#red hair michael icons

[aliidarling]

hey alii it’s your fav riooo!! :3 anyways no more silliness.. can you write where your getting stalked by Michael and he breaks in and fucks the brains out of u, oh and has a size kink/bondage? thank you i love u and your fics!!! 🩷

enjoy the silence

MICHEAL MYERS x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable

summary: myers decides to break in while you’re babysitting your friends younger brother

warnings: smut, p in v, size kink, bondage, knife play, sadism/masochism, blood

reminder reader doesn’t know the myers iconic mask because this takes place the night of his return in the og movie :)

nsfww content below !!

this years halloween wasn’t like last years, the year before and all the halloweens you’ve lived through. normally it was cheery, bright, with lots of candy and spooky costumes jumpscaring you at every corner. you’d always look forward for october 31st, the scariest day of the year.

your favorite day of the year. you were a horror fanatic, always binge watching horror movies and buying merchandise. friday the 13th was one of your favorite franchises, the slasher and gruesome scenes catching your eye from a young age. ever since then you’d always get excited at the mere mention of horror aspects.

you remembered years ago when the myers incident happened— when the perfect family down the block broke apart and crumbled into mere names you’d see on the newspaper. you were friends with the daughter, having a few classes with the upperclassmen which you two shared.

she was so sweet. always giving you pencils, helping you braid your hair, sometimes walking you home. she was too young to leave the earth. the reminders of that terrifying night rung in your head every halloween, slowly ruining the once colorful holiday for you.

now even fifteen years later, flashes of red and blue tainted the back of your mind as you sat on the couch of your best friends house. you had been ‘hired’ by your best friend to babysit his little brother. you didn’t mind— her brother, kilo, was a sweet boy. he was barely passing second grade, but you weren’t one to judge.

“you finish your homework, bud?” you ask the little boy who sat across from you. he looks up from his papers, crayons at his side with his papers covered in scribbles and his bad handwriting.

“almost!” he smiles, returning back to his homework and doodling. you hum and glance back at the movie playing in front of the two of you, the street lights illuminating the living room subtly through the blinds. you could hear the kids from the streets chatting, the giggling and the sounds of halloween night.

you hear a thud from the kitchen, making you frown. you pat the kids back and tell him to stay out, standing up and walking to the hallway. you enter the kitchen and look around, your eyes catching glimpse of a fallen plate on the ground. you shudder. your friend and her parents weren’t gonna be too happy with you about that.

“hey, kilo?” you call out, grabbing the broom and sweeping it up into a bag.

“yeah?” he calls back.

“i’ll let you keep your ipad in bed if you take the blame for me about this.” you hold up the bag of shredded glass sheepishly, trying to win over the little boy with the bats of your lashes. he hums in thought, tapping his chin before nodding eagerly.

you grin and give kilo a hair ruffle before ushering him up the stairs. he takes two stairs at a time before skipping into his room, the dark blue walls painted and his bed having star wars bedding. it was cute, you could tell his parents loved him.

“night night, kiddo. you need anything i’ll be downstairs, alright? i’m gonna be sleeping in your sisters room tonight.” you tell him gently, keeping up on your promise and handing him his ipad. he giggles and nods, quickly opening it up and ignoring every other word that drops from your mouth. you sigh and walk off, leaving the door open with a small crack. damn ipad kids.

the next hour is calm. you’re downstairs, handing out candy while catching up with your shows in her television. you’re happy she has cable. you’re quite comfortable in her house, you’ve been over so many times a part of you considers it your second home.

the sound of another thud grabs your attention. at first you think maybe kilo was being kilo and caused some ruckus, but you quickly realize it came from downstairs. you get up from your couch and walk towards the kitchen once again, blinking dumbly at the sight of the pantry door wide open. you swore you closed it earlier.

“this is creepy.” you grumble to yourself, stepping forward to slowly close it. once the click echoes, you stand there for another moment, a part of you expecting a loud jumpscare. the silence is anticlimactic and you sigh tiredly, dragging yourself back to the couch.

slumping back against the cushion, you wrap yourself in the throw blanket they have and hum, focusing your eyes on the television in front of you again. the streets have quieted down, leaving only a few determined trick or treaters that you’ve started to ignore when they ring. you’re too lazy to get up.

another few long minutes pass before you hear footsteps down the hall. you stiffen immediately and sit up, peeking over the top of the couch down the hall. no way kilo made those footsteps— they were too heavy.

fuck. did someone break in? it’s halloween night, you wouldn’t be surprised. lots of people always engaged in reckless behavior this night of the year.

“hello?” you call out, sitting up sheepishly and hugging the blanket around you. you peek down the dark, luring hall and shiver. you gulp down your nerves and let out another call. “kilo? i thought i told you to stay in your room, kid.”

silence answers you.

it’s creepy. too creepy. you don’t like this anymore. you want to go upstairs and check on kilo, make sure he’s okay and maybe sleep next to him in his bed. you were creeped out and wanted to make sure he was safe mostly.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you turn back forward, preparing to stand up to make your debut upstairs. you’re met with the terrifying sight of a man over six feet standing over you, his mask staring down at you emotionless.

you don’t scream. no. you stare up at him with a gaping expression, mouth open and eyes wide in terror. your heart skips several beats and your entire world goes radio silent, a ringing noise in your ears. you were paralyzed. paralyzed from fear. you don’t know what to do, your fingers suddenly feel like twenty pounds and your throat is dry.

oh fuck. he’s gonna kill you now, move dumbass!

another long second passes before you quickly move, sitting up and trying to jump over the back of the couch. he’s blocking the front, and his hand comes down to grab your shirt and manhandle you down onto your back again. the couch is a pull out so you’re thrashing around with your legs stretched out, fist throwing weak punches. he easily holds your wrist down and stares silently down at you.

tears fill your eyes, trembling in fear. you try and muster up the courage to speak but each words stays on the tip of your tongue, wavering shakily in your head.

“who are you?!” you finally managed to to shriek, fist clenched and your wrists being held by his large hands. his fingers were thick and long, his body well over six feet with a large amount of mass. the size difference was laughable.

his heavy breathing echoes in your ears, taunting you. he doesn’t answer your question, instead he slowly picks up his knife and drags it down your neck. the tip of his knife catches into your skin lightly and you whimper at the feeling. it stings.

his knife is dragged from your neck to your collarbone, tugging aimlessly at your collar. his movements hold no rush, instead ease and stealth. his mask is staring down at you as you bite your lip, muffling your pained sniffles as the knife nicks at your collarbone.

“why are you doing this?” you croak. he doesn’t answer.

the knife along your skin continues its journey down your stomach until it drifts along your pajama shorts, slowly creeping underneath the waistband and letting it snap against your skin. he’s inhuman, not making a single noise and instead drinking in each of your cries and reactions to his touch.

his grip around your wrists stiffen, gripping you tighter and holding you down firmer onto the couch. your hips squirm weakly before you’re shut up by the small nick he delivers to your soft skin. a silent warning.

the knife against your neck and the rope around your wrists is a reminder to stay quiet and still as he slowly sinks his cock inside you. it’s thick and girthy, the size belittling all the other boys you’ve ever touched. it hurts, the feeling of having your walls getting stretched by his mushroom tip.

a small sob leaves at the feeling, your hands tugging weakly at the rope, pretty tears covering your flushed cheeks. a burn in your pussy aches your lower body, thighs tensing up as he inches his way deeper and deeper. your cunt squeezes him tight and he doesn’t give any reaction other then his fists grabbing the cushion around you tighter, the fabric wrinkling.

“t-that hurts, hey— stop, slow down at least,” you plead pitifully. your voice is smaller then intended, your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as the thickness has you going silent. you don’t have the bravery to complain any further, not after he pushes his knife a little closer to your neck. you go silent immediately.

the feeling of him sitting inside you still is only temporary before he slowly pushes out, leaving just the tip, before slamming back inside. he’s brutal with the way he buries himself deeply, making sure every centimeter of himself is squeezed tight. a moan you do your best to muffle escapes your throat.

he repeats the action again, slowly pulling out only to slam himself deeper again. somehow his tip presses against your g-spot, making you clench down and gasp. his hands grasp your waist, the difference in his fingers and your torso noticeable— he can almost fit his entire two hands around your stomach.

you were nothing compared to this big, burly man. not with the way he was holding your waist down and slamming his cock in and out, knife discarded by your side. your eyes roll back as you moan, lips quivering and producing noises you can no longer stop. not when he was this good at fucking you.

more slams of his hips had you clenching down, crying out for him to slow down and give you mercy. he was mean, battering your insides and plummeting his cock inside, like he didn’t wanna go a single second without being sheathed inside your warm cunt. he can feel the way your walls squeeze him and a low grunt escapes his throat, squeezing your waist tight.

one if his hands grabs your neck and squeezes, not gentle at all. you can feel your air ways get cut off and your eyes go wide. and your pussy tightens even more, making him cum deep inside. his load is thick and hot, painting your insides the creamy white color. it’s not surprising you immediately cum afterwards, the penetration and the warm stickiness making you cry loudly and release in his cock.

he slowly pulls his cock out and watches as the cream pie leaks out of your pussy, staining the couch fabric a dusty white. you shudder at the feeling of emptiness after being used to being stuffed full. a small hiccup leaves you, trembling still.

you gasp as one of his hands grab your thighs, holding it still while his hand slowly grabs the knife beside you. you stiffen in fear and shake your head, whimpering and pleading.

“please don’t— i was good— don’t hurt me—“ you’re shut up by him squeezing your thigh hard, a silent warning. you shut up, muffling your hiccups and cries. you watch as he slowly drags his knife to your meaty thigh and presses down with a little bit of pressure, making little lines. small droplets of blood drip down your thigh and you want to vomit.

he tilts his head down at you, silently wondering so many things. why were you crying? if you looked closely, he had marked his name. that was no reason to cry.

[aventoru]

when you take pictures in his phone

character(s) : sae, rin, kaiser

warning(s) : none

a/n : this is another repost from my old acc!!

SAE ITOSHI

usually, sae itoshi would be pissed off if someone touched his posessions without his permission

but with you, it’s a different story

maybe it’s partially his fault for inviting you out for dinner after his practice session

he shouldn’t have asked you to come to along with him knowing full well you would get bored

but he did, and that’s how he ends up scrolling through his photo album, dozens of selfies of you fill the 3x3 layout

if it’s anyone else, sae will not hesitate to insult their…photography techniques and immediately delete the photos

but this is you, his long-time friend and maybe—sae wishes in his heart— something even more than that

he looks up at you with a deadpan expression, trying to formulate the words to tell you off, but he doesn’t have the spirit to do that

“y/n, what is this?” he starts

“well, y’know, i got bored so i decided to pass time by messing with your phone. i didn’t get the chance to delete the pics but you can delete them now,” you admit

sae feels his heart drop for making you feel guilty about something seemingly harmless. but to be fair, he has no rizz doesn’t know how to react to situations like these, you are simply too cute

from the look your face, sae knows you think he’s mad at you when in fact, it’s quite the opposite

he finds your pictures stunning. you are softly smiling in them, sometimes even winking playfully

the poses and hand gestures in the photos are iconic, although the 0.5x zooms are his favorites

he has to resist the urge to set one as his lockscreen (but sadly you two were only friends for now)

sae decides, that one day he would tell you his feelings but until then he’ll continue giving you…hints

“why would i delete those pics? you look cute,” he locks his phone and stuff it in his pocket

sae’s decision to keep the pics is final as he beckons you out of the facility and into his car

you follow along with a blushing face and a stuttering heart

and oh- is that a smile on his face?

