#rosé and her groupies

[heyrosenali]

“who is the trade of the season”

[diana-prince-s]

don’t apologize!! your verses are yours to control and they wouldn’t be authentic if you didn’t. i am obsessed with your smut though so id love to see some maybe in and no one likes to be alone because that was my rosnali intro :) and has stayed in the spank bank since

first of all, I'm so happy for you because I really popped off with that 4,000 words of smut. can I ever top it? who knows

second of all, a little secret is that I had planned a follow up chapter/check in for that story and never wrote it, so I'm gonna try and adapt it into something smutty for you on the fly. I have some ~weird experiences~ with public sex so I can't say that I live for it, but hopefully this works and people are into it. let me know.

---

"Hey, bartender, can I get my usual?"

Her voice is a little breathless and a little terse, and normally Denali would write this kind of customer off as rude and give them a drink with less alcohol than usual -- but a smile comes to her lips and she reaches for a tall glass that she fills with ice water.

She turns around and puts the glass on the bar top before looking up at Rosé. "You're late."

"Yeah." Rosé smiles sheepishly. "Slept through my alarm and the subway was late."

Rosé brings the glass to her lips and drinks it more quickly than usual. Denali watches the undulations of her throat as she does, the way her lips dance delicately on the cold glass. She swallows thickly.

"Jan and Lagoona are in the dressing room," Denali says.

Their set is in ten minutes, and Rosé really is cutting it closer than she ever has before. Denali holds her hand out and waits until Rosé hands her the glass, then deposits it in the sink for cleaning. Rosé wipes her mouth on the back of her hand -- god, Denali thinks that's sexy, and then she wonders what's wrong with her tonight because she usually doesn't get this worked up while at DeLuxe. This certainly isn't the first time Rosé has performed here since they first slept together; but tonight Rosé is wearing a suggestion of a dress in silver and her hair is curled just right, and maybe Denali wants to let loose and appreciate her girlfriend a little more in public.

Rosé taps her hand on the bar, and Denali reaches over and holds it. "I should probably head back there."

"Good luck. Don't pay too much attention to your little groupies in the front row," Denali says, nodding her head towards the dance floor where she knows fawning Stephanie's Child fans are waiting.

"I've only got eyes for you, baby." Rosé makes her point clear by pointedly ignoring the looks she's getting from other women across the bar. Instead, she squeezes Denali's hand and starts to pull away.

But Denali pulls her right back. "Hey." She pushes up on the bar and presses her lips to Rosé's, not even mindful of the little bit of gloss on them. Her fingers come to rest on the sharpest part of Rosé's jaw. Her tongue dances over the swell of Rosé's bottom lip and then Rosé's mouth parts, just a little, and she flicks it over Rosé's tongue and teeth. Their lips come apart with a pop. Denali smiles and sends Rosé, a little dazed from the kiss, on her way with a wink.

The set is fun to listen to from the back of the bar. Stephanie's Child is a talented group, and since they've started their monthly shows at DeLuxe, they haven't disappointed. Olivia is happy with the turn out on Stephanie's Child nights, and Denali and the other bartenders are happy with the money spent on drinks and tips. Something is different tonight, though, because Denali feels like she's filled more drinks than she ever has during one set. Despite her efforts, and the efforts of Joey and their new hire Lala, the bar is still swamped until the last song, when the entire crowd rushes to the dance floor to get their final glimpse of this up-and-coming girl group.

After the last note sung by Jan, Denali looks up and makes eye contact with Rosé -- and somehow she's turned on just by that smoldering, post-show look that Rosé gets when she's exhilarated. Denali goes a little weak in her knees. Thankfully, Olivia gives her a break, stepping in to help Joey and Lala. Denali goes to the back and winds through the hallway to the dressing room.

Jan's laugh carries through the thick wooden door, a testament to the woman's vocal abilities. Denali pushes in to find Lagoona stretched out on the dressing room sofa, one shoe flung across the room, the other in her hand. It goes flying past Denali's head, and Denali ducks just in time. Jan's hand flies over her mouth and she laughs again.

Lagoona jumps up from the sofa. "I am so sorry, Nali."

"That's all right, Goona," Denali says. She wraps an arm around Lagoona's shoulder and looks around. "Where's Rosie?"

Jan shrugs and points to the clothing rack that blocks half the dressing room from sight. "Dunno what she's doing, though."

Denali follows the line of Jan's hand for a moment and then looks back at the other two-thirds of Stephanie's Child. "You all did great, as usual. Go get your drinks from the bar, on us."

Jan bounces on the balls of her feet and tugs Lagoona towards the door. "You ready to get turnt, Goona?"

Lagoona pulls on a more comfortable-looking pair of booties. "I might be getting a little old for turnt..."

"You're barely thirty, Goons," Jan says, and she pulls the door closed behind them so Denali can't hear what else is said.

It's quiet in the dressing room, but for the bass thumping through the walls. Denali takes a few steps towards the clothing rack. "Rosie?" She peeks around the side, and her jaw drops a little at the sight.

Rosé's neck is contorted in an awkward position as she attempts to hold up the halter top of her dress with her chin, while her hands hold the two sides of the tie behind her neck. When she notices Denali, she drops one side and her head lifts up, which sends half of the front of her dress down to her torso. Her left breast expose, Rosé freezes and a blush rises in her cheeks.

"Okay, I know I look stupid, but hear me out," Rosé says. Denali puts her hands on her hips and tries to bite back the laugh that's on her lips. "I tied this too tight and it was pulling on my neck during the set and it hurt, and I tried to get it myself because I'm stubborn-- I know I'm stubborn, okay, you've told me enough-- and then I couldn't and I didn't want to ask Jan or Lagoona."

Denali laughs, now, and Rosé frowns. "I'm sorry." She holds her hands up in apology. "You're just... remember when I thought you were some disaffected fuckboy?"

Rosé raises an eyebrow and drops her hand so both sides of the dress are fallen. "You say that like I'm not," she whines.

"You're such a dork." Denali takes a step forward and plays with the hanging strips of fabric. Rosé's breasts nearly brush against the front of her thin white t-shirt.

"I miss the days when you thought I was aloof and sexy."

"You may not be aloof," Denali says, "but I do still think you're sexy." She presses her hands against Rosé's waist and trails them up to her breasts, palms them, their weight making her heart beat quickly.

Rosé smiles up at her devilishly. "Hm. I think I get where this is going."

She dips her head a little and catches Denali in a kiss, slowly backing her into the dressing room wall. Denali thumps gently against it and she gasps into Rosé's mouth. Normally, she likes to push back, give a little control, take a little control; but normally she wouldn't make out with her girlfriend at her place of work, and she's feeling a little anxious, so she lets Rosé lead. Rosé kisses down the tendons in her neck, mouthing at her collarbone and sucking a mark just below it. Denali, meanwhile, slides Rosé's almost non-existent dress lower in the back so her fingertips reach the top of her ass.

Rosé must sense her hesitation, because she takes her lips from Denali's skin and looks up at her. "You okay with this?"

Denali swallows and fights the mounting anxiety, lets the arousal wash over her. "Yeah, I think..."

Rosé stands up a little straighter. "We don't have to do this here. We can wait until your shift is over."

But Rosé's breasts are out and they look so -- fuck, they're everything to Denali, and she's so worked up already that she doesn't think she can go back out there without something.

"I want you," Denali says. "Right now."

Rosé smirks. "Okay." She presses against Denali again so she's tight against the wall, and Denali can feel all of her, every joint and muscle, every bit of her breasts. "You want me to take care of you, baby?"

Denali hums.

Rosé takes hold of Denali's ponytail and pulls her head to the side. "You want me to fuck you here, where someone could walk in, because you just can't wait?"

"Yes," Denali says, and it's so breathy Denali isn't sure it's real.

But Rosé tugs her hair harder and wraps her lips around Denali's ear and her other hand starts working on the button at Denali's waist. Despite the proximity, Denali gets her hand between them and helps her, and then her pants are on the floor and her underwear is shoved to the side in favor of Rosé's three fingers fucking into her. It's so fast and rough, and Denali is full so quickly that she has to arch her back. It works in Rosé's favor, because she gets more of Denali's neck and chest exposed to kiss and suck on.

"Fuck, you always feel so good, Nali." Rosé's fingers pump hard and fast despite the angle, and then they press up and forward while the heel of her hand brushes Denali's clit. Denali bucks her hips, desperate to get off like this, desperate to come with her girlfriend's breath in her ear. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

Denali pants and her face screws up in a pout. She's not close enough. "I need-- babe, I need your mouth."

Rosé pulls back enough that she can look into Denali's eyes, and her smile is dangerous. Her fingers slow and stop. She pulls them out and brings them to Denali's mouth. Denali sucks.

"I need you to be quick, okay?" Rosé says. "They're gonna wonder where we are..."

She drops her her knees, her dress all but forgotten on her body, and she helps one of Denali's legs out of her pants and underwear. Denali hooks her leg over Rosé's shoulder while Rosé's mouth finds her clit quickly and she begins sucking, unforgiving with the pace but gentle, just the way Denali likes. Denali rocks her hips along, almost using Rosé's face to get off. Her fingers tangle in Rosé's curls so she can have more leverage, her other hand reaches to grasp the clothing rack beside her for stability.

"God, Rosé, don't stop. Fuck." She feels her orgasm building, quicker now than before, and she speeds up her hips. Rosé just lets Denali use her, and it somehow makes it even hotter, and then Denali comes on Rosé's tongue.

Rosé's hands are at her hips to hold her up while she finishes, and when she comes down Rosé gets off the floor. She makes eye contact with Denali and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand for the second time that night -- of course Denali thought it was hot before when it reminds her of this. Then Rosé kisses her gently.

