#she wears six inch heels and can run in them

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

This is based on my ‘Party Girl Izumi with IiDeku’ tags by @dark-elf-writes

Yes. This is legit what happens. Tenya just saved someone his age while she was trashed from a night out, she flirted heavily and left. He went home after his insomnia walk to try and get rest for his first day at UA Univesity.

And there, looking like she wasn't three sheets to the wind, is the girl he saved. She's wearing a tight tank top, a skirt and a pair of knee high boots as she taps away at her phone.

Not only is she there and fully functional but she demolishes half the class when it comes time for their Quirk Assessment. She has red lipstick, dark eye shadow and brings the pain.

Tenya is impressed, confused and a little intrigued.

(He will get eaten alive but man what a ride)

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ it’s a love story ] t. zegras

pairing : Trevor Zegras x fem!reader

summary : Trevor goes with his girlfriend to Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour when it comes to LA, and he has a surprise in his pocket when “Love Story” is played

warning(s) : none

author’s note : i keep seeing tiktoks of proposals during love story and i couldn’t not write a lil fic featuring the nhl’s resident swiftie so enjoy this probably cliche filled story that i couldn’t resist writing anymore

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This show has been something she and Trevor have been looking forward to since they both sat on their respective Ticketmaster accounts for almost 24 hours in November. She basically went through war for the general admission tickets she somehow managed to get. It was worth the wait and the hundreds of dollars she spent.

She went all out for her outfit. A short pink dress that is covered in glitter with matching heels pairs well with the pink makeup look that she decided on while she was doing her makeup. Her hair is curled with pink gems scattered throughout her locks. Trevor wasn’t sure how he felt about it but the look as grown on him in the hour or so since he first saw it.

The two of them get to SoFi Stadium at two in the afternoon with multiple water bottles in hand since it’s early August in Los Angeles. She wasn’t going to get there super early but didn’t want to get there super late either.

Of course, she made a bunch of bracelets so she trades with people while waiting in line to get in. The VIPs go in early then they go in about an hour later. She runs as fast as she can to find a good spot on the floor. Trevor is right behind her.

They end up near at the point of the diamond part of the stage but about fifteen rows of people back. It’s still a good spot despite getting to the arena at two instead of six in the morning. She’s very happy with where they end up.

Trevor stands behind her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders while they wait for the show to start. Gayle opens for Taylor Swift and the set lasts about 45 minutes or so. She vibes with the music, but gets so excited when it’s between sets.

Her boyfriend kisses the top of her head and asks close to her ear, “Are you excited? Nervous? Both?”

“So so excited,” she tells him as she looks up at him. Despite the heels, she still has a disadvantage when it comes to height. Trevor is six foot, but she’s five-foot-six with two inch heels on. “Thank you for coming with me. It means a lot to me.”

Trevor smiles and says, “Wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.” She raises her eyebrows because she knows a handful of people that he would want to come to the Eras Tour with. “Okay, you and Jamie are the only people I’d want to be here with. And maybe Cole but I’m here with you and I’m happy to be here with you.”

She spins in his arms and wraps her arms around his torso. He’s wearing a button up but only half the buttons are actually buttoned. She gets makeup on the exposed part of his chest and feels his cool chain against her cheek until she pulls back.

The clock pops up on the screen and everyone, including her, loses their minds. Trevor lets her go so she can freely dance and sing as the Lover era begins. She gets very into “The Man” since it’s her favorite off of the Lover album.

As soon as the Fearless era begins, she pulls out her phone so she can make sure to get Trevor singing “You Belong With Me” when she plays it after “Fearless”. He tries to block the camera when she puts it on him but she does end up getting Trevor singing the song. She makes a mental note to send it to Jamie and Cole after the show.

“Love Story” plays next and she records Taylor singing it while Trevor drapes his arms around her waist. She sings along to the song.

The song slows for the bridge and she sways in Trevor’s arms. He presses a kiss to her temple as the bridge transitions to the chorus for the last time. She feels him let her go as Taylor sings “Is this in my head? I don’t know what to think”.

Only the crowd around her begins to scream and turn their recording phones toward her as “He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, and said” is sung. She turns around to find Trevor Zegras on one knee with a box in his hand.

In the box is a diamond ring.

Her hands fly to her mouth as Trevor sings along with Taylor on stage. She immediately begins to nod her head yes to accept the proposal as tears that she didn’t know were in her eyes roll down her cheeks.