RIN ITOSHI

rin is scowling when he catches you red-handed as you take selfies on his phone

in your defense, it’s a joke, and you are planning on deleting the pictures

you’re good friends with rin, and naturally, you assume it’s okay for you to do that. you do that to all your other friends all the time, so there shouldn’t be a problem with rin, right?

you’re midway through pressing the round button for another selfie when you feel a presence next to you

you don’t even need to turn your head to know who it is, considering rin’s black hair is in the frame of the camera

you hurriedly put down the phone and immediately start to select the previously taken photos with the intent of deleting them

“what are you doing?” he questions as he peers down at your administrations

you regret your previous actions, considering this is itoshin rin, the most blunt person you know.

perhaps he doesn’t find this as funny or casual as you think he will

“i’m deleting these photos, sorry for invading your privacy,” you unconsciously pouts and he notices it

“what? hey, no, don’t do that,” he snatches his phone away from your grip

“why not? you’re obviously upset,” you gesture towards the scowl on his face

“i’m not upset, i just have a resting bitch face,” he clarifies, not daring to look at your face.

“it’s just…if you do this again, i want to take pics with you, too.”

“oh,” you raised your eyebrows, dumbfounded

OH. MY. GOD. HE WANTS TO WHAT???

“so you wanna take pics with me, huh?” a smug expression appears on your face.

rin stares back unimpressed

“i’m deleting these pics,” he selects all the pictures threateningly

“no don’t!!!” it was your turn to stop him now

MICHAEL KAISER

kaiser loves to tease you at any chance he gets

so when he catches you taking selfies on his phone, he is ready to make an embarassment out of you

but considering he’s head over heels for you himself, he thinks maybe he won’t embarrass you too much and let you off the hook for once

and besides, you’re quite bold for taking the michael kaiser’s phone and filling it with pictures of yourself, if he isn’t intrigued by you before, he definitely is now

so when you hear kaiser’s laid back tone calliing for your attention, you immediately hide his phone away from view, hoping that you would be able to delete your pics in time

but kaiser is faster, and he easily snatches the phone away from your seemingly vice grip

“daring to take pictures of yourself on my phone, i see?” he smirks and you so desperately want to wipe it off his face

“just delete those pics then,” you retort back knowing full well you’re in the wrong

“i never said anything about not liking them,” he teases, handing the phone back to you

“since you wanna take pics so much, let’s take one together,” he continues after seeing the perplexed look on your face

your eyes widen but you obey nonetheless, extending your arm to capture both of you in the frame

meanwhile, kaiser takes this opportunity to make you more flustered than you already are

he gingerly wraps his arms around you waist and pulls you close and proceeds to hide his face in the crook of your neck

the only thing visible to the camera was his side profile and the cocky smirk that still adorns his face

the proximity made you nervous and you hope he doesn’t make out your quickened heartbeat

you could feel kaiser’s hot breath on your collarbones and since when did his cologne smell so good???

“are you gonna take the picture or not?” he speaks up, breaking your train of thought

“of course i am,” you clear your throat

you internally hold your breath as you snap a pic and try to detangle yourself from kaiser right after

“hey, where are you going? i never told you to take just one,” kaiser holds you back in place

the way he looks at you tells you everything you need to know : he’s already figured out your little crush on him, hasn’t he?

[ninibeingdelulu]

Seeing you wearing his jersey…

ft. meguru bachira, oliver aiku, michael kaiser

Bachira :

A brilliant flush instantly paints Bachira's cheeks crimson when he notices the oversized #8 jersey swamping your slight frame.

Those big, expressive eyes go comically wide, lips parting soundlessly for several moments too stunned to articulate a single word.

Finally, he lets out a strangled gurgling noise that might resemble a muddled "C-c-cute!" Had anyone fluent in the Bachira language been nearby to translate.

The flustered, messy-haired striker wrings his hands together, completely undone in the face of your open appreciation for him. Multiple incoherent blatherings spill out as he angles his face down to try (and fail) to mask his furious blush.

Despite his sputtering, Bachira can't stop sneaking awestruck, smiling peeks at you wearing his kit - utterly endeared by your simple, heartfelt display.

Oliver :

Oliver quite literally has to do a double-take upon first laying eyes on you sporting his infamous #2 jersey. Those kaleidoscopic teal orbs go wide behind stylish red rims.

"Oh? Isn't that a rather unexpected fashion choice, love?" The mischievous striker waggles his eyebrows suggestively as he saunters over.

Already you feel those long, skilled fingers drifting beneath the loose fabric hem - skating up the sensitive skin of your sides as he leans in with a wolfish grin. "Though I certainly can't complain in the slightest...".

Oliver bursts into peals of rich laughter at your squirming protests, tugging you flush against his toned body so he can admire the way his kit looks draped across your curves. "Cheeky minx - I absolutely insist you keep wearing that for me.".

His thumbs trace delicious circles against the small of your back as he nips at the sensitive spot below your ear. "Maybe then I'll behave...".

Michael :

The German emperor's heterochromatic eyes flash with blistering intensity as he surveys you through the lens of his unshakable focus.

Even dressed so haphazardly in his iconic #10 jersey, you've captivated Michael's full, eerily still attention in a way few things ever manage.

He stalks towards you with leonine grace, jaw locked and shoulders thrown back imperiously - every inch the untamable apex predator.

Only once Michael towers over you does his gaze smolder with something darker than cursory appraisal. That scorching look sears a white-hot trail over your body, setting nerves alight .

One calloused palm cups your jaw in a borderline punishing grip, tilting your face back as he searches your eyes for something indefinable. When he finally speaks, it's in a low snarl that raises goosebumps.

"Just make sure you know whose name you're wearing across yourself, mein juwel..."

Michael's ferocious claim settles like a brand over your lips in a toe-curling kiss that leaves you shaken and utterly his.

[hotvintagepoll]

Marjorie Main (The Women, Summer Stock)—a world weary dame who wore her midwestern accent on her sleeve. marjorie main kills it as a reno ranch owner in "the women" (1939) and as warm mother hens <3 she was no shabby actor either! this scene with her and humphrey bogart fucking haunts me [link]

Zero Mostel (A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, The Producers)—Archetypal. Comedian of all time. The worst combover in cinematic history, probably. Could make more laughter with one muscle in a singular eyebrow than 98% of all men across the face of the earth. Hardcore Committer to the Bit. Man of all time, and also told HUAC directly where they could shove it, which is a primally appealing and scrungly quality.

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Marjorie Main:

Zero Mostel:

"The chase scene in FORUM is just. it's fucking iconic. It's one of the funniest pieces of cinema I've ever seen in any context, everything about it is genius, and the heart and soul of it is Zero Mostel as Pseudolus. Casting him alongside a young Michael Crawford (of later Phantom of the Opera fame) really highlights the differences between the young romantic lead and the older, sensible, and yet entirely scrungly middle aged man (Mostel was 55 at the time) somehow manages to come off as even more desirable. He has no shit together, not very good plans, is panicked for most of the story, and the charisma of a champ. His flailing, helpless attempts at fighting the gladiator is so... he's so scrungly. "

"He's not fancy, he's not pretty, he's not good at much of anything, but he is Genius despite that."

"There is a magic to Zero Mostel that he manages to bring to roles where he is simultaneously the worst person ever, and also, compelling in every possible way. He had his biggest period of fame in middle age after he got taken off the Hollywood blacklist, and being a fat middle aged man with thinning hair is what gives every single bit of his characters power. As the original Max Bialystock he would eat the entirety of The Producers except that Gene Wilder as Leo Bloom is a genius casting decision, as Mostel's intensity against Wilder's deep discomfort ends up being the right chemistry. In many ways he reminds me of Buster Keaton, the pinnacle of hot scrungly little guy—a unique and expressive face, an instinctive understanding of comedy, active at the same time, and also they were both in FORUM together. Mostel came from an Orthodox Jewish family, was a trained painter with a degree in art, spoke four languages, and when he was blacklisted during the Red Scare and brought before the HUAC, he didn't just refuse to name names, he made fun of the senators. He was disabled after an accident, and still did dancing in movies and things like stunts in FORUM. He did a ton of work on Broadway too, including originating Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof, making the musical more Jewish as he did so. Frankly, I don't think any of those roles (or the eventual later film versions of Fiddler/musical version of the Producers) would work with anyone else. It had to be a fat balding middle aged leftist Jew from Brooklyn. The scrungly is essential.

"the scrungle factor of max in every version of the producers is through the roof but nathan lane does it as suave scrungle. zero mostel does not do suave scrungle. he does old jewish man getting into an argument with the rabbi at the full synagogue passover seder about how much wine has to be in the glass for it to count as "one cup" scrungle; he does old jewish man whose entire fridge is full of pickled herring scrungle. it's offputting in all the ways that make it genius."

[storiesofamoment]

𝔻𝕚𝕝𝕦𝕔 | Sway

*↷◌ Info:

||Character: Diluc ||Origin: Genshin Impact ||Word Count: 3,560 ||Musical Inspiration: Sway by Michael Bubblé ||Synopsis: [Y/N] is a well-known singer in Mondstadt, and regularly performs at Diluc's tavern. The two are said to be good friends, but wouldn't they have a more intimate relationship when the doors are closed?

⁎↣♡↢⁎

Tonight, at Angel's Share, Mondstadt's iconic tavern, an unusual event was going to take place inside. On the ground floor, a small stage had been set up, with a few instruments resting on it. Then, at the front, in the center, a solitary microphone. This small set-up intrigued the new customers, wondering about the reason for this different decor than usual. But the regulars of the small tavern knew what was going to happen. Every other Friday night, a singer with a honeyed voice came to do her show, occasionally filling the tavern with customers who were fond of her singing.

For Diluc, bartender and owner of this warm place, the arrival of this singer allowed him to come and boost his takings if the week had not been flourishing enough for him. Of course, that was not the only reason why he particularly appreciated these evenings. But being true to himself, Diluc would never admit the effect this female presence had on him, at least, not in public.

[Y/N] POV:

The tavern was slowly starting to fill up, creating a joyful hubbub within it. Diluc was at the counter, cleaning glasses or serving drinks. His serious look even in this party atmosphere made me smile. Rare are the moments when I was able to see him smile, but I cherish them like nothing in the world. My gaze continued its path from his face to this flaming red hair, giving him a wild and elegant look at the same time. Then my eyes went down the back of his neck to reach his muscular and yet, full of finesse torso. I couldn't take my eyes off this captivating silhouette.

"Stop staring at him like that, you're going to drool [Y/N]." said one of my musicians laughing.

I turned around, letting out a slight sigh before answering him somewhat hurt.

"It's not my fault if he's handsome! How could you not want to admire this charming profile? "I said, a slight smile on my lips, casting one last glance at this marble face.

"Haha, no but look at those languid eyes. Doesn't our dear [Y/N] have a little crush on the distant and mysterious bartender?" added another musician.

I frowned and looked away from Diluc while crossing my arms.

"I don't see what makes you say that. Come on, enough chatter, we're going to go on stage soon!"

The little troupe exchanged a few knowing glances before laughing. A smirk appeared on my lips before I took the handle of the back door, making us enter directly next to the small stage. We had barely passed the doorstep when all the eyes of the tavern turned towards us, becoming the center of attention. It must also be said that we were rather chic. Each of the musicians wore a cream three-piece suit, all accompanied by a pastel pink bow tie. For my part, I had opted for a black satin dress with a boat neck. This dress delicately enveloped my body, softening the curves of my body. Finally, I wore pastel pink lace gloves, going up to the elbow, reminiscent of the musicians' bow tie. The whole thing was quite minimalist, while having elegance.