"I think we should get back out there," she says.

Denali pouts. "But-- look at you." Her eyes scan Rosé's body, from the way her dress has ridden up and her lacy thong is exposed, to her breasts that Denali has wanted to get her mouth on this whole time, to her wrecked makeup that Denali wants to kiss away more.

Rosé shrugs. "There's time for me, later."

Denali raises an eyebrow. "You really want to wait, after that?"

Rosé purses her lips but shakes her head. Satisfied, Denali takes Rosé's hand and leads her around the clothing rack, over by the sofa. She flicks the lock on the door, then turns Rosé around by her hips and bends her over the arm of the sofa.

"God, Denali--"

Denali runs her hands over Rosé's ass, up her back and around her shoulders, to her breasts. She palms them, and Rosé moans.

"Careful, babe," Denali says as she brings one hand back and toys with the entrance of Rosé's cunt. "You can't be too loud."

[missymurphy1985]

The Groupie (part four)

Warning - smut

This is set in 2006/7, and Cillian has no children. Reader is a fan, has been since day one and is a plus size girl. I myself am a UK size 16, so I hope I don't offend anyone with my story (I'm writing about my own insecurities a little here so be kind please).

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06

You woke the following morning with a definite hangover. The girls had pestered you all night, asking questions, but you'd ignored them. You weren't the kind of girl to kiss and tell, and honestly you just wanted to forget it all happened.

While you were rubbing your eyes, Ella eased into your room with a water and a coffee and sat on the end of your bed.

"Listen.. don't be mad..." She started, placing the drinks on your bedside table before sitting back down.

"Okay...."

"Promise me?"

"Ugh... Okay I promise I won't be mad."

"You're going for lunch today."

"Why would I be mad about going for lunch?"

"Because of who you're having lunch with." You raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly.

"Ella, if you're setting me up on another blind date I'm not interested..."

"It isn't a blind date I promise! Just be ready for 12:30 yeah? I'll drive you!" She grinned and patted your legs under the duvet. You groaned at the prospect of another disastrous date with some weirdo Ella has patched you up with and sat up, reaching for the coffee.

You both pulled up outside the small restaurant in Camden, feeling a bit fresher now the caffeine had hit you. Glaring at Ella as you stepped out of the car she grinned and waved as she pulled away. Walking in, you gave the waiter your name and he led you to a small table in the middle of the room. A young woman was sat at the table. She looked strangely familiar, but you couldn't place it. She looked up at you and smiled warmly, greeting you.

"Y/n? It's so nice to finally meet you!" That was definitely a Cork accent.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude - "

"I'm Orla. Orla Murphy." The penny dropped quickly when you realised why she looked familiar. She was the spit of her older brother. You looked to the floor, before quickly looking around.

"He isn't here, and he doesn't know I'm here. Please y/n, sit down?" She pointed to the chair next to you and against your better judgement you took it. The waiter came and offered menus, as you ordered a large glass of Rosé. Orla quickly making it a bottle and two glasses, and insisting she was paying.

"Why, Orla?" You asked after the waiter had left.

"Why are you here? Because I wanted to meet the woman who's completely bowled my brother over and refuses to let him explain. I knew that if he was here, you'd have left immediately. Just hear me out, okay?"

"Alright. I'm listening."

"My brother can be a complete douchebag, trust me. But he's also one of the most loyal, kind, generous, funny, charismatic people I've ever known. He doesn't, and has never, intentionally hurt anyone in his life. Since that night with you, he's been miserable as sin y/n. He's tried looking for you all year, he's been like a lost puppy and frankly I'm getting real sick of him moping around like a lost sheep!"

"Do you know what he did?"

"I know what Neve said he did. But I can absolutely guarantee he didn't. Neve was crazy. She couldn't accept that he wouldn't sleep with her. She'd grope him when people weren't looking - I'm not talking a bum slap, although she did that plenty of times too, I'm talking full on crotch grabs. She was so drunk one night, she straddled his hips in front of everyone at an aftershow party and gave him a lapdance - it was both embarrassing and hilarious in equal measure! He pretended to fall asleep after two minutes of her grinding against him just to get her to stop!" She chuckled at the memory and you couldn't help but smile too, even though you were horrified. If the tables were turned and Cillian had behaved that way towards her he'd have been arrested.

"Seeing you with him that night just topped the bill for her. She lied to you about the wager, hoping he'd be so heartbroken that you'd left him, he'd fall straight into her arms."

"And did he?"

"No. He told her she was a cheap, conniving, evil witch who was only after him for a career boost. He told her never to contact him again or he'd go to the press about the sexual harassment she'd subjected him to throughout the run."

"I can't believe she put him through all that..."

"She was a psycho y/n. Complete basket case. He couldn't believe his luck when he saw you last night, but when you walked away again.. he ended up at mine last night. I had to meet you in person, I thought maybe you'd believe it this time - he loves you y/n, I've never seen him like this about anyone before."

"He what?"

"He hasn't said it but my god it's obvious! He's always talking about you! Funny things you said that night, the letters you used to write him, the photos you'd send of your holidays... He kept them all you know." You smiled, remembering how you used to write fan letters to him, and he'd always reply. In the end you became almost like pen pals - he never ignored a letter.

You and Orla talked more over lunch. When it came time to pay the bill, you couldn't help but laugh when she confessed to using Cillian's credit card.

"Here's his number y/n. Call him?" She wrote his number down on a piece of paper, and hers next to it, and you nodded. She gave you a warm hug, and left you alone to think.

[rosenallies]

Could we get some fluff for the groupie au!! Literally anything you want to write 🥺🥺

Thank u for the creative freedom, here is..whatever this is💗

—

Rosé walked back to the tour bus, whistling a tune she had heard on the radio at some point or another. She had left early this morning for rehearsal, leaving Denali still fast asleep in her bunk after a late night. She half expected the girl to be still asleep even though she had left hours ago.

Walking into the bus, Denali was very much not asleep, but instead sat cross legged on the floor in front of the couch, her eyes following around a tiny ball of fluff that played with a string on the floor.

“Denali, what the hell is that?” Rosé asked, pointing to the creature.

The brunette looked up, finally noticing Rosé’s presence. She stood up and picked up the little kitten, showing it off proudly to Rosé. Though she had never been much of a cat person, she had to admit it was kind of cute in a weird way, even though it was sort of cross eyed and had dingy grey fur.

“I named her Ivy,” she said, beaming.

Rosé reached out and tentatively scratched her little head, the kitten pushing into her touch and purring.

“Where did you find her?”

“I took a walk and she was near some poison ivy plants so I picked her up just to get her away from them and then she curled up in my jacket and started purring so I couldn’t just leave her,” she explained like it was the obvious choice.

“And you named her Ivy because-“

“Of the poison ivy plant I found her under, yes.”

“Right, okay. So what exactly do you plan on doing with her? Have you found any shelters nearby that could take her?”

Denali pouted. “Why can’t we keep her?”

Sighing, Rosé rubbed a hand over her face. “Nali, baby, we can’t keep a kitten on a tour bus.”

“Why not? We can keep the litter box underneath the bunks so we won’t see it and I’ll clean it every day and always make sure she has enough food before we get on the road. She can be like Stephanie’s Child’s mascot or something.”

“I know, but-“

Before she could explain any further why having a cat on a tour bus was the worst idea possible, Jan and Lagoona walked in, their eyes immediately landing on the kitten in Denali’s arms.

“Oh. My. God!” Jan squealed, “who’s is that? She’s so cute.”

Denali handed the cat to Jan, the thing immediately snuggling up to her.

“I found her and I’m trying to convince Rosie to let me keep her,” Denali huffed, her arms crossed over her chest.

Jan looked at Rosé like she had suddenly gone nuts. “Bitch, I swear to god if you don’t let your girlfriend keep it I’m gonna push you off the bus in the middle of nowhere and tell the driver to step on it.”

Rosé rolled her eyes. “How are the hell are one of my best friends and girlfriend ganging up on me like this?” She exasperated. “Lagoona will you at least back me up on this?”

The blue haired girl turned around, Jan must have handed her the kitten because now she was holding it, letting it lick her chin while she cooed at it. The apologetic look on her face told Rosé everything she needed to know.

“Goddamit, okay, fine. Let’s go to the pet store to get some stuff for it,” she reluctantly agreed, mostly convinced by the puppy dog eyes Denali was giving her, making her weak at the knees.

A week later, Denali came back from a run to find Rosé fast asleep on the couch, Ivy curled up on her chest with her little head nestled underneath Rosé’s chin. Denali felt her heart melt, the sight before her eyes one of the cutest things she’d ever seen. Of course scary punk rocker Rosé who didn’t want the cat in the first place would fall in love with it. Quietly, Denali snapped a photo with her phone, immediately setting it as her new lock screen.

[the-fiction-witch]

Reporter

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER RATING: FLIRTY + SMUTTY

I sat in the office. On my little chair, my feet tucked perfectly under my chair and tucked up tightly to my desk, papers with my spider scribble notes across the place. My fingers tapping and clicking away at my typewriter. The sound of all the other writers and reporters clacking their keys and pushing their typewriters trying to work to the deadlines we had.

"Y/L/n! Got a little job for you" My boss called as he entered the room with a handful of paperwork

"Sir I need to get this finished for the next-" I began

"Y/n, I'm handing you a job most people in here would die for? now do you want it or not?"

"I want it sir" I answered, "what is it?" I asked as he handed me the paperwork

"I need you to go off to DC first thing in the morning over to the Us championship," He says

"I thought Marcus was covering the US championship?"

