September 15 

Page 48: Last Laughs