We smiled at the whole room, delighted to see that thereweree still so many people ready to come and listen to us; it warms the heart. While the musicians were settling in, I could hear the murmurs that would run through the tavern about us. Murmurs of excitement, of questioning, of apprehension. It was then that I placed myself in front of the microphone,an tested if the sound was working, and the tavern fell silent, impatient to know how the evening would go.

"Good evening everyone! I see that, tonight again, there are many of us and we are impatient for the evening to begin, aren't we? " I said into the microphone, smiling because of the excitement that was starting to build.

"YEAH! " shouted the entire tavern in a burst of joy and good humor.

"Haha, good good. I see that everyone is in good shape again tonight. Well, let's start without further delay with the first song which is dedicated to the person who knew how to make my heart beat with passion, who knew how to make my skin shiver with pleasure, and who with a simple touch inflamed my entire being with the great fire that is love. I chose the song Sway! "

Following this declamation, a wave of whistles ran through the audience intrigued to know who this lucky chosen one was. I took the opportunity to cast a furtive glance in Diluc's direction. The latter remained impassive in front of the counter, taking care of the customers; he didn't even deign to look at me. But I knew that my words hadn't left him so indifferent, although he showed the opposite. The tips of his ears as well as his cheekbones took on a slightly pink tint, a very discreet change, but one that didn't escape my eyes. Seeing this reaction in Diluc, I turned my attention back to the room, a satisfied smile stuck to my lips.

"Musicians!"

They exchanged a look, all smiling and immediately began to play the melody. I took a deep breath and calmed my breathing by closing my eyes for a few seconds, before starting to sing even more beautifully.

« . »

When marimba rhythms start play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze Bend with me, sway with ease When we dance, you have a way with me Stay with me, sway with me

Other dancers may be on the floor Dear, but my eyes will see only you Only you have that magic technique When we sway, I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violons Long before it begins Make me thrill as only you know how Sway me smooth, sway me now

Other dancers may be on the floor Dear, but my eyes will see only you Only you have that magic technique When we sway, I go weak

I can hear the sounds of violons Long before it begins Make me thrill as only you know how Sway me smooth, sway me now

When marimba rhythms start play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze Bend with me, sway with ease When we dance, you have a way with me Stay with me, sway with me

When marimba rhythms start play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me more

Like a flower bending in the breeze Bend with me, sway with ease When we dance, you have a way with me Stay with me, sway with me

« . »

At the end of my performance, I took the opportunity to wink at Diluc, hoping this time for a more pronounced reaction from the bartender. But unfortunately, it was not to be.

After only one song, the tavern was already boiling and asking for more. My companions and I couldn't stop smiling at the crowd's enthusiasm. I caught my breath before taking the microphone back in my hands.

"Do you want some more?"

A unanimous "Yes" emerged throughout the tavern, making us understand that the evening would not end there. It was then, after two or three sips of water, that the musicians started playing again, me accompanying them with my voice that resonated through all the walls of the small tavern.

Diluc's POV:

The first song had barely finished, and yet, the room was already asking for more. Out of the corner of my eye I had seen him wink at me, but I didn't react. At least, I didn't show it, because I knew very well that deep down, my heart was beating slightly faster against my ribcage simply because of that wink.

I continued to serve the customers who were numerous at the counter. Of course, Venti was there, but I fear that the 10 bottles of wine had gotten the better of his conscience. I sighed, discouraged, to see him slumped on a table in my tavern, still a bottle in his hand and an idiot's smile hanging on his lips. Sometimes I wonder if he is who he really claims to be; the archon Anemo. I shook my head from right to left in despair before resuming the task I was doing.

On the other side of the room, [Y/N] continued to sing more beautifully, without ever stopping. From time to time, I threw a few furtive glances in her direction while remaining as discreet as possible, not wanting to arouse any suspicions. And yet, the more I looked at her, the more difficult it was for me to detach my gaze from her silhouette. This sublime body was becoming intoxicating, and this face, an angel's face, which exudes tenderness and love. Her fine and delicate features, her eyes filled with a burning fire of passion, an her lips slightly pink from the lipstick made them even more delicious. And her voice, how could we not talk about it. The timbre of her voice could be both strong and soft, aggressive and tender, sensual and delicate. Her voice was comparable to nothing in this world, it was so unique and captivating. And that low, slow vibrato she could produce by reaching for a sound from deep within her; it gave me shivers of excitement. It's incredible the effect [Y/P] has on me.

I smiled tenderly as I watched her enjoy singing in front of this effervescent crowd. Lost in thought, I admired her peacefully before a certain voice that was a little too familiar pulled me out of my dreams.

"She's lovely, don't you think?" he said in a cheerful tone, his eyes fixed on [Y/N's] silhouette.

No need to raise my head to know who the voice belonged to. I simply decided to continue carrying out my various tasks without paying her too much attention.

"Don't you have anything else to do but come and drink in my tavern?"

"Hahaha, even visiting my brother is forbidden to me now? " he said with a glass of liqueur in his hand, his mischievous look never leaving his face.

I raised my head and glared at him. Not wanting to make the situation worse, I decided to just let him do it, after all, I had more important things to do at the moment.

"Well stay, if that suits you, but try to drink responsibly in my establishment. I don't want to find myself dealing with another drunk in my tavern."

He let out a small chuckle before nodding and walking away, his glass in his hand.

POV [Y/N] :

The evening was beginning to come to an end and the tavern had only a few customers left. Exhausted from this evening of celebration, I decided to go and sit down for a few moments at the counter to find my dear bartender. The musicians, for their part, had just gone home, just as exhausted from the evening. I sat down on one of the high chairs at the counter, and lovingly observed Diluc's serious face, focused on one task at a time. He raised his head in my direction, asking me what I would like to have. At that moment, my lips stretched into an affectionate smile, having eyes only for him.

"I'll get you a glass of whiskey, my dear."

As soon as I said my order, he got to work and finally served me my drink a few minutes later. I took a few sips of my liqueur before putting the glass back on the tavern's varnished counter. I looked up to have his face in my field of vision.

"So, what do you think of tonight's performance?" I asked, intrigued to know his impression tonight again.

"We can say once again that it was successful given the number of customers who gathered around you and the stage." he answered me, an indifferent look on his face. A sigh escaped my lips, somewhat disappointed by this lack of reaction. But hey, what did I expect, this is Diluc we're talking about. And yet, that's one of the reasons why my little heart fell for him.

"Still neutral from what I see. And what about my first song? Did it make your heart shiver with passion?" I questioned him again, this time a little mischievous grin at the corner of my mouth. It was at this moment that I could see the tips of his ears again, as well as his cheekbones very slightly taking on a pink tint. My smile widened, already knowing the answer to my question, but I still wanted to know what disinterested comment Diluc was going to give me.

"I don't see why a song would have such an effect on my heart condition [Y/N]. However, it's getting late, you should go home to rest. " his seriousness never left his face.

"Roooohhh la la, always so pragmatic I see. You could at least say that you enjoyed my singing instead of making derogatory remarks. " I sighed before taking another sip of my whiskey, finishing it at the same time.

"But, would the impassive bartender of the Angel's Share tavern be worrying about me by asking me to come home early?"

"Not necessarily. I'm more worried about working overtime."

"You know, it's not by remaining so cold that you're going to succeed in winning my heart." I answered dramatically, exaggerating the situation.

"Would you please stop your charade and go home? We're in public here, in the tavern." He said softly, casting furtive glances to the right and left to see if a customer was silently listening to the conversation.

"Haha, are you afraid that someone will misunderstand our relationship? Well, fine, I'm going home. I'll warm the bed while waiting for you, my darling~"

I whispered the last words in his ear before turning around to leave the tavern. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him blush, making me smile, satisfied. Only, I didn't suspect that a certain person had seen everything, and heard what's more.

"…"

Next morning

The few rays that passed through the bedroom curtain brushed my face, waking me up gently. Quietly, I opened my eyes, not wanting to be blinded by the morning light. I stretched out my arm next to me and felt the bed, but nothing. I only felt the remains of his body heat, as well as the few scents still present in the sheets. So I sat up on the bed before getting out.

As I headed towards the kitchen, a sweet smell of food filled my nostrils, making my mouth water. I quickened my pace in order to find myself in the kitchen as quickly as possible. When I arrived in the room, I was greeted by a Diluc at the stove, concentrating on every movement he made. A smile appeared on my lips and I walked towards him.

"Good morning Diluc. So, did you sleep well?" I told him with a little wink.

He raised his head and looked into mine, this time, I could clearly see the tenderness marrying the features of his face. As if, in a place hidden from view, even the most disinterested bartender could turn out to be tender and attentive to his better half. He smiled at me tenderly before putting what he was holding in his hands on the counter to get closer to me.

"Very well, and you my love?"

He slid his arms along my waist, pulling me closer to him. A stifled laugh came out of my mouth as I let him do it.

"Why didn't you wake me up when you came back? I didn't even get to kiss you goodnight."

"You were sleeping so peacefully. And then, you know that it is not advisable to wake up a sleeping angel, especially when the latter is called [Y/N]. But you can always give me a kiss to wish me a good day."

He placed a brief kiss on my forehead while tightening the embrace. This time, it was my turn to blush like a tomato. He has the gift of, with just a few words, making me capsize and lose my bearings. I buried my face in his chest so that he wouldn't see how much I could be mistaken for his flaming red hair. However, he must have surely noticed my shyness because, with my ear against his chest, I heard his ribcage resonate in a light laugh before he brought his lips close to my ears to whisper these few words to me

"I love you, [Y/N]."

To which I obviously answered in the affirmative, a childish smile on my face. Then, I raised my head and looked into his eyes. We both observed each other lovingly, neither wanting to break the embrace. My eyes went down slightly to rest on his thin, pink lips; so delicious that one wanted to bite into them. I placed my hands on each of his cheeks, and on tiptoe, placed my lips against his. He kissed me passionately as if it were still the first time. His arms closed more around my figure, leaving almost no space between our two bodies, while our lips danced in unison following a rapid rhythm. Hastily, this kiss became passionate and filled with love for the other, while keeping a form of tenderness. I took advantage of this intimacy to slide my hand along his back before reaching his buttocks. My hand caressed him before taking him firmly, sticking us closer. Faced with this initiative, Diluc gasped, visibly surprised by this action. I could even see a blushing Diluc, almost shy and embarrassed. But I must admit, seeing Diluc in this state for the first time made him so cute and sexy at the same time, and made me fall under his spell once again.

"Diluc, I was looking for you just to tell you that-"

Suddenly, we heard a male voice resonate in the room. We stopped dead before turning our faces towards the said voice. It was then that we saw a Kaeya, straight as an i, too shocked to say or do anything. A silence settled in the kitchen, a long silence heavy with meaning. No one said anything, but everyone understood the situation.

"I KNEW YOU WERE HAVING A BUSINESS WITH [Y/N]!"

Kaeya suddenly cried out, making Diluc and I jump. Then, another silence before I burst out laughing. Only, Diluc, himself, didn't find the situation as funny as I did. In the blink of an eye, he had resumed his serious and stern look while looking at his brother. For my part, I couldn't stop laughing, so perfect was the comedy of the situation. Obviously, even his own brother didn't know everything.

"You didn't even warn your brother? Hahaha, you really are heartless my dear Diluc."

I turned in Kaeya's direction, a perplexed look on my face. I wiped away a few tears of joy before continuing.

"We are much more than just a business, Kaeya."