"He was, But I need a need face and some new wording in these champion pieces else I'm going to but a bullet through my head" he explained "And while you're there I need an In-depth"

"with?" I asked

"Watts."

"Again?"

"Readers like him, See what you can get new out of him"

"What makes you think he'll talk to me?"

"Of course he will y/n, flash him your pretties smile, get him away from all those other blood thirsty reporters and get me something new, interesting, and fresh" he explained I nodded and he wandered off to do other things so I finished this off as much as I could and took my paperwork going home to pack trying to find something new I could work with.

I sat in my hotel room beyond nervous, This was my first reporting job let alone on something like this, I sat on the floor of my hotel writing up questions I could ask him, Drinking from my little bottle of wine that was left in my room for me by the hotel. I knew my questions were awful. maybe I'd come up with something better in the morning, so I finished off my bottle and climbed into the bed.

I woke up rather suddenly to my alarm blaring at me I quickly turned it off but noticed the time

"Ohh shit!" I said getting out of bed quickly jumping in the shower, getting dressed and doing my hair grabbing my paperwork and running out my room and down to where the championship was being held seeing everyone already going about their business, I fixed my hair and my paperwork before I went inside the mass of people Luckily almost as soon as I arrived I saw him. Benny Watts sat on a chair talking to some people over a chessboard. I smiled as I stood close enough to hear but not close enough to induce upon the conversation too much until someone came over and many of the boys left, and he turned to me. "Hello" I smiled

"Hello," He says "You want something?"

"Ohh sorry I'm y/n Y/l/n from Chess Review" I smiled

"Aww they must really want something out of me, if they sent you" he smirked

"I'm sorry?" I asked blushing a little

"Nothing, not often then send the pretty young ones for me is all" he says taking my hand and giving it a kiss "So You wanna go to the bar and get started?" he asks so I nodded and headed off to the hotel bar sitting at a table in the corner "So go on then miss y/l/n"

"Okay Uhh sorry my paperwork a little..."

"it's alright, take your time"

I started with all the usual things, all the typical questions making notes where I needed too. I could tell he was a little bored and honestly, I was too. I stopped short reading the questions I had written last night they where uhh... different I must have been so tired and a little drunk I stared down at my page a moment

"Yes?" he asked as I hadn't spoken for a while, well these were different and fresh, things I highly doubt

"What's the weirdest thing you've thought about while playing chess?" I asked

"Oohh... that's a new one" he smirked "I don't know don't really tend to think about much of anything" he explained

"Do you prefer a bath or a shower?' I blushed 

"A shower" he answered "I rather like a nice hot shower in the morning, but who doesn't like a nice relaxing soak of an evening" he answered, smirking a little at me "your an interesting little thing aren't you?" 

"What makes you say so?"

"I don't know, you intrigue me" he smirked he clicked his fingers a little and a waitress came over "bottle of rosé two glasses" he told her and she nodded going off 

"Ohh I can't-"

"Don't worry, it's on me" he winked as she returned he got his wallet from his pocket handing her the cash and I did notice he handed her some extra and she wondered off again as he put his wallet away "now, you have a little drink it'll calm you down" he says pouring me a little glass and one for himself I took a tiny sip and it was nice    so I looked down more at my questions 

"How does it feel knowing so many girls like you so much?" I asked playing with the glass a little

"I barely notice." He says "girls are girls. Chess groupies, not worth the time" he explained "I like women. Who interests me, who sparked a curiosity, that's much more interesting" he explained "what about you? You have a thing for chess boys?" 

"What makes you think that?' 

"You write for Chess Review assuming you liked something about it, even if it is the boys?"

"No, I like the art of it all, the focus and the skill coming together so perfectly like watching an artist paint a beautiful picture' I explain having another sip of the wine 

"Do you wanna go to my room?" 

"I'm sorry?"

"Ask the rest of your questions? In private" he smirked 

"Oohh uhhh..."

"Come on," he smirked, grabbing the bottle and his things heading towards the elevator "you coming or not?' 

I grabbed my things and followed him as he led me to his hotel room, much more impressive than my own he three his stuff across the room and sat the wine on the table. "you don't mind if I get a little more... Comfortable do you miss y/l/n?' he asked leaning in his door and I heard it lock 

"Not at all Mr Watts" I blushed putting my things on the table "where should I?" I began

"Whenever you're comfortable. The sofa, the table, the bed?' he suggested I sat myself at the table having a little more wine and soon enough he sat across from me his arm in the chair a little as he relaxed he had changed slightly from earlier his hair loose and slightly fallen in his eye a smirk on his lips as he looked at me, his green button down undone a lot exposing his bare chest to me his chains sitting in his skin "go on"

"What would you say is your greatest achievement in chess-" I began

"Ughh, boring, come on I want another fun one" he smirked I looked at my notes trying to find one from Last night but I smirked to myself pushing my paper away a little 

"Bed in clothes or naked?' I asked 

"Oohh I like that one, uuuuhhh naked" he smirked "what about you?"

"Clothes"

"Awww you disappoint me baby" he whines "unless it's some slutty little babydoll you sleep in?"

"What would you say attracts you to a woman?"

"Confidence. Intelligence. A pretty face. Beautiful eyes" he explained moving some of my hair from my face "someone who gets my attention. Who keeps me interested. Who is a little playfully sometimes" he smirked his foot moving to playfully move against my own he smirked and I blushed a little going along with him so we where gently playing footsie under the table 

"What would you say is your biggest weakness with women?" I smirked 

"Uummmm... Well all those help, I like a girl with a little something to get hold of something squeeze on, lush full lips, a sultry voice" he smirked I blushed having a sip of my wine "being named y/n." He says making me choke a little "ohh yeah, big weakness of mine girls named y/n" he smirked looking at me biting in his mouth "what about you? What are your weakness baby?"

"Wouldn't you like to know" I smirked "I have some little questions"

"Go on then Miss y/l/n"

I smirked knowing I had already had too much to drink but I didn't care anymore "tits or arse?'

"Arse"

"Suck or fuck?"

'fuck"

"Get off or get someone else of?"

"Can't I just fuck us both happy baby?"

"Tie up or get tied up?"

"Depends what kinda mood I'm in" 

"Blow job or hand job?"

"Blow job all day baby"

"Bed or table?"

"Humm… I'll leave that up to you"

"I'm sorry?"

"Just a joke baby, bed. Beds Always better"

"What's your favorite position?'

"Oohh now that's a hard one." He says thinking a moment "I don't know, I like missionary because you get to watch her face when she cums and that's just amazing. But I really like cowgirl too but to be fair what man doesn't?" He smirked "I think… from behind. I like looking at a pretty pussy and ass at the Same time watch her struggle, bury her face away from you just to pull her up and hear her beg" 

"Size of your cock?" I smirked 

"How about I show you?" He growled before I could respond. He undid his pants and revealed his stiff cock at least seven inches but I was only guessing, he smirked a little and gently moved his hand on the base before he put it away again "that answers your question?"

"Yes" I blushed 

"How big are your tits?"

"Y/b/s" I answered

"How about you show me?" 

"I just uhh have one question left" I blushed 

"And it is?"

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

"... Yes" he smirked "now miss y/l/n, do you want to have sex with me?"

"Yes" I answered

"Good" he smirked getting up And standing close to me, he grabbed my arm roughly pulling me up to stand against him "then take your dress off and lay in the bed baby" he orders 

"Yes Mr Watts" 

[missjanjie]

I’d love to see a fic with Rosé and her two groupies 👀

i like that this doesn’t specify an au, which means it could be a straight up canon fic which amuses me

[supremeuppityone]

Chapter 117: A Precious Vintage

Author’s note: This was written for Klaroline Bingo @klaroline-events. Prompt: Best friend’s brother. 

You can read Part 2 here.

Bill Forbes died and the family fortune was lost. Now Caroline is desperate to keep her father’s charity afloat — without revealing her misfortune to Klaus, her childhood nemesis.

Warning: Some angst.

“I often think how unfairly life's good fortune is sometimes distributed.” ― Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace

           The crystal goblet was cool to the touch, holding the perfectly chilled Dom Pérignon rosé. And yet it scalded Caroline’s fingers the longer she held it. Her family once owned goblets like these. Until a month ago, they used to own a lot of things. Her smile was little more than a thin blade as she politely nodded at Carol Lockwood who gleefully detailed the latest rumors about the contentious Gilbert divorce. With that vicious old gossip, she knew better than to appear as anything less than perfectly content in front of her. The last thing she needed was to have a breakdown about her father’s death in front of Mystic Falls’ elite. Or the cruel aftermath.

           She murmured a few well-placed noises at Carol’s mindless recount of Miranda getting caught with Matt Donovan, a decades-younger bartender, and then allowed her gaze to sweep the grand ballroom once more. The charity auction’s glittering gold banners were crooked and if Rebekah was here, she’d scream bloody murder that polyester fabric had crossed the threshold of her ancestral manor. She loved her best friend, but her snobby side was almost as ugly as that dolphin tattoo she got on her ass cheek during that drunken weekend in Antigua.

           Carol suddenly squeezed her hand, cooing insincerely, “Please accept my condolences for your father’s passing. To lose him so unexpectedly must have been just dreadful.”

           Yes, dreadful. Especially the part where she and her mother learned that he’d fallen victim to a string of bad investments and now the Forbes’ fortune was almost gone. Caroline struggled to keep her face impassive, thinking back to how she’d had to comfort her mother just that morning when she broke down in hysterical sobs as they scoured meager apartments two towns over. They both knew eventually the truth would come out, and ferocious harpies like Carol would relish the news, but her mother insisted they keep up the pretense a bit longer. Especially since they were scrambling to keep Bill’s charity afloat and preserve his legacy.