Trevor stands up and takes the ring out of the box. He slides it into her left ring finger before she flings her arms around Trevor’s neck. He leans down and presses a deep but quick kiss to her lips. She cups his jaw as she kisses him back.

“I can’t believe you proposed to me during ‘Love Story’,” she comments without pulling back too far. “God, you’re such a romantic.”

He smiles. “You know you were thinking about it when we got tickets,” he replies. “I went out and got the ring the week after you secured the tickets. If I was ever going to propose to you, it was going to be at the Eras Tour.”

She leans up to press one more peck to his lips before she looks at the ring on her hand. It’s simple but it has enough sparkle to it. She never wanted a large diamond on her ring whenever she got engaged and Trevor knew it.

The rest of the show feels like an intense fever dream. It is probably the best day of her life. Well, it’s probably tied with Trevor getting drafted in 2019 but still. It’s one of the most important days of her life.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

yourusername

liked by jamie.drysdale, trevorzegras and 76,892 others

yourusername baby i said ‘yes’ 💍🤍

view all 1,989 comments

colecaufield THIS IS WHY I DIDNT GET INVITED ISNT IT

fan1 lmaooo cole

jamie.drysdale jesus cole

yourusername sorry coley

fan2 TREVOR IS ENGAGED ??? HOLY FUCK

fan3 he’s all grown up 😩

jackhughes the FUCK ???

yourusername hi jack

jamie.drysdale my favorite people. congratulations !! (it’s abt time @ trevor)

yourusername love you jimmy 🫶🏼

trevorzegras thanks for keeping my secret bud

trevorzegras you’re my entire heart. forever 🤍

yourusername and ever 🤍

_quinnhughes congrats !!

anaheimducks Congratulations to the future Mr. and Mrs. Zegras !! 🧡

fan4 mrs. zegras is insane

fan5 alexa play that should be me by justin beiber

fan6 LMAOO 💀💀

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[actual-changeling]

hello and welcome back to angst time with alex, the series where i, alex, (hopefully) cause everyone severe emotional pain for funsies!

have a pre-arcadia ficlet because "you're making this personal" has been bouncing around my brain like a screensaver all day.

tagging @today-in-fic

———

You're making this personal.

Did she make it personal? Did she really? Even more than three weeks later, she still cannot answer her own question.

It had been personal, that much she knows for certain, no matter how much Mulder might try to deny it; the past is not what is spinning a web in her mind. 'Making' implies it hadn't been personal before, and Scully thinks about love confessions surrounded by chlorine and disinfectant, high school reunions, and a Christmas filled with ghosts.

If none of that had been personal, if all of it had been, what, professional? The mere idea feels like nails scratching on a chalkboard, fundamentally wrong and against everything she knows—everything she thought she knew, anyway. Doubts are infecting her heart and festering within her blood, a poison that can only be purged the same way it was injected.

Fault lines are tearing apart the ground underneath her feet, and in the aftermath of the earthquakes they lived through, she is still waiting for new tremors to appear. Meanwhile, Mulder is flipping through their newly assigned Arcadia files and cracking sunflower seeds between his teeth.

Every discarded shell is another foot of earth breaking away, another inch of dark nothingness added to the ever-growing chasm separating them.

You're making this personal.

Maybe she did, just like he did in the hallway right outside his apartment, and her skin itches with the need to get up to try to run away and away and away. 

Simply to see if he will let her disappear this time. If he will grab her wrist and make it personal again. If he will force her to listen to a door slam shut behind her back as she questions the last six years of their partnership.

Another sunflower seed cracks open, another imperceptible flinch runs through her fingertips.

A matching set of rings is glinting between them on the desk, fitted to their hands, and, somehow, she knows Mulder will make it more than personal. He never not made it personal, not when he started all the way back in Bellefleur, not almost a month ago, surrounded by the Lone Gunmen and despair.

Scully feels the weight of his gaze and resists the urge to snap at him; she can practically hear him attempt to profile her. She doubts he will get it right any time soon.

"How about Rob and Laura?"

A day of fake names and faker marriage stories flung across the office, a day of heavy silence and jokes she left hanging in the air. She considers throwing the file in his face and going home. She considers starting a fight and pushing his buttons until he gets angry enough to be mean to her. Again. Until one of them slips up and speaks the name that's dangling above them like the blade of their personal guillotine.