As I said that, I showed him my left ring finger as well as Diluc's, now clearly showing our wedding rings. Kaeya's reaction was most entertaining. The latter expected anything but this ending, I think. Just seeing his six-foot-long face in shock, it was the last possibility. Diluc, on the other hand, didn't seem very happy that his brother learned the news. I smiled and kissed Diluc briefly before leaving the kitchen to give them a little moment to explain.

"Well, I think some explanations need to be done, in the meantime, I'm going to take a shower."

"You better explain to me why I didn't know Diluc."

As I quietly walked away from the kitchen, I stopped before intervening one last time.

"Ah, and no duel between brothers, huh, I'm counting on you my darling ~"

I finally left the room, a satisfied look on my face.

Not telling your brother about such a change, you have to do it anyway.

⁎↣♡↢⁎

[jeridandridge]

Hi! Idk if your asks are open rn, I know you got a lot in your requests. But I thought of this little fluffy idea and you're my fave writer on here so I thought I'd throw it your way and see if you liked it enough to write it!

It's a dark and stormy night and Melissa takes reader to a scary movie for date night, which basically scars the reader (in a cute funny way obvs lol) and she has to stay over at Melissa's bc she is terrified. But what she doesn't know is Melissa is low-key also terrified. Every floorboard creaking, shadows on the walls, trees knocking against the windows 👻👻👻 you know?

Cute, fluffy, funny with a happy ending. If ya feel like it!

💕💕

This was so much fun to write I hope you dig it! Thank you for the request. 🩷

Deadites and Baseball Bats.

“Cmon, Mel.” You chuckle jogging up to the door to hold it open for your girlfriend. It was starting to rain outside and you knew it would only get worse throughout the night.

“Ya know I still don’t know why you picked this one, hon.” She quirks a brow as you two get to the snack area. You’d made sure to get the tickets for the movie the day before, mostly because you knew that way you wouldn’t chicken out.

“It’s supposed to be really good! My brother showed me the original when I was way too little now I wanna see this one.” You smile at the memory. You like some horror, but it still scared you. Hell, Michael meyers was a figure in your nightmares even when you were in high school.

“You saw Evil Dead when you were a kid?!” Melissa’s eyes go wide and you can’t help but laugh at her expression as you reach for her hand.

“I told you my brother wasn’t the best babysitter.”

You pay for your usual snack of popcorn and a bag of peanut M&Ms to share, even though Melissa always tells you to just sneak stuff in. In the theater you sit munching on your snacks waiting for the movie to start.

“I wonder how scary this one’s gonna be.” Melissa hums as the lights dim. When the movie starts you scoot closer to your girlfriend noting how the atmosphere in the movie is just like how it is outside now. Rain pelting down and dark. Too dark.

The movie starts out easy enough, but eventually your find yourself hiding your face in your girlfriends hair. “That’s not what a cheese grater is for!” You squeak.

“Woah!” Melissa lets out pushing further back into her seat, her hand on your thigh.

Throughout the movie you play peekaboo through your girlfriends hair, holding onto her arm for dear life.

“That’s more blood than when they got my uncle Tony.” Melissa winces.

You start to relax when the character wields the iconic chainsaw, finally killing the mutant deadite. After the movie you let out a breath and stand up blown away and terrified of what you watched.

“I can’t believe she went after all her kids.” The red head comments as you two head out of the theater.

“I mean, it wasn’t really her, the deadite was just using her.” You reason, your face falling when you get to the lobby. The glass doors give you a peak of an angry dark purple sky and lightning striking through black clouds.

“Ready to make a run for it, hon?” Melissa asks resting her hand on your lower back.

You nod pushing the door open.

“You can’t help but laugh when you two reach the car, Melissa trying to fix her soaking wet hair.

“Oh baby.” You laugh reaching over to wipe away smeared mascara. “My little raccoon.” You tease.

“Shut up, scaredy cat.” She teases you getting the car moving. As you two head home you can’t help but jump when a roll of thunder crashes seemingly right above you.

“Fuck.” You mutter looking out the window. The sky had grown even darker, making it look much later than 10 o’clock. The wind whipping around rattles the car and you reach over holding the sleeve of Melissa’s leather jacket.

Back at home you two get in shaking off the water.

“I’m gonna get some candles out just in case. That wind is too strong.” Melissa comments heading upstairs.

For some reason, when Melissa goes upstairs you feel like a child again, feet stuck in cement blocks unable to move with fear running through you. You think of how ridiculous it is.

“It’s just a movie.” You tell yourself moving through the house to get to the kitchen. All of a sudden you hear a zap and everything goes black.

“Oh fuck.” You cry out, your heart racing. “Mel!”

“I’m comin I’m comin, hon.” She huffs flicking a lighter for the candle in her hand.

Your hand grips the door frame and you don’t let go until you see your girlfriend glowing in the candle light.

“If I weren’t so freaked out id tell you how hot you look in that candlelight.” You breathe out with a nervous laugh.

Melissa moves through the dimly lit area holding the large glass candle.

“You’re scared and you still manage to flirt.” She chuckles wrapping her arm around your waist. “Cmon, baby I’ll keep you safe.” She teases.

“That movie was terrifying! I don’t know why I did that.”

“But we did have fun.” Melissa smiles in the dark. When you two get to your bedroom she sets the candle down on the dresser and moves to light more.

You strip getting rid of your wet clothes and changing into your sweatpants and one of Melissa’s eagles shirts.

You take a step forward and when you do the hardwood floor creaks forcing you to freeze.

“What was-“ Melissa whips around, stoping when she sees you on a certain part of the floor.

“Is the big and tough Melissa Schemmenti scared too?” You tease climbing into bed.

“I am not! It sounded weird, I didn’t know if- whatever.” She waves her hand continuing to take her makeup off. You sit in bed with the blanket pulled up to your chin, your phone in hand you scroll trying to take your mind off of the howling wind outside and the freaky deadites.

“Remind me to get rid of the cheese grater.” Melissa hums climbing in next to you.

“Oh god.” You shudder remembering the scene. “No cheese graters or tattoo machines in this house.”

“Deal.” The red head laughs wrapping her arm around you. You shift scooting back to have her behind you. She holds you a little tighter than she normally does, the sound of the rain hitting the window starts to lull you to sleep until youre jolted out of your haze by the sound of glass breaking and a door slamming.

“What the fuck was that?!” Melissa bolts up resting her hand on your hip. You sit up completely still, listening for anything else.

“Hopefully not a possessed angry zombie mother.” You hiss getting up with the red head. Melissa grabs her bedroom bat and you stand behind her, hands on her back as you both creep through the house.

“If I ever get possessed you better take me out.” She whispers.

“You got it, baby.” You agree, completely tense as you both get down the hall.

“It’s in the bathroom!” she hisses looking at the now closed door.

“I’ll kick it open, you swing.” You whisper standing on the opposite side of the door frame. Your girlfriend gives you a nod and you move like a lightening bolt kicking the door in and moving to the side again as Melissa winds her arms up ready to swing.

“Oh my god.” Melissa sighs bringing a hand to her chest. You look in past her seeing the bathroom window broken and a tree branch through it.

“So not a deadite” you sigh in relief. Melissa steps forward and you pull her back by the arm. “Stop, you’re gonna step on glass. It’s too dark to deal with this right now.”

Melissa puts her arms down closing the door again.

“We’ll have to wait until the morning to do something about that.” She hums.

You can’t help but smile standing beside her. “Thank you for protecting me from deaites and tree branches.”

Melissa laughs intertwining your fingers pulling you back to the bedroom.

“I think we have to put a no scary movies in the dark rule in place.”

“Deal. Big time deal.”

[the-munster-mash]

[Image description: an illustration in the style of a religious icon or tarot card, featuring a woman with brown hair (Melanie King) holding a cane and a broken chain. She has a red bandage over her eyes. There’s a gold halo behind her, with icons of daggers and eyes surrounding her head. The illustration is done in cool red tones]

Next up, Melanie! I could see her being a sort of Archangel Michael, known for liberating and defending those trapped in the domains. She also was the only one to free herself from the entities after being trapped by the Eye, so it only stands to reason that she’d be the patron saint of freedom.

[mrsdesade]

I love Ophera! Tell us more about her, please 🙏

Sure of course, your giving so much love to my girl! 💖 I'm always happy to talk about her and giving you more OCs content! Instead of a simple info dump I got the occasion of this question to recreate a live TV interview with her!

------

Ophera interview;

Pairing: no one, just Ophera stuff (mentioning of her relationship with Homelander and some other characters) TW: nope Timeline: late season 1 Words count: 1,6k

“Welcome back to The Daily Show. I'm Cameron Coleman. And tonight, we have a very special guest. She's one of the most powerful, most enigmatic figures in the whole Vought. She's a superhero, a musician, and a global icon. Please join me in welcoming the incredible Ophera!”

The studio audience erupted in applause as a stunning woman with obsidian black hair and piercing red eyes stepped onto the stage. Ophera, the third member of The Seven.

Cameron's voice, smooth and polished, echoed through the studio, introducing Ophera to the world once more. But this was no ordinary interview. Behind the dazzling facade of the superhero, there was a woman haunted by secrets. As the cameras rolled, a different story was about to unfold. A story that would delve deeper than the carefully crafted public image.

“It’s an honor to have you here. You’ve become a symbol of hope for millions.''

"I just try to do my part."

"And do it you do, spectacularly. The world needs heroes like you, Ophera. But let's peel back the layers a little. Behind the invincible superhero, there's a woman. A woman who's faced unimaginable challenges. Today we are here to ask you some questions, your audience wants to know more and more!"

''Whenever you want, shoot, I'm ready.''

''Let me ask you first, something related to your musical career.''

Where do you draw your inspiration for your music? Is there a particular artist or genre that has influenced you?

"Inspiration is everywhere. A city at night, a broken heart, the taste of iron - it’s all fuel for my music. I've always been drawn to the raw energy of rock, but I'm not afraid to experiment. Oh, I deeply admire Michael Jackson's works and carreer.''

Do you have any pre-show rituals or superstitions?

"Superstitions? That's for amateurs. I prefer a good warm-up and a shot of espresso. If that counts as a ritual, then I'm guilty as charged."

What are your favorite things to do when you're not saving the world or performing on stage?

"When I’m not fighting crimes or performing a stage, you can find me on my motorcycle, lost in thought. Or perhaps in a dimly lit bar, enjoying a drink with my friends. Hey Lara! She wanted to be greeted on live TV!''

What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you on stage?

"Let's just say that once, during a live concert, my metal manipulation went a bit... rogue. Imagine a guitar flying into the audience. It was a show, alright."

''Working for Vought must be such an experience, right?''

How do you view your relationships with some other members of The Seven?

"The Seven…It's a peculiar little family, isn't it? Maeve, a warrior, a seasoned pro. We have a mutual respect, born from years of shared experiences. Starlight, well, she's a breath of fresh air. Her idealism is infectious, even if she can be a bit naive sometimes. Also there's The Deep… let's just say he's a fish out of water. But hey, who am I to judge? We're all just playing our part in this grand spectacle, aren't we?"

What’s the most challenging mission you’ve faced as a member of The Seven?

"Every day is a challenge. From rescuing kittens from trees to stopping world domination, it's a rollercoaster. But if I had to pick one, let's just say it involved a really, really high skyscraper at deep night. Alone. Without flying assistance."

How do you balance the demands of being a superhero with the pressures of maintaining a public image?

"It's a delicate dance, that's for sure. You have to be able to switch gears in a heartbeat. One moment you're saving the world, the next you're on a red carpet. It’s like being an actor, except with superpowers and way less wardrobe malfunctions."

There have been rumors about the darker side of The Seven. What do you think about the growing anti-superhero sentiment?