           “Almost as dreadful as the sight of a grown man drunkenly chatting up a dimwitted bird younger than his granddaughter,” an accented voice dryly interjected, causing Carol’s forehead to crease angrily, or at least as much as the Botox would allow. Muttering a terse goodbye, she excused herself, which normally would’ve made Caroline sigh with relief, but now she was stuck with her childhood nemesis.

           She’d grown up with Klaus; affluent families like the Mikaelsons and Forbes tended to travel in the same social circles — especially in small towns like Mystic Falls. But while she and Rebekah instantly bonded to form a lasting friendship, her best friend’s brother was another matter. Blessed with a chiseled jawline and piercing intellect, add in the prestigious Mikaelson name and enviable fortune, and Klaus was one of the town’s most eligible bachelors. And a gigantic asshat.

           “I hope you aren’t expecting a thank you,” she coolly told him, “The day I can’t handle Botoxed bitches like Carol Lockwood is the day I skinny dip in mashed potatoes.”

           Gray eyes twinkling, he leaned in close as he hummed, “Now that I would pay to see, sweetheart. While I don’t share your odd affinity for mashed potatoes, I certainly can see the appeal now.”

           “I used to love them until you dunked my head in the serving bowl at Thanksgiving.”

           Klaus let out a long-suffering sigh as they settled into one of their well-worn arguments. “We were children.”

           “You chipped my tooth,” Caroline hissed, snagging another champagne flute from a waiter.

           He impishly clinked their crystal rims as he toasted her. “But what an enchanting smile you have now — as I’ve told you on countless occasions.”

           “Usually when you have several desperate groupies hanging off your arm,” she scoffed, hating how she secretly craved their bickering. Even though he’d always been a cocky asshole, arguing with him somehow felt like home. With all of the painful drama going on in her life, it was nice to indulge in something familiar.

           She rolled her eyes as she overheard Tyler Lockwood get rejected by one of the servers when he told her his yacht had a ‘bitchin’ view of the sunset’. For fuck’s sake, he’d been using that same bullshit line since they were in high school. She felt an instant connection with the girl and decided maybe that much black eyeliner could be attractive in its own way.

           “Yes, well, surely you noticed I’m unaccompanied tonight,” he ventured, eyes darting anywhere but at her as though he’d suddenly grown shy. “I thought Rebekah would’ve mentioned it...” he trailed off awkwardly.

           “She flew out last night. Alexander surprised her with a trip to Romania to hunt wild boar.”

           He raised an eyebrow. “My sister is a vegan.”

           “She thinks she’s in love,” Caroline retorted, hating her bittersweet tone.

           Flashing a dimpled smirk, he mocked, “Rebekah falls in love every other week. It’s the only time she’s punctual.” He cocked his head, studying her carefully. She wasn’t sure what he saw, but his expression turned serious as he added, “Not like you, though. You’re cautious. Meticulous. Examining every possible outcome from each angle before you take a step.”

           For once, she was struck speechless. Normally, interactions with her best friend’s brother were a bizarre mix of boisterous banter with thinly veiled hostility. This was new. She bought herself some time to process by taking a sip of the overpriced champagne; however, the familiar Dom tasted like ash. They used to serve it at every family celebration.

           “Let’s get out of here,” Klaus said unexpectedly, gray eyes blazing with a ferocity that Caroline found intensely appealing. She blamed the champagne. “I’m thinking San Sebastián. Remember that little place overlooking the Bay? Akelaŕe, I think?”

           A little half-smile touched her lips as she recalled how Rebekah’s brothers had tracked them down at the exclusive boutique hotel and convinced them to extend their stay another two weeks. In between the spectacular beaches and non-stop shopping in the local markets, they gorged themselves on Iberico carpaccio, delicate herbed soufflés and gallons of fruity txakoli and hearty crianza wines.

           She also recalled the way Klaus’ curls had darkened when he emerged from swimming in the sparkling bay, water droplets trailing down his firm chest. It was a memory she reluctantly carried with her, unsure if the spark she felt when they teased each other could be something more.

           He must’ve taken her silence as a rejection, because he quickly amended his offer with, “It doesn’t have to be a date; it could just be a friendly jaunt and you could plan our next adventure, sweetheart.” Right. She couldn’t afford to keep up with Klaus. Not now that they were from two different worlds. Caroline didn’t know what the future held for her, but she didn’t belong here anymore. And she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the pity in his eyes once he learned the truth. “I can’t,” she softly told him, unable to mask her pained smile as she made her way toward the Mikaelsons’ lavish south garden where the charity auction was set to begin.

           She chose a seat near the back, giving Elena and the Salvatores a wide berth when she caught part of a tiresome conversation about racing and how in an idiotic fit of one-upmanship, the brothers had purchased a pair of McLaren F1s to try out on the track that weekend. She also begrudgingly admired Elena’s bravery in showing her face tonight, knowing everyone would be gossiping about her parents’ ugly divorce. Of course, the Salvatores formed a protective cocoon around her all night, so it’s not as though Elena was truly alone.

           No one would ever protect Caroline like that. Straightening her spine, she refused to give into self-pity, and instead let her gaze slide appreciatively over the impressive collections to be auctioned. Several charities had been selected by the Founders’ committee to benefit from the proceeds, and it was shaping up to be one of the most successful auctions in the town’s history. There was a Miró, several Richters, plus a giant Jackson Pollock the Mikaelsons were donating from their extensive collection. Sparkling Steuben Glassware, and even antique Baccarat with diamond stoppers rounded out the offerings, but it was the vintage Bordeaux that kept her attention.

           It had been her father’s favorite bottle, purchased from the exclusive Travelers Vineyard the year she was born. It had held a place of honor in their wine cellar, and she’d burst into tears at least twice when she’d dusted it off for the auction. But she and her mother had agreed that Bill would’ve wanted them to keep the boys’ home going as long as possible. It was a cause that he was passionate about because his grandfather spent much of his youth in one, claiming it had saved his life.

           The auctioneer held up the bottle, announcing to the crowd, “A precious vintage priced at just under $30,000. All proceeds will benefit Safe House, a residential boarding facility for at-risk youth. We’ll start the bidding at $35,000.”

           Multiple paddles were raised, and she anxiously leaned forward, taken aback when Klaus bid an aggressive $40,000. He was sitting several rows off to the side, and gazed at her with an unreadable expression.

           A few more bids were called, and Caroline bit her lip, excited that the money could fund the facility even longer than she and her mother had planned. “$100,000,” Klaus confidently shouted, flashing a dimpled smirk at the flurry of gasps around him.

           She felt her heart thud in her chest as the auctioneer closed out the bidding. Klaus paid more than three times what that bottle was worth. Did he know it was her father’s? Mild panic flitted through her mind as Caroline questioned whether Klaus somehow knew about her family’s financial troubles. Was he secretly trying to help her? Or, maybe he just understood the importance of supporting charities?

           It didn’t matter, she decided. Selfless generosity should be acknowledged and she was tired of fighting her growing feelings. She was ready to take that step. In a swish of black silk, her stride was decisive as she moved into his path. Her breath caught as she admired the perfect hang of his Tom Ford tuxedo. Her smile was hesitant even as she struggled to keep her tone nonchalant. “That was quite the display.” She watched his fingers toy with the old-fashioned waxed cork of the bottle, and she wondered if he’d like to hear how her father had taught her to make wax seals when she was little. Maybe on the flight to San Sebastián?  

           “It seems my plan to gain your attention worked,” Klaus told her with a seductive grin, flashing his dimples as her cheeks warmed. “You seemed quite fixated on this bottle, and I decided to raise the stakes just to see that lovely flush when you’re especially vexed with me.”

           She nervously tucked a stray curl behind her ear, pleased that he’d been so attuned to her to notice the wine’s importance. He was someone she could confide in. Finally.

           Klaus lightly wiggled the bottle in his grip, sighing dramatically as he said, “Elijah will have my head when he finds out I’ve purchased something so tawdry for our collection. These charity events are quite clever to wait until attendees are properly smashed so they’re more inclined to open their pocketbooks.”  

           Caroline felt her heart sink at his words. “What? I don’t...”

           “No matter,” Klaus smoothly continued, “I’ll just toss the bottle in some dusty corner of the wine cellar and my dullard brother will be none the wiser.”

           It was a punch to the gut, but she was proud of the way her venomous smile didn’t falter. This wasn’t her world anymore. And she’d never been more grateful to be reminded of that. “That bottle belonged to my father. He lost our fortune and we needed the money to keep his charity from going under. So, thank you for your selfless donation.”

           Caroline was certain his chagrined expression would become one of her favorite memories. As she stormed off, she hissed over her shoulder, “And I hope you choke on your tawdry vintage!”

[lillie-ross]

Rick Ross’ Ex-Girlfriend Briteady Slams ‘Basketball Wives’ Star Jennifer Williams For Allegedly Dating The Rapper

Rick Ross’ Ex-Girlfriend Briteady Slams ‘Basketball Wives’ Star Jennifer Williams For Allegedly Dating The Rapper

Rick Ross and Basketball Wives star Jennifer Williams sparked dating rumors and the rapper’s ex-girlfriend Briteady is not happy! Briteady went on a rant on February 17 and called Jennifer a “thirst a** groupie b***h” among other names after the Basketball Wives star publicly thanked the rapper for gifting her a bottle from his rosé line.