"Rumors are like shadows, Cameron. They linger in the dark, feeding off fear and ignorance. The Seven are a symbol. Some people prefer to focus on the shadows rather than the light. It's a choice they make."

What is the most challenging aspect of controlling such immense power?

"The most challenging aspect? Resisting the urge to use it on people who deserve it. Power is a double-edged sword, Cameron. It can be used to create or destroy. The trick is knowing which is which."

How do you feel about the limitations of your powers, if any?

"Limitations? No no, I prefer to think of them as challenges. They keep things interesting. Besides, who wants to be invincible? Where's the fun in that?"

Do you believe that the ends justify the means, or do you adhere to a strict moral code?

"Morality is subjective. What's right for one person might be wrong for another. I believe in consequences, however. Every action has a ripple effect."

''Let's get straight to the point, your relationship with Homelander.''

Can you tell us more about how you and Homelander first met? It seems like a match made in heaven.

"A match made in hell maybe! Well, my beloved Homelander. A force of nature. We collided, quite literally, during a mission. It was chaos, destruction, and an undeniable spark. Classic superhero love story, don't you think?"

How does it feel to be considered one of the most powerful couples in the world?

"It's a curious thing, fame. It magnifies everything, including the mundane. Homelander and I are partners, in life and in work. The world sees us as a power couple, but our relationship is far more complex than that."

Girls wants to know. What's the most romantic thing Homelander has ever done for you?

"Homelander? Romantic? That's a new one. Let's just say he knows how to create a good quality moment after dinner."

Fans often look up to your relationship. What advice would you give to couples who aspire to have a love like yours?

"Communication, trust, honestly, and a really good therapist. Just kidding about the last one. Kind of. Or simply: don't date superheroes. It’s messy."

''Your family, quite a delicate topic.''

Could you tell us a bit about your brother, Illuminatio? What was he like?

"He was my rock, my partner in crime. We were inseparable. He had this infectious laugh that could brighten anyone's day. Such a showman...I honestly miss him everyday."

How do you keep Illuminatio's memory alive? Is there anything you do to honor him?

"I try to live a life that would make him proud. And I talk about him all the time. He loved being in the spotlight, he always looked for his place in the world of entertainment. I will do my best to never let his legacy disappear.''

What kind of legacy do you hope to leave behind? Is it more important to be remembered as a hero or as a person?

"A legacy, huh? I'd rather be remembered as a catalyst for change. Someone who challenged the status quo, pushed boundaries, and inspired others to be their best selves. Hero? Person? Why choose? I am both. And I'm proud of it. But if I had to pick, I'd say it's more important to be remembered as a person. Because heroes come and go, but people are forever."

''People wants to know something more about your private life!''

You've been in the public eye for years. How do you manage to maintain a sense of privacy in such a demanding role?

"It's all about finding those quiet moments. A good movie, a glass of wine, and maybe a locked door. Sometimes, even superheroes need a little 'me time'."

Your style is always on point. Who are your fashion inspirations?

"Anyone who's not afraid to take a risk. A bit of edge, much glamour, and a good sparkling dress. Even If sometimes you've to sacrifice your comfort. Except for shoes, oh love, you can't save the world in uncomfortable shoes."

Aside from your superpowers and musical abilities, are there any other hidden talents you possess?

"I'm told I have a talent for driving people absolutely insane! Is that the kind of talent you had in mind?"

Last question! Are you truly happy with your life?

"Happy? Well, It's a complex emotion. I'm content, fulfilled, and occasionally amused. But happiness is a fleeting thing, isn't it? Like a shooting star. Better to focus on making the most of every moment."

The studio audience is on its feet, applauding. Ophera sits on the couch, a relaxed posture contrasting sharply with the intensity of some of the questions. A little smile playing on her red lips. Cameron, visibly impressed, stands up and walks over to Ophera. He extends a hand for a firm handshake.

“There you have it, folks. A glimpse into the life of Ophera. From her humble beginnings to her status as a superhero, she's truly an inspiration. But as she's shown us tonight, even superheroes have their vulnerabilities and their doubts. Ophera, thank you so much for joining us. It's been a pleasure!”

''Thanks to you Cameron for having me, it was fun, let's do it again sometimes! And thanks to all of you who support us every day, you guys, are the real heroes.''

Ophera returns the handshake, her grip strong and confident. The audience erupts in another round of applause. She stands up, her tall figure commanding attention. She walks to the edge of the stage, taking a deep breath. With a wink at the camera, she blows a kiss to the audience. The lights dim as she steps off the stage, leaving the audience buzzing with excitement.

-----------

Thanks again for the request, honestly one of my favourites to write, hope you enjoyed! Kisses <3

[allegras-sunflower]

It’s not just the songs she steals or rips off. It’s the vision that goes along with it. Hair, style, costuming, aesthetic. It’s embarrassing.

I think what’s interesting is you can look at all the artists Taylor’s copying and you can see their inspiration vs their originality in their own work. I’m going to use Britney Spears as an example because I’m most familiar with her. She always credits her inspiration. Whether is Madonna or Janet Jackson or Miley or Selena Gomez or Shakira she will always give credit where credit is due but she puts her own spin on it. Then you see her own ideas and those are the ideas that have had lasting impact on the industry. Look at her baby one more time music video. That was her first piece of work to present to the world and it was all her own idea. Still iconic. Everything Taylor does is an imitation of someone else. She follows the choices of successful people she wants be to because she knows it works. She cultivated enough of a fan base that they will defend her when people say she is completely unoriginal. But what imagery or music has she created that will last generations? None because it’s either a gimmick or a rip off.

Sorry didn’t mean to rant but once I started I couldn’t stop.

Please, don't apologize, you can always rant to me. As a matter of fact, I'm the one who should be saying sorry, cuz I took so long to get back to you!

And I totally know what you mean, when Beyonce wore that military inspired bodysuit, she made sure people understood it was a homage to Michael Jackson's iconic Superbowl outfit. But when Taylor wore a similar black and gold military dress for Reputation, she sure as hell didn't name Beyonce or MJ. Come to think of it, she didn't name Britney Spears as an influence when she did the whole circus theme thing for the Red Tour either.

I also think you're right about TS not having a memorable legacy. Even on the radio stations that so love to play payola with her, when you listen to the 00s specials, you can find Miley songs and Bruno Mars songs, but no TS songs.

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Dorothy Gale Through the Ages:

This is post number 5 for The Cross Roads, where I finish off the girls! The Cross Roads is the tentative title for my crossover AU project which includes The Wizard of Oz, Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, and Milo and the Phantom Tollbooth! The story focuses on the main kids from each story all going to the same school and having whacky adventures!

More info about the AU, additional notes, and non-formatted drawings under the cut. Posts for Alice, Wendy, John, Michael, and Milo.

Chicken Scratch Translation (in the order the boxes should be read):

[Land of Oz Era. Age: 13. Source: Gale family photo album]

[Notes: perhaps the epitome of FDR's saying: "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something esle is more important than fear." Her desire to help others and protect those she is close with will always outweigh the fact that she's easily frightened.]

[Farm Girl Era. Age: 18. Source: Henry Gale's photos, retouched by Alice Lidell]

[Notes: A cheerful and strong young woman who spends a lot of time helping her aunt and uncle with their farm. Dorothy is a very service-oriented person who distracts herself from her own uncertainty about life by solving her loved ones' problems instead.]

[Survey Pilot Era. Age: 30. Source: Hangar Security Cameras]

[Notes: After getting her pilot's license to cropdust, Dorothy found a passion for flight. She uses her skills to do weather tracking and mapping at Gale Farms and values her crew and coworkers like a second family.]

AU Info:

I am using a mix of canons, mostly for familiarity reasons, but also a couple others that I may or may not eventually specify. I am using the Warner Bros movie for the Wizard of Oz; the book for Milo and the Phantom Tollbooth; both books for Alice in Wonderland; and a mix of the book, the stageplay, and the Disney movie for Peter Pan, but primarily the Disney movie.

This is a modern!AU that takes place sometime between the 90s and the 2010s.

The story will be equally split between a highschool!AU that focuses on their mundane adventures and a fantastical plot that will take them to all the Magical Otherworlds in the original stories.

Their school is 7-12. At the time of the story, Alice and Michael are 8th graders, Milo and John are sophomores, and Dorothy and Wendy are seniors.

While the canon events of Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland still took place in England, both families moved to Kansas sometime after. That's right folks, we've finally specified a setting! The way I wrote Dorothy made her home and her family very important to her, and I don't think I can easily justify her family leaving their farm. So, while the town will have undergone some massive expansion, Dorothy is the only one who has never moved! Milo will also be a transplant, having lived in the indeterminate American suburbia of another state, most likely in the south east.

There will be ships: Dorothy x Wendy, who are both some kind of sapphic but unsure of their more specific labels; and John x Milo. John is gay and Milo is aspec, and they will be shipped in an aspec way. Alice and Michael will be single, but Alice is pan and Michael is the token straight.

These information files exist in universe! Who could be making them? Questions for you to find out another day!

Additional Notes:

Dorothy provided a couple of unique art challenges for me that I wanted to state in the main post instead of the tags:

As anyone who has seen the previous posts will have noticed, I am aggressively rainbow color coding these fuckers. Unfortunately for me, the obvious blue was already taken by Alice, so I had to pick another color for Dorothy! Ruby slippers + auburn hair=red color coding, but her blue dress is so iconic that I felt I had to keep it for my stylized version of her canon design, so it's her elementary school uniform.

Also related to my color coding issues, the shift in the Warner Bros movie from sepia-toned Kansas to technicolor Oz is also very iconic, and I wanted to include a homage to that somehow, so I decided your local hick Uncle Henry probably has an old-ass camera that takes non-color photos, and the kids offered to retouch it for him with a computer so he could have a color keepsake of his little girl. This is also why Dorothy's file has a lot more drawings than everybody else (technically there are more unique drawings of Alice but shh).

Survey pilot may seem a little out of left field for the profession, but these were chosen with care. I feel like Dorothy has been hyper aware of and fascinated by weather patterns since the Tornado Incident, and definitely would have become a storm chaser if she wasn't so attached to her home and family. (Also, when I say chosen with care: I mean that I had an epiphany that Alice would be a good lawyer and asked my dad with 0 other context what he thought the other kids' professions would be in the future. He spent like 3 days coming up with a well thought out answer for me, so I'm sticking to them!)

Unformatted Drawings:

[blerb-f1]

Immortals / Centuries Max Verstappen & NB!Reader

They were like a ghost in the pit of Formula One. Everyone saw them like a piece of furniture, a constant that stayed unchanging. That’s what they were - constant. No one spoke about them, no one photographed them. Like a big shared secret, even the media abstained from ever considering them an icon before their lens.

Yet, history showed them throughout the years. The 10th september 1961, Monza. Wolfgang von Trips collided with Jim Clark, passing away in the accident. They were there, seen directing medical health and other advisors, just barely visible in the background. 

That same Italian grand prix, nine years later, they were there again. The horrible day that took Jochen Rindt.

Some people considered them a bad omen yet that sentiment had died out over the time. Their body unchanging, their mind staying sharp. Having seen death for so many times, they had become an audible figure, greatly advocating for safety.  So when refueling had been reinstated in 1994, they were greatly angered and fearful for the drivers lives.

For the years they’d spent watching over the races, chatting with sponsors and consulting staff, they’d always stay with one team for a season. Be it a successful one or one on the decline - they didn’t judge in any way. They’d frequently chat with Niki Lauda, seeing him grow old over the years was rough but they were very glad to have him around. He was still a man of the old mindset, less caring about their origins and more about their personality. And money, after all, finance was his origin. 