Photo credit: Courtesy Of Jennifer…

[wineanddinosaur]

12 Things You Should Know About Moët & Chandon

Moët & Chandon is easily the biggest name in luxury Champagne. Rooted in 277 years of French winemaking and marketing ingenuity, the Champagne house is the largest in the world, producing close to 30 million bottles each year. It’s even a celebrity favorite (adored by one very important, very stoic royal). But however popular the brand and bubbly, there are probably a few things you don’t know. Here are 12 key facts about the famous Champagne house.

You’re probably saying it wrong.

Let’s get this out of the way first: It’s pronounced mo-wet, as if a baby is asking you to add more water, “Mo wet, pwease.” People who took French in high school are no doubt mildly devastated by this, considering we’ve all been correcting our friends with the “accurate” French pronunciation. But sorry, the T isn’t silent. The Moët family is originally from the Netherlands, having moved to France in the 1400s, all that time bravely holding onto their family name’s “T” pronunciation in a country notorious for dropping consonant sounds.

The Moët name is noble.

In 1445, King Charles VII of France made noblemen of brothers Jean and Nicolas Moët (who, ironically, would’ve probably liked to celebrate with some bubbly). The title carried on to 1743, when their descendent, the wine trader Claude Moët, founded Maison Moët in Épernay, his wine trading territory.

Chandon married into the business.

As a brand and a business, Moët & Chandon developed over generations: First there was Claude, then later his grandson Jean-Rémy Moët, who really helped create and globalize the Moët identity. When his son Victor Moët took over in 1832, he was joined by brother-in-law Pierre-Gabriel Chandon de Briailles. The Chandon name later crossed the pond in 1973 when Moët & Chandon established themselves (the first French producer to do so) as Domaine Chandon in the Napa Valley.

Moët & Chandon is the powerhouse Champagne.

It’s the largest Champagne house in the world, producing close to 30 million bottles annually, including its signature Moët Impérial, Rosé Impérial, Ice Impérial (more below), Rosé Ice Impérial, and the Grand Vintage Champagnes, which vary from year to year. The signature style, found in the Moët Impérial, is both fruit-forward and elegant: fleshy soft fruit mingling with delicately nutty cereal notes, all tied together in heaven’s own bubble wrap, the Champagne “pearl” carbonation. (In case you’re wondering where they keep all that good stuff, there are more than 17 miles of underground wine cellars at the Moët estate in Épernay.)

It’s Queen Elizabeth II’s favorite.

The house of Moët & Chandon is part of the largest luxury conglomerate in the world (wrap your mind around the dollar bill signs in this acronym: LVMH, a.k.a. Louis Vuitton Moët-Hennessy, which formed in the 1980s). So maybe it’s only natural that Moët holds what’s called a “Royal Warrant” to supply Queen Elizabeth with Champagne (which makes you wonder why she isn’t smiling more often). The royal family loves it so much that Moët was actually the Champagne of choice at Charles and Diana’s 1981 wedding.

The house also makes Dom Perignon and Hennessy.

Moët & Chandon churns out luxury beverages. They’re the producers of Dom Perignon, officially launching the brand in 1921 as a luxury vintage Champagne. They also make Hennessy Cognac, which they began producing in the 1970s. Dom Perignon is only produced during good vintages and takes a decade-plus to age, which is why the most recent available vintage is the Dom Perignon 2009 (though you’ll have better luck getting the excellent 2008 vintage).

Napoleon was an early Moët groupie.

Speaking of “luxury identity,” none other than Napoleon Bonaparte was known to have celebrated his victories with his bubbly of choice, Moët & Chandon. Napoleon supposedly met Jean-Rémy Moët at school as a young man, and the relationship continued over the years, fueled by Napoleon’s habit of stocking up on bubbles before every major military campaign, reasoning that “[i]n victory one deserves it, in defeat one needs it.” Agreed.

It’s made with three grapes — and a hundred different wines.

Moët & Chandon’s classic Moët Impérial is made with the traditional trifecta of Champagne grapes: Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Pinot Meunier. But that’s not the whole story. Those grapes are gathered from hundreds of parcels (plots of land within a given vineyard) located in hundreds of villages within the limestone-rich Champagne region. So while the components are simple in name — three classic grapes — the assembly of Moët Champagne is a complex process, reflecting a mosaic of terroir.

After sourcing the grapes, it’s all about the blend.

Being asked to produce Moët Brut Impérial year after year is like being asked to make exactly the same (delicious, ethereal) cake, with the challenge of getting a pinch of flour from one neighbor, a stick of butter from another, assembling ingredients from sources across an entire region. That’s how Moët is created: not from one vineyard, like a boutique grower Champagne, but from a massive patchwork of vineyards within the Champagne region. The key is blending, whereby a team of producers with highly skilled palates recreates the signature Moët style. It’s an art not uncommon to creating Scotch whisky or Bordeaux red blends.

It’s the first Champagne ever to be sprayed after a big win.

Napoleon’s global conquests aside, that is. A Jeroboam of Moët & Chandon was handed to Dan Turney in 1967 after the underestimated driver won the 24-hour Le Mans race in his Ford GT40. It’s not clear whether it was divine inspiration (a whisper from Dom Perignon himself?) but Turney immediately proceeded to open the bottle and spray its contents on himself and the crowd, starting the now-timeless tradition. (And yes, because it’s the future, there’s actually footage of him doing it.)

Moët dares to pour Champagne over ice.

If you’re one of the people who like a couple of ice cubes in your white wine, feel shame no longer. (Or, if you’re one of those other people who glare at people who get ice cubes, step on back.) The biggest Champagne house in the world is doing it: In 2010, Moët created its Ice Impérial specifically for pouring over ice cubes, which both dilute the wine’s richer, slightly sweeter fruit elements and loosen its tight chain of bubbles.

Moët in the first line of ‘Killer Queen.’

Sure, Moët ’s mentioned in other songs (the Notorious B.I.G. was a big fan, just see what he’s sipping in the back of the club in “Big Poppa”). But Queen’s epic “Killer Queen” starts off with Freddie Mercury singing, “She keeps Moët & Chandon in her pretty cabinet.” If there’s a better pop-culture endorsement, we don’t know what it is.

The article 12 Things You Should Know About Moët & Chandon appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/moet-chandon-imperial-brut-guide/

[johnboothus]

12 Things You Should Know About Moët & Chandon

Moët & Chandon is easily the biggest name in luxury Champagne. Rooted in 277 years of French winemaking and marketing ingenuity, the Champagne house is the largest in the world, producing close to 30 million bottles each year. It’s even a celebrity favorite (adored by one very important, very stoic royal). But however popular the brand and bubbly, there are probably a few things you don’t know. Here are 12 key facts about the famous Champagne house.

You’re probably saying it wrong.

Let’s get this out of the way first: It’s pronounced mo-wet, as if a baby is asking you to add more water, “Mo wet, pwease.” People who took French in high school are no doubt mildly devastated by this, considering we’ve all been correcting our friends with the “accurate” French pronunciation. But sorry, the T isn’t silent. The Moët family is originally from the Netherlands, having moved to France in the 1400s, all that time bravely holding onto their family name’s “T” pronunciation in a country notorious for dropping consonant sounds.

The Moët name is noble.

In 1445, King Charles VII of France made noblemen of brothers Jean and Nicolas Moët (who, ironically, would’ve probably liked to celebrate with some bubbly). The title carried on to 1743, when their descendent, the wine trader Claude Moët, founded Maison Moët in Épernay, his wine trading territory.

Chandon married into the business.

As a brand and a business, Moët & Chandon developed over generations: First there was Claude, then later his grandson Jean-Rémy Moët, who really helped create and globalize the Moët identity. When his son Victor Moët took over in 1832, he was joined by brother-in-law Pierre-Gabriel Chandon de Briailles. The Chandon name later crossed the pond in 1973 when Moët & Chandon established themselves (the first French producer to do so) as Domaine Chandon in the Napa Valley.

Moët & Chandon is the powerhouse Champagne.

It’s the largest Champagne house in the world, producing close to 30 million bottles annually, including its signature Moët Impérial, Rosé Impérial, Ice Impérial (more below), Rosé Ice Impérial, and the Grand Vintage Champagnes, which vary from year to year. The signature style, found in the Moët Impérial, is both fruit-forward and elegant: fleshy soft fruit mingling with delicately nutty cereal notes, all tied together in heaven’s own bubble wrap, the Champagne “pearl” carbonation. (In case you’re wondering where they keep all that good stuff, there are more than 17 miles of underground wine cellars at the Moët estate in Épernay.)

It’s Queen Elizabeth II’s favorite.

The house of Moët & Chandon is part of the largest luxury conglomerate in the world (wrap your mind around the dollar bill signs in this acronym: LVMH, a.k.a. Louis Vuitton Moët-Hennessy, which formed in the 1980s). So maybe it’s only natural that Moët holds what’s called a “Royal Warrant” to supply Queen Elizabeth with Champagne (which makes you wonder why she isn’t smiling more often). The royal family loves it so much that Moët was actually the Champagne of choice at Charles and Diana’s 1981 wedding.

The house also makes Dom Perignon and Hennessy.

Moët & Chandon churns out luxury beverages. They’re the producers of Dom Perignon, officially launching the brand in 1921 as a luxury vintage Champagne. They also make Hennessy Cognac, which they began producing in the 1970s. Dom Perignon is only produced during good vintages and takes a decade-plus to age, which is why the most recent available vintage is the Dom Perignon 2009 (though you’ll have better luck getting the excellent 2008 vintage).

Napoleon was an early Moët groupie.

Speaking of “luxury identity,” none other than Napoleon Bonaparte was known to have celebrated his victories with his bubbly of choice, Moët & Chandon. Napoleon supposedly met Jean-Rémy Moët at school as a young man, and the relationship continued over the years, fueled by Napoleon’s habit of stocking up on bubbles before every major military campaign, reasoning that “[i]n victory one deserves it, in defeat one needs it.” Agreed.