That day in 1994, they sat with the Benetton mechanics. Benneton was a great team for them to be around, so young and riddled with fresh ideas and talent. Niki Lauda, a frequent yet unseen guest was visiting them again. He didn’t care too much for the team, just appearing for their old friend.

Slowly he settled onto one of the chairs they had placed around, letting out a sigh. “Y/N, truly am I jealous of you sometimes.”

Y/N laid their head to the side, grinning. Their currently very fashionable pinned up hair falling to the side. They were such a victim to trends, always following along or partaking. Trends were a good way to hide or disappear under.

“Aging sucks, you know that?” Niki cursed, sorting his iconic red hat.

With a chuckle, Y/N punched his shoulder. “Shouldn't you head back to Ferrari? You’re their advisor, not ours. And I bet you 20 Mark that nobody wants the enemy in their pit.”

He looked at her with an offended face. “This old man walks all the way to meet you and what do you do? Tell me to fuck off. Also ‘not ours’? You change allegiances faster than underwear.”

They shook their head. “Niki, you know how it is. I can’t stay long anywhere. Also, what are you talking about, old man? What are you, barely 45?”

“I look old compared to you, you know. This face doesn’t make me look like an icon of vitality.”

“Can’t you send Gerhard over? He’s more fun than you.���

Niki cursed again. Y/N would always tease him like that.

With a serious expression he turned towards them again. “That Schumacher..”

“Go on Niki, speak your words.”

“You are very annoying, did anyone tell you that?”

"Absolutely. Stirling Moss would always banter with me.”

He cursed again. “Anyway, that Schumacher guy. Has he got a long contract? Because I think we could use a driver like that. Jean isn’t the youngest anymore and Gerhard also could use a break, I think.”

“Want to steal our driver? No way in hell! Leave right now!”

Y/N jokingly lifted Niki out of his chair, taking one of the brooms to shoo him away. He came to a quick standstill, however. His face was serious again. “Y/N, i’ve known you awhile. Whenever you stay so glued to a team, something happens. What will-”

His words were cut off by them whistling a tune. The chain by Fleetwood Mac. 

He sighed, finally leaving.

Y/N took the chance to head into the garage, “What’s Upping” a few of the mechanics and sending Michael a nod. Finally they had reached their target, young reserve driver Jos Verstappen. Or half reserve driver, since Benneton originally had set their horses on JJ Lehto. He was just lacing up his boots, looking in the air with a concentrated expression. He knew this race would not be his to shine. This was the German GP of 1994, the homerace of driver number 1, Michael Schumacher.

They just padded his shoulder with a constrained expression. Jos knew, this meant something bad would happen. He hoped it just wouldn't hit him.

As destiny however had planned before his prayers, he was the one incurring it’s wrath. Refueling gone wrong, his body on fire. Y/N had stood in the pits watching, the flames reflecting on their eyes. Afterwards Niki had approached them again, his lips pressed into a stern line. “Will there be more of this crap, this season?”

Y/N looked up at him in pain. “You better steel your heart Lauda. Because I already did.”

Multiple smaller incidents but nothing could overshadow the pain left in everyone's hearts. The loss of Senna and Ratzenberger. Afterwards, Niki had reconsidered his friendship with Y/N. They were almost like a harbinger of doom. In some way it was comforting however. He knew they’d tell him if he were to get hurt.

In 1997, at one such Grand Prix he had seen them again. The hairs on his arms standing up, cold shivers running down his back. Y/N just comforted them. “Nothing bad this time, Niki. I’m here to meet our future.”

“Our future?” He asked. 

“Come and see” was their reply, leading the dazzled man up to the Tyrrel pit box. There, a soft baby's cry could be heard. A little red faced thing was there, wrapped into a soft blanket, looking very young.

“Hello Jos!” Y/N had exclaimed. “I brought a friend to see your youngling!”

The man had looked up in surprise at Niki Lauda standing there, staring at his son. “Uhm.” With a still unsure expression he slowly lifted the babe up. “Nice to meet you, Niki. This is my Son, MaxEmilian.”

Niki took the baby for a moment, just as unsure as the fresh baked father before handing it to Y/N. They gingerly held it, staring into those little, still so young looking eyes. Their eyes darting towards Jos for a moment before going back to little Max. “You will have a hard early life, little one. I wish I could help you but I cannot, always destined to be a bystander.”  They lifted one of the fingers which the baby seemed to follow. “But I know that you will prevail, proving yourself. If there’s anyone that can be considered our future, that’ll be you.”

5 years later at the Japanese Grand Prix, Y/N was seen sitting in the Minardi Hospitality. There they were playing with a little child, just a bit red faced than before. Max was pushing the vintage toy cars that Y/N had given them around. Niki stood beside them, judging those cars.

“Y/N, did you buy them in an antique shop?”

“Antique?” They were offended. “I only bought them a few years ago, I just knew I’d need them.”

“Define ‘a few years ago’. I know you and I count in very different ways.”

They seemed to ponder. “I remember buying them with Giles, back when he heard he was going to be a father. So uh.. Maybe thirty?”

“God Y/N…”

“Wait, that’s the wrong ones. Those i gave to Michael for Mick. These are others.”

Niki cursed again. “Y/N, please. Consider my blood pressure.”

“I think i remember. It’s only a few more years. It was Graham who had picked them out, you know. I don’t have taste in such things.”

He pinched the skin between his eyebrows, sighing loudly. “I really wish you would act reasonable once in your life.”

“I definitely did that once before at least.”

“Tell me then!”

“I’d rather not. The date might shock you.”

"Goddammit."

At that moment, two kinds of toy cars hit their leg. Little Max had encountered little Mick who was barely out and about. Both had combined their set of race cars, now pretending to play ‘Grand Prix’ with a route made out of tossed cable ties and napkins. Most likely, Max was actively playing cars and Mick was just pushing things around with a little toddler grin on his face. “Y/N, you’re in the way!” Little Max complained with an angry voice, letting his car repeatedly drive against their legs.

They looked up in surprise. “Sorry Max, I’m moving.”

Stepping to the side, Niki questioned again. “Y/N, why are you stuck to these kids?”

They sighed. “They’ll have it rough, in different ways.”

“Doesn't everybody?”

“Oh Niki, you just don’t know.”

“Well obviously, I can’t know if you don’t tell me.” Y/N tried to interject. “I know, I know. You can’t tell me. We’ve been through this spiel many times.

That day, Y/N had left for quite a while. They’d stayed at Jaguar when Niki was there, stayed with Red Bull for a moment. Then they disappeared from the scene, only returning in 2015. It was the first race of the season and there they stood, right before the Toro Rosso hospitality, requesting to go in. Some youngin checking passes looked at them in confusion. “Sorry, uhm… You can’t go in. That pass, it’s ancient, you know. Gotta update it.”

Y/N stared at their entrance pass in confusion. Bernie Ecclestone had given it to them right after his takeover. Full access to everything. “I can’t even scan it! And look at that paper. Where’d you even drag this old thing out from?”

Y/N was purely baffled, eyes trained on the young man ahead. Things really had changed. As they wanted to speak up, one of the older employees noticed them standing there. He was still there from the good old Minardi Days.

“Y/N, is that you?”

He cursed, approaching them. “Dang, people were right. You really don’t change.”

They chuckled while the youngin stared in confusion. 

“Go away, Peter. Maybe get this badge remade. Don’t worry about it, the FIA knows what’s going on. At least I  hope so?”

The youngin quickly rushed off. This whole thing was way too strange for him.

“So Y/N, what finally made you return? We’ve all turned old.” He said, patting his now well shaped stomach. 

“I heard Max is making his Grand Prix debut today. I came to greet him.”

The man chuckled. “Right. Him and little Mick were always your favourites. Come, I’ll lead you.”

The new pit had awed Y/N. So much technology, so many things with a different appearance becoming almost unrecognizable. Yet there in the back stood a person they were sure to always recognise. 

“Hello Max, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Max jumped up as he heard that voice. His face was full of surprise, eyes so wide. 

“Y-Y/N”

Said person smiled.

“It’s been ages! Where have you been?”

“Here and there, you know. Seeing more of the world.”

Max looked at them again, his eyes shaking. “It’s my F1 debut today, you know…”

“I know. That’s why I’m here.”

“Really? For me?” he looked so hopeful, deep lyiing hurt glittering in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Then-”

Before finishing he rushed away, returning with a little beat up Box. “Look!”

He opened the Box, revealing a few now very beat up toy boxes and letters.

“Thank you for these, Y/N. They helped me stay true to my goal. Keeping my focus.”

His eyes were shaking now, watering. Y/N just spread their arms in response, cradling him like a child. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d get here, one way or another. And now look at you? That young and in a league with all these old guys.”

Max sniffled, holding her tightly. “Mom told me not to go with unknown adults.”

“What, I’m definitely a trusted adult.”

Back at the beginning of 2018, Y/N had left the Red Bull Team to stay with Mercedes. Max had understood, knowing Y/N had their reasons to do things. Niki had cursed when he saw them again.

“I really look like your grandfather now.”

He sighed, sitting down again. “I’m old and tired, Y/N.”

They smiled sadly. “I’m aware.”

His face turned sad as well. “Your prophecies were so true again. I sometimes wish you’d use them in a different way. Little Max and Mick would both experience hardship.”

Y/N had their lips pulled into a thin line again. Niki looked at her with an angry expression. “I know you well enough, seeing you appear means something will happen here.”

He huffed. “This time I’m ahead of you. I know I’m not well. My body…It’s reached its limit, hasn’t it? I’ve defied fate so many times but everyone got their limit.”

Y/N patted the almost 70 year old man on the shoulder. Their smile turned more comforting. “Could you greet Wolfgang for me? Tell him that I still sing that little song he taught me?”

“Scheiße, what do you think? That i’m the social services? Do that yourself! I refuse. You can do that on the day fate picks you up.”

That was the last time they had spoken.

Niki passed away in 2019. That was the first and only time Max Verstappen had seen them the cry. The all so stoic Y/N had broken down, crying on his shoulder. Max, unsure of what to do, patted their back like you’d do to a dog. 

When 2021 came, Y/N was back to mad cheering. Max was Champion after all!

The party was mad. Everyone was crying, sniffling and drinking. Kelly had brought Penelope with her who was like a little sun in the restaurant. Max himself was shining just as much, lifting his trophy repeatedly and as much as he could lift the alcohol anyone was willing to pour him. 

When night came and Penelope was tired, Kelly had carried her outside, beckoning Y/N to follow her.

Her face looked serious as she looked at them. “What are you, Y/N?”

They tilted their head again. “What do you mean, Kelly?”

“I remember you, though others apparently don’t. Or they do and just accept you without a second thought. When dad took me to the races, I saw you there. You are the same as you were back them. Your hair’s different but that’s it.”

Y/N hummed. It was Wolfgang’s Melody.

Kelly frowned when no answer was coming. “Then at least tell me this, will you hurt any of us?”

“Hurt?” Y/N looked on, offended. “I’ve never hurt a fly.”

“Then…” Kelly continued. “Why are you here?”

Y/N pondered before fishing around their pockets. “I’m immortal. I am Fate. Make of that what you will.” They then produced a little toy car, just of the same kind as Max had gotten years ago. “Give this to P once she’s awake, will you?”

Kelly just nodded. Y/N left.

Max missed them dearly. After his win, nothing of Y/N could be seen or heard. He’d asked the old mechanics and they all said the same to him. “They’ll appear when they want to.”

That’s how Max grew older and older, never seeing them again. 

Slowly but surely the mysterious figure escaped from the back of his mind, not of importance to his successful life. 