It’s made with three grapes — and a hundred different wines.

Moët & Chandon’s classic Moët Impérial is made with the traditional trifecta of Champagne grapes: Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Pinot Meunier. But that’s not the whole story. Those grapes are gathered from hundreds of parcels (plots of land within a given vineyard) located in hundreds of villages within the limestone-rich Champagne region. So while the components are simple in name — three classic grapes — the assembly of Moët Champagne is a complex process, reflecting a mosaic of terroir.

After sourcing the grapes, it’s all about the blend.

Being asked to produce Moët Brut Impérial year after year is like being asked to make exactly the same (delicious, ethereal) cake, with the challenge of getting a pinch of flour from one neighbor, a stick of butter from another, assembling ingredients from sources across an entire region. That’s how Moët is created: not from one vineyard, like a boutique grower Champagne, but from a massive patchwork of vineyards within the Champagne region. The key is blending, whereby a team of producers with highly skilled palates recreates the signature Moët style. It’s an art not uncommon to creating Scotch whisky or Bordeaux red blends.

It’s the first Champagne ever to be sprayed after a big win.

Napoleon’s global conquests aside, that is. A Jeroboam of Moët & Chandon was handed to Dan Turney in 1967 after the underestimated driver won the 24-hour Le Mans race in his Ford GT40. It’s not clear whether it was divine inspiration (a whisper from Dom Perignon himself?) but Turney immediately proceeded to open the bottle and spray its contents on himself and the crowd, starting the now-timeless tradition. (And yes, because it’s the future, there’s actually footage of him doing it.)

Moët dares to pour Champagne over ice.

If you’re one of the people who like a couple of ice cubes in your white wine, feel shame no longer. (Or, if you’re one of those other people who glare at people who get ice cubes, step on back.) The biggest Champagne house in the world is doing it: In 2010, Moët created its Ice Impérial specifically for pouring over ice cubes, which both dilute the wine’s richer, slightly sweeter fruit elements and loosen its tight chain of bubbles.

Moët in the first line of ‘Killer Queen.’

Sure, Moët ’s mentioned in other songs (the Notorious B.I.G. was a big fan, just see what he’s sipping in the back of the club in “Big Poppa”). But Queen’s epic “Killer Queen” starts off with Freddie Mercury singing, “She keeps Moët & Chandon in her pretty cabinet.” If there’s a better pop-culture endorsement, we don’t know what it is.

The article 12 Things You Should Know About Moët & Chandon appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/moet-chandon-imperial-brut-guide/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/12-things-you-should-know-about-moet-chandon

[isaiahrippinus]

12 Things You Should Know About Moët & Chandon

Moët & Chandon is easily the biggest name in luxury Champagne. Rooted in 277 years of French winemaking and marketing ingenuity, the Champagne house is the largest in the world, producing close to 30 million bottles each year. It’s even a celebrity favorite (adored by one very important, very stoic royal). But however popular the brand and bubbly, there are probably a few things you don’t know. Here are 12 key facts about the famous Champagne house.

You’re probably saying it wrong.

Let’s get this out of the way first: It’s pronounced mo-wet, as if a baby is asking you to add more water, “Mo wet, pwease.” People who took French in high school are no doubt mildly devastated by this, considering we’ve all been correcting our friends with the “accurate” French pronunciation. But sorry, the T isn’t silent. The Moët family is originally from the Netherlands, having moved to France in the 1400s, all that time bravely holding onto their family name’s “T” pronunciation in a country notorious for dropping consonant sounds.

The Moët name is noble.

In 1445, King Charles VII of France made noblemen of brothers Jean and Nicolas Moët (who, ironically, would’ve probably liked to celebrate with some bubbly). The title carried on to 1743, when their descendent, the wine trader Claude Moët, founded Maison Moët in Épernay, his wine trading territory.

Chandon married into the business.

As a brand and a business, Moët & Chandon developed over generations: First there was Claude, then later his grandson Jean-Rémy Moët, who really helped create and globalize the Moët identity. When his son Victor Moët took over in 1832, he was joined by brother-in-law Pierre-Gabriel Chandon de Briailles. The Chandon name later crossed the pond in 1973 when Moët & Chandon established themselves (the first French producer to do so) as Domaine Chandon in the Napa Valley.

Moët & Chandon is the powerhouse Champagne.

It’s the largest Champagne house in the world, producing close to 30 million bottles annually, including its signature Moët Impérial, Rosé Impérial, Ice Impérial (more below), Rosé Ice Impérial, and the Grand Vintage Champagnes, which vary from year to year. The signature style, found in the Moët Impérial, is both fruit-forward and elegant: fleshy soft fruit mingling with delicately nutty cereal notes, all tied together in heaven’s own bubble wrap, the Champagne “pearl” carbonation. (In case you’re wondering where they keep all that good stuff, there are more than 17 miles of underground wine cellars at the Moët estate in Épernay.)

It’s Queen Elizabeth II’s favorite.

The house of Moët & Chandon is part of the largest luxury conglomerate in the world (wrap your mind around the dollar bill signs in this acronym: LVMH, a.k.a. Louis Vuitton Moët-Hennessy, which formed in the 1980s). So maybe it’s only natural that Moët holds what’s called a “Royal Warrant” to supply Queen Elizabeth with Champagne (which makes you wonder why she isn’t smiling more often). The royal family loves it so much that Moët was actually the Champagne of choice at Charles and Diana’s 1981 wedding.

The house also makes Dom Perignon and Hennessy.

Moët & Chandon churns out luxury beverages. They’re the producers of Dom Perignon, officially launching the brand in 1921 as a luxury vintage Champagne. They also make Hennessy Cognac, which they began producing in the 1970s. Dom Perignon is only produced during good vintages and takes a decade-plus to age, which is why the most recent available vintage is the Dom Perignon 2009 (though you’ll have better luck getting the excellent 2008 vintage).

Napoleon was an early Moët groupie.

Speaking of “luxury identity,” none other than Napoleon Bonaparte was known to have celebrated his victories with his bubbly of choice, Moët & Chandon. Napoleon supposedly met Jean-Rémy Moët at school as a young man, and the relationship continued over the years, fueled by Napoleon’s habit of stocking up on bubbles before every major military campaign, reasoning that “[i]n victory one deserves it, in defeat one needs it.” Agreed.

It’s made with three grapes — and a hundred different wines.

Moët & Chandon’s classic Moët Impérial is made with the traditional trifecta of Champagne grapes: Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Pinot Meunier. But that’s not the whole story. Those grapes are gathered from hundreds of parcels (plots of land within a given vineyard) located in hundreds of villages within the limestone-rich Champagne region. So while the components are simple in name — three classic grapes — the assembly of Moët Champagne is a complex process, reflecting a mosaic of terroir.

After sourcing the grapes, it’s all about the blend.

Being asked to produce Moët Brut Impérial year after year is like being asked to make exactly the same (delicious, ethereal) cake, with the challenge of getting a pinch of flour from one neighbor, a stick of butter from another, assembling ingredients from sources across an entire region. That’s how Moët is created: not from one vineyard, like a boutique grower Champagne, but from a massive patchwork of vineyards within the Champagne region. The key is blending, whereby a team of producers with highly skilled palates recreates the signature Moët style. It’s an art not uncommon to creating Scotch whisky or Bordeaux red blends.

It’s the first Champagne ever to be sprayed after a big win.

Napoleon’s global conquests aside, that is. A Jeroboam of Moët & Chandon was handed to Dan Turney in 1967 after the underestimated driver won the 24-hour Le Mans race in his Ford GT40. It’s not clear whether it was divine inspiration (a whisper from Dom Perignon himself?) but Turney immediately proceeded to open the bottle and spray its contents on himself and the crowd, starting the now-timeless tradition. (And yes, because it’s the future, there’s actually footage of him doing it.)

Moët dares to pour Champagne over ice.

If you’re one of the people who like a couple of ice cubes in your white wine, feel shame no longer. (Or, if you’re one of those other people who glare at people who get ice cubes, step on back.) The biggest Champagne house in the world is doing it: In 2010, Moët created its Ice Impérial specifically for pouring over ice cubes, which both dilute the wine’s richer, slightly sweeter fruit elements and loosen its tight chain of bubbles.

Moët in the first line of ‘Killer Queen.’

Sure, Moët ’s mentioned in other songs (the Notorious B.I.G. was a big fan, just see what he’s sipping in the back of the club in “Big Poppa”). But Queen’s epic “Killer Queen” starts off with Freddie Mercury singing, “She keeps Moët & Chandon in her pretty cabinet.” If there’s a better pop-culture endorsement, we don’t know what it is.

The article 12 Things You Should Know About Moët & Chandon appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/moet-chandon-imperial-brut-guide/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/189774315379

[rosenallies]

GROUPIE AU MY BELOVED !!!! I live for the cliffhangers

ahh ty! Here is the last chronological part as promised 😁💗 feel free to send random prompts for this verse or something else as the Drama of this one is over for now 💗 thank u and have a good night

——

“Fuck, Rosé what are you doing here?”

The pink haired girl took off her sunglasses and lowered her hood, letting Denali get a good look at her for the first time since that night over a month ago. She looked as tired as Denali felt.

“I didn’t want to get recognized,” Rosé said awkwardly, “but I wanted to talk to you.”

Denali stepped back, wordlessly letting her inside and shutting the door behind them, taking a deep breath before turning around to face her.

“Rosé, I-“ Denali started, Rosé interrupting her with a wave of her hand.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain yourself. I’m not mad at you, I just wanted closure is all.”

Denali felt her chest sink. Of course she fucked up so badly there was no chance in fixing it, but Rosé deserved closure so she let her talk.

“I just don’t understand why you would do that to me, Denali,” she said sadly, “I know maybe I let my feelings get the best of me, but I thought we were at least friends. If you didn’t feel the same, why couldn’t you just tell me instead of running away?”

The brunette stopped dead in her tracks. “Who said I didn’t have feelings for you?”

Rosé looked at her like she had ten heads. “You ran away, what else was I supposed to think?”

Denali stepped closer, their faces inches apart. She could hear Rosé’s breath hitch in her throat. “Rosie, I do have feelings for you. I do now and I did then.”

“Then why did you leave?” Rosé asked timidly, unsure if she wanted to hear the truth.

Denali sighed. “I was terrified. I mean, I am. I am terrified.”

The brunette’s voice cracked on the last syllable and Rosé found herself wanting to wrap her up in her arms and never let go, protecting her from anything she could ever need protection from.

But she settled for cupping Denali’s cheek, whispering, “Don’t be.”

Denali’s eyes fluttered shut as Rosé kissed her, the soft lips moving against her own like they’d done so many times before.

When they pulled away, Rosé found that Denali was crying.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed, wiping at her eyes.

Rosé shook her head. “It’s okay. Do you want to go lay down?”

She nodded, leading Rosé to her bedroom.

“I’m-um-sorry about the mess,” she apologized, taking in the abysmal state of the room. Clothes littered the floor and the bedding was askew.

Rosé smiled softly. “I don’t care about that. Can I hold you?” She asked, sitting down on the bed.

“Please,” Denali replied, crawling up the bed. Rosé followed behind her, wrapping her arms around Denali’s body, which seemed smaller than before.

Rosé sighed against the crown of Denali’s head, the familiar scent of her shampoo invading her senses. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

“What? Why are you sorry?”

“I should have reached out sooner, I should have-“

Denali hushed her. “And I should have talked to you about being scared but I didn’t. I ran, I was the one that started all this.”

“What are you so afraid of?”

She replied shakily. “Everything. I’ve never felt like this for someone before and that alone terrifies me. And I know you love what you do but I’m scared of being in the public eye. We never got caught sneaking around, and I’m not ready to let the whole world in like that.”

Rosé nodded along, understanding all her fears. “Nali, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We’ll take everything slow,” she promised.

“I know. I don’t want you to think that I’m not proud to be with you, I just- I’m not ready for everyone to have something to say, about me, about us, about anything.”

Rosé kissed her temple, letting her lips linger. “We’ll go at whatever speed you need, okay?”

Denali smiled, the first real one in over a month. “So where do we go from here?”

“Come back on tour with me? Please? I miss you.”

Giggling, Denali kissed her nose. “I thought that was a given. Is there anything you want to ask me though?”

“Nali, I appreciate you jumping in but I don’t think I’m ready to be engaged,” Rosé said sarcastically, holding out on her.

Denali rolled her eyes affectionately. “Not what I meant, stupid.”

“Ok, ok, Denali Foxx, will you be my girlfriend?” Rosé asked, a dopey grin on her face.

“Of course I will, stupid,” she said, a grin matching Rosé’s.

Rosé laughed, pulling Denali on top of her and kissing her deeply until the brunette was whimpering into her mouth.

They made up slowly and affectionately, kissing every inch of exposed skin that their lips could reach. Although it was like everything was in slow motion, it was the best sex they had ever had, the release of their feelings letting out pent up passion.

By the time, Mik had walked back in the front door, heading straight to Denali’s room to check on her, she and Rosé were fast asleep in her bed, tangled up in each other.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that crept up on his lips, the smile on his best friends’ face even as she slept telling him that all would be okay again.

[aqlyrics-blog]

Side Bitch

New Post has been published on http://purelyrics.net/lyrics/side-bitch/

Side Bitch

–Chorus: Chris Brown– You ain’t nothing but trouble, yeah, yeah Girl, that’s why you my side bitch Give your ass to all them niggas I just wanna fuck, no love Say you love me, bitch, you lying Give your ass to all them niggas She’s sexy, I want that I know she been leadin’ me on He gave her a bottle of Rosé Watch that bitch turn off her phone She sneaky, can’t believe Anything that comes out her lips Girl, that’s why you my side bitch That’s why you my side bitch

–Verse 1: Chris Brown– Look, I’m takin’ shots of D’USSÉ Te-tellin’ me you love me, better watch what you say Bi-bitch, you a bird, I got a flock of groupies Lo-lo-lookin’ for the money, bitch, I ball, I’m too paid What you, what you mean I ain’t never committin’? Every nigga in LA to hit it I ain’t, I ain’t throwin’ no shade, lil’ mama got amazin’ titties Big booty but her brain is missin’ Let me paint the picture Says she, says she couldn’t see me tonight, had to go to work Had to get her weight up 4-45 minutes later, seen the bitch in the club with another nigga laid up (laid up) With her triflin’ ass, I guess this hoe all about her paper I’m-I’m-I’ma do me, I-I-I told her don’t do me no favors, favors Thinkin’ ‘bout wildin’ out, then the DJ startin’ shoutin’ me out Yeah, I’m finna send my niggas to the bitch crib While she fuckin’ my niggas, runnin’ the house Huh, I need to cool down, nigga Call myself Brown, you that nigga Get up off that mob shit A nigga can’t really be mad about a side bitch, ha

–Chorus: Chris Brown– You ain’t nothing but trouble, yeah, yeah Girl, that’s why you my side bitch Give your ass to all them niggas I just wanna fuck, no love Say you love me, bitch, you lying Give your ass to all them niggas She’s sexy, I want that I know she been leadin’ me on He gave her a bottle of Rosé Watch that bitch turn off her phone She sneaky, can’t believe Anything that comes out her lips Girl, that’s why you my side bitch That’s why you my side bitch

–Verse 2: Ray J– I-I-I got a lot of freaky reasons Why-why I call you my side chick, I-I-I call you my side chick (side chick) I-I fuck you every other season (si-si-side chick, oh yeah) Ba-baby, you too much trouble for a nigga to be in (si-si-side chick) Why does that pussy feel so good? (So fucking good) A fucked up position for a nigga to be in She got so much motivation, my side bitch Pu-pu-pussy good and hella tight A fucked up position for a nigga to be in Girl, we be fuckin’ this bitch ’til she hate it Bo-bottom bitches kinda crazy Too much trouble for a nigga to be in Si-si-side bitch tryna have my babies

–Chorus: Chris Brown & (Ray J)– You ain’t nothing but trouble, yeah, yeah (ooh, woah) Girl, that’s why you my side bitch (th-th-that’s why you my side bitch) Give your ass to all them niggas (all my niggas) I just wanna fuck, no love (fuck, no love) Say you love me, bitch, you lying Give your ass to all them niggas (oh, wanna let the homies get it) She’s sexy, I want that I know she been leadin’ me on (and I know she been leadin’ me on) He gave her a bottle of Rosé (of Rosé) Watch that bitch turn off her phone She sneaky, can’t believe Anything that comes out her lips (can’t believe anything that this bitch talking ’bout) Girl, that’s why you my side bitch (that’s why) That’s why you my side bitch (that’s why you my side bitch)

–Outro: Ray J– Yeah, ooh, that’s why That’s why, that’s why

[rosenallies]

What about in the Groupie AU the tour bus breaks down and the replacement bus has a bedroom in the back instead of only bunk beds. Jan and Goona would be so mad about it!

omg ..,..can tour buses have rooms?? Never mind who cares

——

“Nali and I get the bedroom!” Rosé called out childishly, pushing past her band mates to get onto the replacement bus while the other one was parked behind them, smoke coming from the hood and waiting to be towed to the nearest repair shop.

Jan scoffed. “Why do you two get it?”

“Say that again, Jannifer, you two. There’s two of us who sleep in one bunk,” Denali retorted with a giggle, following Rosé onto the bus.

Lagoona rolled her eyes. “Nice try, Jan, did you really think they were gonna give up a chance to fuck behind closed doors for once?”

“Well, maybe now we won’t have to just pretend it’s not happening.”

Lagoona patted her on the back. “That’s the spirit!”

Later that night, after the show in god knows what city, Rosé and Denali ran back to the bus hand in hand and giggling like school children.

Rosé dragged Denali back to the end compartment of the bus, like a little makeshift bedroom with a decent sized bed. She clicked the lock on the sliding door and turned her attention back to the brunette. Denali stood on her toes and threw her arms around Rosé’s neck, kissing her, urgency behind her movements.

“Hey, slow down, baby, we’ve got some privacy for once, we don’t need to go so quickly.”

Denali hummed. “Hmm I suppose so, who knows when we’ll get the chance again.”

Rosé looped her arms around Denali’s waist, lifting her off her feet. Denali giggled, pressing her lips to Rosé’s. The pink haired girl kissed back, backing them up against the closed door. Her hands found themselves traveling underneath Denali’s sweater, her cold fingertips raising goosebumps on her warm skin.

“Bed, Rosie, bed,” Denali whined against her lips.

Rosé turned them around, backing Denali up onto the bed and hovering above her, her pink hair ticking Denali’s cheek, making her giggle.

“I love you,” Denali whispered sincerely.

“I love you too, Nali.”