Everything crashed down when his father passed away. Max started spiraling, his entire life was planned and decided by Jos. How exactly should he go on now? 

At the funeral, he saw them. Approaching with a delicate umbrella over their head, dressed in vintage funeral gear.

Max stared in shock, never expecting to see them again. 

Y/N stared at the fresh grave, placing down a little wreath of flowers. “Jos, I really wish I could punch you. But alas, I can’t. Fate caught you as well.”

Max hesitated, staring at them. Instead of speaking, Y/N just engulfed him into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, Max. I can’t interfere with your life much more. I wish I could but this is beyond me.”

From there, he once again didn’t see them again. Years passed, Seasons changed. His hair grew gray, his skin got wrinkly and his body heavy.

With a nice summer day rolling around he laid in his bed, his grandchildren had just left the room, window open and curtain fluttering. Max stared at the shaking curtain, once again getting surprised by a voice. “Hello Max.”

He slowly turned to the side, spotting Y/N sitting on the chair that had just been sat on by Penelope. They were dressed like he remembered during his childhood, their face sad.

“Hello, Y/N.” His voice was silent, weak. 

“Has my time come?”

A sniffle rang out as Y/N leaned forward to touch his hand.

“Yes.”

He nodded. “I see.”

The silence was surprisingly comfortable. “Can you tell me now, what you are? I’m about to die anyway so…”

Y/N chuckled. “Always the smart boy, you were.”

They got up, their appearance changing to something ancestral. “I’m immortal. You could also call me Fate.”

“Fate…” Max rolled the words around on his tongue. “So will I see you in the afterlife?”

Y/N lowered their eyelashes. “If Destiny decides to release me from my duties, possibly. I cannot see my own path. Will you greet Niki for me?”

Max nodded again, folding his hands.

“I will. It was great to see you again.”

Akin to a sigh, Y/N saw his soul depart. With a tear running down their face they settled back onto the chair. 

“I knew you’d be great. I just knew…”

And you're a cherry blossom

You're about to bloom

You look so pretty, but you're gone so soon

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Find more at my Masterlist!

[open-hearth-rpg]

#RPGCovers Week NIne Stormbringer (1981) Frank Brunner

In the 1970s and 80s, to my kid eye Michael Whalen’s covers were the absolute best. He was the first artist I actually remember looking to find their name. His Elric series in particular, for me, struck me as the height for a certain kind of high fantasy. So when the first Elric rpg dropped in 1981, it had a high bar. 

And Stormbringer vaulted it, for me at least. The cover is striking an simple, dominated by reds, silvers, and blacks with the shocking white of Elric’s face and hair contrasting. I knew Brunner’s work from Doctor Strange, Creepy, Howard the Duck, and Warp! His style reminded me of Gene Colon and Gene Day. It’s simple and well crafted. Eventually Brunner would become the lead character designer for Fox’s X-Men cartoon series.

It’s a very different look from any other rpg item at the time. It chooses to focus on a still image of an iconic face, rather than a tableau which might illustrate the world or the kinds of things players could aspire to. 

The cover I picked is from the box, but one of the great things for the game is the use of Brunner’s images throughout. The core book has an entirely different, full figure image done in red ink. Then the various chapters have large Brunner black & white images as a frontispiece. (Including classic Sword & Sorcery unclothed ladies). The chapter took that larger illustration and cut out bits as interior images. It’s a cheap way to go, but in this case it actually pulls the content together. 

[jennyboom21]

Dianna Agron is running late — she’s stuck on the subway. I have no problem believing this because I am on the exact same train a few cars away, as we learn when she sends me a heads-up text. My phone slowly receives a selfie of Agron waving through a grainy train window, face curtained by long light-brown hair, along with another message about how tickled she is that we’re sharing a classic New York experience. And it’s one we continue when we finally make it to The Odeon, the iconic Tribeca bistro. “It's been a staple since the 1980s, which is what I love about this place,” she says in her lilting voice as we mull over the menu. “This is a place that was happening when I was born and didn't even know that it would be waiting for me when I moved to New York City.” We get two dirty martinis and a plate of fries before gleefully cheering to being in our 30s. “I love this time, though,” she adds.

Agron has been thinking a lot about her 30s, and not just because we’re meeting up two weeks before her 37th birthday. Her new movie, Clock, out now on Hulu, is a sci-fi horror film that explores the immense societal pressures women, in particular those without children, face in that decade of their lives. But the film’s messages about making your own choices also resonate within the arc of her career. Agron spent six seasons on the pop culture juggernaut that was Glee — and enduring the intense public scrutiny that came with it — before more recently finding acclaim with a string of indie movies like Shiva Baby and Novitiate. With Clock, Agron pushed herself again. There are big action scenes (hanging from cliffs, elbow-deep gore), as well as dark emotional depths (involving painful family secrets coming to life). “Collected experience really does add up,” she says. “And I think that the life I've lived the last 10 years in some ways has been more magnificent and more challenging than my more formative years.”

Lanvin coat, SKIMS bra, Talent’s own trousers, Pamela Love earrings

Agron never thought she’d try her hand at horror, but the Clock script hit too close to home to resist. She plays Ella, a 30-something who doesn’t want kids but eventually gives into the pressure of prying family and friends and enrolls in an experimental clinical trial, under the leadership of Dr. Simmons (Melora Hardin), that promises to help women who don’t experience having a biological clock. “The moment I turned 30,” Agron says, “the amount of questions that I felt were far too personal — and from truly everyone — just intensified year by year.”

Even for an actor who came up in the Perez Hilton era of celebrity blogging and is used to skirting prying questions, Agron still finds herself surprised sometimes. Just last year, she was on a red carpet at the Tribeca Film Festival promoting the sci-fi drama Acidman when a journalist asked her out of the blue if her mother’s name, Mary, would be “top of the list” for her. “I truly had no idea what she was talking about, so I asked for clarification and she said, ‘The top of your baby list,’” Agron says. “I said, with all of the kindness, ‘You have no idea what my personal journey is. And I'm quite surprised that you asked me that at my workplace when I'm here to discuss a film that I'm in.’” The message didn’t land. “She had no remorse. She just bopped along to the next question.”

Michael Kors Collection clothing and belt, Agmes earrings

Clock only took on more meaning throughout production. Agron was in Texas shooting the last day of principal photography when the draft Supreme Court opinion overturning Roe v. Wade leaked. “It did not feel good, that's for sure,” she says. “But then felt in some ways good that we were making [a movie that speaks] to some of the perils of being a woman and making choices that are more aligned with your own sense of self, as opposed to making choices for other people.” She dips a fry into one of the many condiments we’ve ordered. “All it takes is a film or a piece of journalism [for people] to open their eyes to different experiences that they could never imagine for themselves and have no personal touch points for. As a woman and one who very much loves women and loves the immense and enormous abilities that we have to carry so much, I wish that we had to carry less.”

When writer-director Alexis Jacknow was looking to cast Ella, she knew what she wanted: “It was very important to me that that character just already have a natural, grounded nature, a gravitas to her.” And she knew right away after meeting her that Agron could deliver. “There was absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do,” Jacknow says. “She pushed me, and there was just no hesitation on her part. She showed up every single day, 110%, and gave us everything.”

That is not an exaggeration. During one scene, Ella cracks open eggs into a frying pan and begins to eat them raw with a spoon. Jacknow didn’t want anyone to flaunt food safety guidelines, but Agron thought the only way to sell the scene was to actually do it. “Beef tartare, a whiskey sour,” Agron says, listing all the indulgences with raw ingredients she already enjoys. (There are reasons those are safer than raw eggs, but just go with it.) Jacknow proposed a compromise: Agron could put the raw eggs in her mouth as long as she spat them instead of swallowing. Agron agreed — or at least pretended to. “I winked at our [director of photography] and motioned at him like, ‘Don’t cut,’” she says, laughing. “I go to pick up the egg, I swallow it and go to take another bite. And I just hear, ‘Dianna, what the f*ck?!’”

Dries Van Noten clothing, Khiry earrings

Agron hasn’t always felt such autonomy in her career. When she was in her early twenties, she booked a role in a “big studio film” that, though ultimately a positive experience, involved an eye-opening screen test. “It was like, ‘We don’t like her hair like that, we need her to be more girly. We don’t like those clothes,’” she recalls. “I kept getting moved off set, changed, put back on stage, taken off again. I didn’t feel that I had any say in the matter, even if I had suggested something nicely. I was just a product at that point.”

Glee did not exactly help things. Agron says she was the last person cast for the show and describes getting the job as nothing short of fate. She grew up watching musicals with her mother in hotels on account of her father’s job as a manager at Hyatt. “Look, I moved to Los Angeles and I set out to find a musical. They were my absolute bread and butter. I told anybody that would listen to me, ‘I really want to do a musical,’” she says. “And [agents] were like, ‘No, try to be on Broadway.’ I just had this staunch faith that I was meant to be in Los Angeles and I would find a musical. And then it happened.”

But while she credits the show with changing her life, the show’s explosive popularity tested her boundaries. “There was a moment in time where there was not only a lack of acknowledgement in respect to personal space, there have been times where I've been put in a headlock and kissed on a plane. There have been times where mothers were grabbing you by the arm to meet and take a photo with their child,” Agron says. “There were so many personal attacks in a way that are just truly not what you do to a human. That feels specific to that time and that intensity of the feelings that people were feeling watching the show.”

So she moved to New York in 2016, eager to escape Los Angeles and its “predatory nature of people with lenses down there that just doesn’t exist in the same way in other places.” For a few years, she split her time between London — from 2016 to 2020, Agron was married to Winston Marshall of British folk-rock group Mumford & Sons — but now calls New York “my only home.” “Following my personal life is really not going to yield anything that interesting,” Agron says of public attention. And it’s true, the few times I tactfully (I hope) bring up topics that might lead Agron to open up about other aspects of her personal life, she gently deflects them. It’s clear she’s figured out a way to maintain her privacy while still being incredibly personal in the context of her work.

In New York, she’s able to follow her muse more freely. She’s reconnected with music through a string of residencies at the famed Café Carlyle, where she’s performed jazz standards and ‘60s covers. She served as a producer on Acidman and would like to do more behind-the-scenes work. And she’s relishing the chance to be a “waving the Jewish flag” kind of actor, choosing projects like Shiva Baby and As They Made Us that let her honor and explore her heritage. “I went to Jewish weekend school and Wednesday school for my entire upbringing up until my Bat Mitzvah and spent a lot of time with Holocaust survivors,” she says. “So it was a weird experience to then have many people say [in Hollywood], ‘You don’t look Jewish.’ It is weird to have somebody deny you your own personal experience.”

Next, she’ll make her return to television with The Chosen One, a multilingual adaptation of Mark Millar’s American Jesus comic book that follows a 12-year-old boy who gains the biblical powers of Jesus after a freak accident. She’s bonded with the younger actors on the show who have asked her for career advice — a full-circle moment for the now bonafide industry veteran. They’ve even watched Glee and marveled to Agron about how young she looks and seems. Her response? “I am!” she says, laughing.

By this point, our martini glasses have long been empty. Neither of us want to brave the train again, so Agron walks me up the street and, like a true New Yorker, gives me directions with a McNally Jackson tote slung over her shoulder. She gives me a hug, then turns to head deeper into Tribeca, forging a path all of her own.

[haepii]

[7:45 PM, Christmas Eve] sfw. WC: 794. Secret Santa for @misakiise or @loeycity ! Merry Christmas!

The deep smell of pine, and tinsel filled your nostrils, as you began to sway to the jazz christmas music playing softly from the other room, mingled with laughs from the other room. The fireplace and Christmas tree lights casted you both in a warm glow. You could feel the soft cotton of Boyfriend!Jaehyun’s light blue button down shirt that was previously covered by his jacket.

You felt his hands roam up your back, and felt his hand bump the big red bow that was at the back of your dress. The dress itself was short, with a deep-v back and a high neckline in the front, with puff sleeves, and a straight-flair skirt with a big red bow at the back. You wore your black heels and tan thermal stockings to complete the look. Your hair is blown out and voluminous, which you’d topped off with a red lip. Jaehyun would be lying if he didn’t think you looked perfect.

Wine glass in one hand, his hand in your other, he raised his arm and spun you slightly to the slow and mellow beat of Michael Bublé’s iconic christmas album. You let out a short laugh, as he swayed with you against his chest, your wine glass pressed to your lips as you took a sip.

The song ended, and the Christmas music seemed to slow down, as did your swaying together, your back pressed to his chest as he took a sip of his own wine. “What do you think?”

“I think that your family is very christmas-orientated.” You let out a short chuckle, your eyes focusing on the different Christmas ornaments. In no way was their Christmas tree themed, or organised. It was a chaotic mess of different hues, and handmade ornaments from fine glass to… well, the ones a child would bring home from kindergarten. “Oh my God… did you make that?”

“Make what?” He asks, as he moves his wine glass from his lips and follows your gaze, as you point at it. He lets out a small chuckle as he finally catches on.

“That thing!” You exclaim with a short laugh, as you took ahold of the large, and somewhat homely ornament.

“Excuse me?” He feigned offence as you held up the Christmas ornament by the ribbon.

You turned to give him a look, as he looked at it and then at you like he was jokingly offended, moving his free hand from your hip to his heart. “You know what I’m talking about… it’s a demonic snowman!”

“It’s a show of my childhood craftsmanship.” He lets out, in a tone that sounded offended but based off of his facial expression it was clear he was holding in a laugh, as he looked at it. Now that he really thought about it, the ornament didn’t really look like a snowman. Ultimately it was just pieces of coloured pasta stuck to poorly painted cardboard with no real artistic vision in the first place.

“Totally… a demonic penne painting of a snowman on a ribbon is a true show of craftsmanship.” You nodded, holding in your own laugh, as you held it up for him to view, downing the rest of your wine in one go.

“Childhood craftsmanship, baby.” He hummed into your neck, planting kisses there to which you squirmed in his hold, as he took the ornament from your hands and placed it back on the tree before he spun you around to face him again. “That’s a very important detail.”

“Sure it is…” You giggled, as you jerked your head towards where it hung on the tree. “If it looks like that!”

“I’ll have you know, it was a standout in my kindergarten class.” He smirks with pride as the two of you danced to the Christmas jazz that had once again picked up the pace. You hadn’t realised where he was leading you to the doorway of the formal living room.

“I’m one-hundred percent sure it was.” You let out a small laugh as he placed his own empty wine glass on the mantle by the door, trapping you between the doorframe and himself. He held one hand on your hip, as he took your empty wine glass with the other hand, placing it next to his own on the mantle. “What…?”

You frowned slightly at his triumphant expression. He only smiled even wider like the Cheshire Cat and nudged his head upwards slightly. Your eyes followed to where he looked, finding the small sprig of green leaves and white blooms hung overhead. It was cast in the same warm glow of the room and you could swear your face turned as red as the wine you’d just gulped down. “Oh… Smooth, Jeong. Real smooth…”

[droughtofapathy]

The Gilded Age's Broadway Divas: Caroline "Lina" Schermerhorn Astor (Donna Murphy)

A queen among her people, Mrs. Astor rules over New York high society, and spends the show being challenged by New Money Bertha Russell at every turn.

Two-time Tony winner Donna Murphy is one of Broadway's greatest Divas. Though most recognize her as the voice of Disney's Mother Gothel in Rapunzel, her voice is better known to me personally as one of my earliest gay awakenings for her audiobook performance of Ruby Holler, but that's a separate story. One of Sondheim's most beloved interpreters, Donna has such an expansive repertoire that limiting myself proved damn near impossible. Her Tonys for Best Actress in a Musical were in 1994 (Passion) and 1996 (The King and I) and I will forgive her for the later despite my documented hatred of that musical.

Other sumptuous performances include: The Mystery of Edwin Drood (Ensemble, later Drood), Wonderful Town (Ruth), Hello Dolly! (Bette Midler's Tuesday night alternative and superior performer in every way), and Encores! Dear World (my #1 theatre experience of 2023). With the later two, Donna is well on her way to achieving the Jerry Herman trifecta. Someone mount a production of Mame starring Donna Murphy as Mame.

#1: "Could I Leave You?" Follies - The Stephen Sondheim 80th Birthday Concert (2010)

Many a Diva has taken on this song, but no one can come close to the rapturous performance Donna Murphy gives during the iconic Ladies in Red segment of the Sondheim 80th birthday concert. This video right here is the reason I am the Sondheim woman that I am. There have been many women who have played Phyllis over the years, and I've fallen a little in love with all of them (Jan Maxwell, my beloved), but Donna is everything.

Surrounded by five other iconic Divas dressed in red, Donna shows that her acting choices whilst singing remain unmatched. The controlled start, the rapid devolution, the rage in that final word. And the strands of hair that will not stay out of her face. I am obsessed. The reactions of the other women (note Patti LuPone's glee and Marin Mazzie, dear friend and Passion co-star's bursting pride) say it all. The entire concert is one marvel after another. Do yourself a favor and watch it.

I consider this song one of Sondheim's greatest works (Send in the Clowns, eat your heart out...but also...Donna did that at the 90th birthday concert, so there's that too).

#2: "Hit Me With a Hot Note," a benefit for Fran Liebergall (2015) and What About Joan (2001)

I couldn't decide which version to post, so you get both. Congratulations. This song showcases Mrs. Astor's wild side as Donna delves into growls, shimmies, shakes, and belts. "Hit Me with a Hot Note" is a Duke Ellington song that appeared on Broadway in Jelly's Last Jam (which will receive an Encores! production this spring). I never thought a white woman could scat, but I'm not mad about it.

The first video is a concert benefit for Fran Liebergall in 2015. The second is from a short-lived tv series in the early 2000s where Donna plays Ruby Stern, a smart and staid doctor who has a dream of appearing on Broadway. Apparently, the producers of the show were totally unaware that two-time Tony winner for Leading Actress in a Musical Donna Murphy could sing. I'm just as shocked by that as you are.

#3: "Surabaya Johnny," LoveMusik (2007)

Mrs. Astor is one of many real-life historical figures on Donna Murphy's acting resume. Another real-life figure is that of Lotte Lenya, an Austrian-American actress and singer best known for her work/marriage with Kurt Weill. LoveMusik explores that relationship. Lotte Lenya had a distinctive voice, and here Donna transforms her own signature voice to match Lenya's.

LoveMusik received mixed reviews, but garnered four Tony nominations for Best Musical, and Best Leading Actors for Donna and for leading man Michael Cerveris, The Gilded Age's Mr. Watson.

Donna has truly perfected the way to break down during a song.

#4: "The Story of Lucy and Jessie," Follies (2007)

Prior to the Sondheim 80th, Donna played Phyllis Rogers Stone in the 2007 Encores! production of Follies (alongside Christine Baranski). This was considered her triumphant return to the New York stage following an unsteady attendance record in the early 2000s owing to a long battle with vocal hemorrhaging (running concurrently with multiple miscarriages). Her turn as the jaded former Follies girl was nothing short of sublime. In those days, Encores! concerts weren't remotely the fully choreographed shows they are now. Donna, who describes herself as a "singer who moves well," proves that in spades.

To my everlasting devastation, this clip omits the opening verse, but I think her legs more than make up for it. The little glove removal moment is a nod to an alternate number that has been used in place of this one depending on the production. For singers who are not as dance-capable, "Ah, But Underneath" offers up a sensational strip tease, and I, for one, would have liked to see that too, even if Lucy and Jessie is a better number.

#5: "Loving You," Passion (1994)

Though her riveting portrayal of a chronical ill woman who seduces a soldier in mid-19th century Italy earned Donna her first Tony, it was not a well-received show. Audiences disgusted by the obsessive and unattractive Fosca would cheer when she collapsed onstage every night. They couldn't fathom how Giorgio (Jere Shea) would leave his affair with the beautiful Clara (Marin Mazzie, who appears totally nude for the opening number) for a sicky woman like Fosca. Since then, like most Sondheim shows, we have come to appreciate the brilliance of the story, the score, and the actors with time.

Donna's immersion into this role is the stuff of Broadway legend. This song in particular, though simple in melody and lyrics, carries such deep emotion, and the way she sings as if every note pains her just ruins me. Her dramatic range cannot be praised enough. The entire proshot can be found HERE, and I cannot recommend it enough.

Story time: a few years ago I bid on the original lobby board that hung inside the theater, and I am now a proud owner of a piece of history. It stands in my living room and is nearly as tall as I am. It is my most treasured possession.

Bonus: For a more comprehensive of all things Donna Murphy, please enjoy this playlist curated by @princesspufferr. And if anyone wants a bootleg of Dear World, I've got you covered.

LINK TO MASTERPOST

[styleofdiamandis]

PHOTOSHOOT: TOKION FACTORY

Back in December 2010, Marina (and the Diamonds) was photographed by JUCO for Japanese culture magazine Tokion Factory!

All of the colorful looks were styled by JAK. Makeup by Amy Chance and hair by John Blanie.

The first set of photos see Marina donning a beautifully crafted intricate sequin mini dress with Christmas sweater-themed motifs from Ashish's Fall/Winter 2009 runway show.

The black feather and gold chain bracelet, she wears on her right wrist, is by Candace Ang.

For her second look, Marina wore a purple sheer chiffon blouse with ruffled details, and pleated and gathered mini skirt seen in OLIMA's Fall/Winter 2010 debut colleciton!

Los Angeles-based iconic milliner Gladys Tamez Millinery created Marina's green felt hair beret...

...while Jimmy Choo is the mastermind behind these sexy Magnum yellow python and mesh sandals.

Next up, Marina poses in a black satin dress which she crowned with a golden metal spike visor from Ella Zahlan's "Michael Jackson" collection!

The Greek-Welsh beauty also wore a golden fringe necklace by Iosselliani, similar pictured to the one above!

Marina stuns in a black velvet mini dress with glass crosses all over from iconic designer Jeremy Scott's Fall/Winter 2010 collection which she paired with a Gladys Tamez Millinery Fall/Winter 2010 feather fascinator.

For the penultimate look, Marina takes a stance in Brian Lichtenberg faux denim print bodysuit with padded shoulders. Brian's designs are also loved by other singers like Lady Gaga, Beyoncé and Katy Perry.

Her mustard-yellow high-waisted pants from emerging designer Katie Ermilio's 2009 debut collection!

I love mismatched earrings and Marina's definitely fit the bill here!

She paired a single long chain fringe earring by Iosselliani with a white spike drop earring by former jewerly brand Kites & Metal.

Marina completed her colorful look with these Ashish Spring/Summer 2010 metallic gold leather woven platform wedges!

For the final look, Marina is sporting a bodysuit version of this Falguni Shane Peacock Fall/Winter 2010 runway look which was worn with OLIMA Fall/Winter 2010 black wool pleated mini skirt.

Marina's fringe metal necklace with star-shaped crystals on top is yet another beauty signed by Iosselliani!

Lastly, she re-wore her Candace Ang feather bracelet and multiple rings by Han Cholo including his sterling silver snake ring with red stone in the center ($270.00).