They took their time, both undressing each other purposefully slow, savoring the rare privacy. “You’re so beautiful,” Rosé said, awestruck at her beauty. She’d seen Denali naked countless times, but lately it’d all been in the dark, her body barely visible underneath Rosé’s own as they maneuvered each other’s bodies in the cramped space of the bunks. Meanwhile, Denali acted like she was touch starved, whining with every touch, moaning when Rosé shifted so her leg was pressed against Denali’s core. She quickly muffled the sound with her hand, that Rosé had removed just as quick.

“It’s okay, angel. I wanna hear you moan for me all night long.”

The next morning, Rosé woke first as usual and left the tiny room to go make her and Denali a pot of coffee, the brunette always grumpy until she had her first cup. Surprisingly, Jan and Lagoona were already awake as well, chatting idly over breakfast.

Jan looked her up and down with a grimace. “We were just talking about how much we hate you.”

Rosé crossed her arms over her chest. “What? Why?”

“Oh let me give you a little hint,” she cleared her throat, voice going up an octave, “oh my god, Rosie! Give it to me!”

Rosé felt her cheeks burn. “You guys heard?”

“Just because we can’t see it, doesn’t mean we can’t hear, we were still ten feet away regardless of if we were separated by a door or not,” Lagoona scoffed.

“Are you guys really mad?”

Jan chuckled. “No, I’m glad you’re having so much fun, I’ll just be sure to be extra loud next time Jackie and I have FaceTime sex.”

Lagoona rolled her eyes, nudging Jan’s shoulder. “You guys are both disgusting.”

[rosenallies]

just wanted to say i’m obsessed with your groupie au it’s so good also if you ever felt compelled to do a lil jan/jackie moment in that verse i would die. anything you want but i will say i love a hurt/comfort moment

Thank you babes! I’m glad you like this verse!!💗💗

I know this is one of the most recent prompts sent in but I can’t resist writing Jankie 💗😁

—-

Jan stared at herself in the dressing room mirror, practicing her fake smile with her heavily made up reflection staring back at her. She loved her job, she did, but sometimes the sacrifices didn’t seem worth it. Today was her and Jackie’s first anniversary and she had a show halfway across the country while Jackie was back in New York. They’d texted all day and would likely FaceTime after the show, but Jan wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in Jackie’s arms and going on a normal anniversary date like a normal couple.

She snapped from her thoughts when Rosé barged in. “Call time’s in 5,” she said.

Rosé came up behind her and hugged her. “I’m sorry you’re missing your girl.”

Jan frowned. “Easy for you to say when your girlfriend follows you around on tour like a lost puppy dog.”

“Hey,” Rosé removed her touch, raising her hands up in defense, “no need to get snippy.”

She sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. I just really miss her.”

Rosé squeezed her shoulder. “I know, channel all those emotions into the music and let’s have a great show.”

Jan smiled. “Ok, thanks, Rosie.”

Rosé kissed her cheek softly, careful not to get lipstick on her. “See you out there, Jannie.”

The pink haired girl skipped out of the room, glad Jan was completely oblivious to her plans.

The show went on how it usually did, they had fun, the fans screamed their names and it was bliss beside for the fact that Jan was missing Jackie so much.

Toward the end of the show, Rosé began to speak to the crowd.

“So, for our final song, we’re gonna slow it down a bit.”

Jan looked at her confused, though Lagoona and their band seemed to be in on it.

“For those of you who don’t know, today is Jan and her lovely girlfriend Jackie’s very first anniversary.”

The crowd erupted in applause, Rosé and Lagoona clapping with them. Suddenly, the crowd got even louder and someone tapped on Jan’s shoulder from behind. Whipping around, she nearly fell to her knees when she saw who it was.

“Oh my god, Jackie,” she said, throwing herself in the brunette’s arms.

Jackie pet her back comfortingly. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

Jan pulled away and kissed her, not caring that the world was watching until Rosé cleared her throat.

“Okay, you two this isn’t an 18+ show.”

Jan laughed, speaking into her microphone. “That’s what I keep saying about you on the tour bus.”

Rosé rolled her eyes, the crowd going nuts.

“Alright, alright, we promised to perform tonight, not subject them to the disgusting love parade going on,” Lagoona said, laughter behind her voice.

The music started then, something soft and slow, a mile away from the rest of their set from the night. Jan sang from her heart, all of the love woven into the lyrics dedicated to Jackie and her warm brown eyes and honey skin.

After, they closed the show with a bit more banter, Jackie staying up on the stage, close to Jan the entire time.

Once the curtains closed, Jan and Jackie ran off to the dressing room, leaving everyone else in the dust.

The door shut behind them and Jan leaped into Jackie’s arms, the other girl kissing her senseless. They made love softly and quietly on the couch, love confessions hanging in the air afterwards, clothes strewn about the room while they Jan laid on top of Jackie, their legs tangled together.

“How long are you staying?”

Jackie sighed. “My flight leaves in the morning.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you’re here now,” she said, feigning a smile.

Tucking a strand of hair behind Jan’s ear, Jackie smiled softly back. “I’m glad too. I’ve missed you, you know?”

“I know. I’ve missed you too. I can’t wait to have some time off.”

Jackie continued to gently pet her hair. “A few more months, baby.”

“We could be together more if you quit your job and came with me,” Jan said, hopefully.

“Baby, you know I can’t do that. I can’t expect you to take care of everything financially. I know you make plenty of money, but we haven’t even moved in together yet.”

Jan buried her face in Jackie’s neck. “I know, I’m sorry. I just miss you.”

“Hey, look at me,” she said, Jan lifting her head up, “let’s move in together after this leg of the tour is over, then whenever you’re home we’ll be together all the time. You’re over mine all the time anyway, no point in paying rent on a place you’re never in.”

“Really? You’d want to?”

Jackie kissed her temple. “Of course I want to.”

Jan smiled. “Let’s do it then.”

“Let’s do it,” Jackie confirmed.

[rosenallies]

Is it possible to get a follow up on the groupie prompt? There looks to be some potential for something. 👀

There always is something, isn’t there? 👀 thank u for sending this in!!

——

Rosé started to think Jan and Lagoona were right, that her feelings for Denali went deeper than just a good and familiar fuck. She started to crave the late night conversations and lazy kisses more than the taste of the other girl on her tongue. She tried to push the feelings away, but she found herself feeling sick to her stomach every time she didn’t answer Denali’s texts or calls right when she saw them.

She hated to admit Jan was right, but she had no choice.

“You were right,” she whined, throwing herself on the couch in Jan’s dressing room. Usually they spent this time before each show alone and preparing, but she was unable to focus, the words she needed to say swirling around in her brain and making everything feel foggy.

Jan looked at her through the mirror. “I usually am, but what about this time?”

“About Denali.”

“Yes! Lagoona owes me $20!”

Rosé rolled her eyes. “Fuck off, you two had a bet about when I’d admit my feelings?”

“Pretty much,” she said with a shrug.

“I hate you,” she exasperated, rubbing a hand over her face, “now what do I do?”

“You obviously have to tell her. Don’t pretend you don’t know that.”

“I can’t,” Rosé replied, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

Jan turned around to face her. “Why can’t you tell her?”

Jan’s voice was soft, making Rosé’s chest ache. “Because, you know how it is! We can’t even go out to dinner without it being front cover of a magazine the next day. And I already have this fucking reputation where everyone thinks I’m some womanizer or something. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

Nodding along, Jan understood. “Honey, just talk to her. Tell her how you feel and then tell her what you’re afraid of.”

“But we can never have a normal relationship,” Rosé protested.

Jan scoffed. “What’s normal anyway? Look, Jackie and I navigated it and we got through it, so did Lagoona and her husband. You deserve to find love too, Rosie, regardless of what some nameless people on Twitter have to say.”

“I know, but I could never forgive myself if someone hurt her,” she whispered.

Squeezing her hand, Jan looked at her sympathetically. “Then tell her that.”

Rosé wiped the tears that threatened to fall away. “Thanks, Jan. I love you, you know.”

Jan waved her off with a laugh. “I know, I love you too. Now go get ready, look extra pretty because you’re gonna talk to your girl after, okay?”

“Okay,” Rosé agreed, heading back to her own dressing room, a newfound confidence boosting her step.

——

The show went well, Rosé’s good mood being spurred on by Denali’s face in the front row, smiling up at her. Rosé even made it a point to make eye contact with her throughout the acoustic part of their set, slowing it down with love songs.

After, Rosé couldn’t keep her hands from shaking as she wiped away her makeup and changed into more comfortable clothes. What if Denali didn’t feel the same way? But god forbid, what if she did? Why if she did and everything that Rosé feared came true? She didn’t stop worrying until she walked outside, the cool air hitting her face and Denali leaning against the wall like she always did.

“Hey, can we go back to the bus?” Rosé suggested.

The brunette chuckled. “Someone’s eager tonight,” Denali joked.

Denali’s lighthearted demeanor made Rosé feel lighter, the whole reason Rosé was so nervous in the first place was because of moments like these. Moments that made feelings bloom in her chest.

Denali wordlessly followed her into the bus, the door shutting behind them.

“So, what are you planning on doing with me tonight?” Denali said, wrapping her arms around Rosé’s neck.

Rosé kissed her gently, her hand caressing the side of Denali’s face. She pulled away, only to rest their foreheads together.

Denali felt her heart flutter in her chest, the tenderness of Rosé’s movements reminding her of the feelings she was running from.

“Nali, I have to tell you something.”

Ignoring the way the nickname seemed to come so easily out of Rosé’s mouth, Denali nodded. “Okay, what is it?”

Rosé took a deep breath. “I have feelings for you.”

Denali’s breath hitched in her throat. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, so she stood there, mouth agape.

“Say something, anything. Please,” Rosé pleaded.

“Rosé I-, I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Denali twisted out of her grip and took off out the door, not looking back.