Until he tries to make it personal, because it isn't—not anymore, not the way it was, and they both know it.

Instead, she flips to the next page and crosses her legs; she is wearing too much black and hasn't touched a skirt in two weeks. Familiar armour made of fabric and shadows, of heels, frantic sidesteps to avoid his touch, and the refusal to meet his eyes.

Mulder jokes and pushes because that's who he is. Scully lets him because the ghost of them refuses to dissipate, lingering in the corners of every room they're in.

Because the true lie of personal interest is all they have left.

"Sure, fine." Her voice sounds faint and hollow, and another sunflower seed shell hits the desk like a gunshot. "Whatever."

[the-head-ancho-chilli]

Demon Slayer Characters and if I Think They Can Walk in Heels

I SWEAR IM NOT DEAD

Now that I’ve moved into my new place, I’m just trying to get some stuff sorted out so apologies for the delay, I swear I’m working on your requests T_T

In the meantime, here’s this post that I finished a few days ago that I started during finals season

Enjoy!

Word count: 1.4k~

Part 1 (you're here!), Part 2 (coming soon), Part 3 (coming soon)

Modern au-ish...

Mitsuri Kanroji

She doesn't really wear heels unless she's going out somewhere

Mitsuri will wear heels if you take her to a club, a date, a restaurant, and any other nicer event

But honestly, she prefers running shoes!

They're convenient, comfortable, and they tend to match their outfits more often than not

Do not get me wrong, Mitsuri can definitely rock a pair of heels

I would say that the highest she can go is six inch heels and that's it

Anymore than that and she's wobbling

Mitsuri's favourite pair of heels is a knee high gladiator sandal that's all gold, and maube about 4-5 inches high?

It pairs lovely with her favourite dresses and skirts, especially when she's going out of her way to turn a few heads

I also think that she's the most graceful out of everyone here

Overall 9/10 she absolutely slays this

Obanai Iguro

He thinks it's stupid that he needs to clarify this at all

Can Obanai walk in heels? Without a doubt

Your next question should be if Obanai chooses to wear heels

And shockingly, he does

I think that Obanai will sometimes wear a two inch loafer heel just for some added height

Hella confident in them too, look at him go

Obanai will totally wear them to work, class, or anywhere he feels like putting on a little bit of effort into what he's wearing

I think on more fancier occasions, like a high end date or club, he might wear some pointed toe stilettos with a nice pair of slacks

Honestly he's not really one to exclude heels from his wardrobe, he's just weirded out by how fascinated people are on this topic

8/10, nailed it

Tengen Uzui

Do I think Tengen can wear heels? I know for a fact he can

But I just think that he never does because he can never find any in his size

Poor guy

To be fair, this man is fucking huge

I even have problems finding boots that fit my calves, deep down in my heart I know that Tengen has it so much worse

Cause even if he manages to find something that fits his foot, it might not fit the rest of his leg

He's actyally really devestated about it

All he wants is a nice pair of pumps to match Hina, Suma and Makio

And maybe a pair of lobster claws...

3/10, a slay in theory but not in practice

I WILL GIVE HIM THIS, if he manages to pay for a custom pair of heels, he will probably rival with Mitsuri in who looks the best in heels

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He says he can walk in heels

But I assure you, he cannot

I think that Sanemi is lowkey intimidated by the results of the other Hashira on this list and now he's in too deep to back down

So when asked if he can wear heels, he will lie to your face

"Obviously, you think I'm gonna allow a pair of shoes to get the best of me?"

Sanemi, you've got a big storm coming

All his machoness goes away the second that he puts them on

Why is he walking with his knees out...

He's not even wearing stilettos, no

Sanemi's wearing three inch cork wedges

They don't really suit his style so he'll never go out of his way to wear them

I think after embarassing himself like this, he's never going to want to learn how to walk in them

-2/10 Sanemi you fucked around and found out huh

Shinobu Kocho

Can absolutely strut in six inch heels no problem

I think that Shinobu wears heels often, especially if she's going to be out in public where she is certain she's going to encounter someone she knows

But I don't think she enjoys wearing them

In some way I think Shinobu wears heels on a semi-daily basis to compensate for her short stature

She wants to be on equal standing with others and in a way, this is her way fo tring to achieve that

Two inch boots aren't going to stop her from being taken seriously

She does try to find some light in her circimustance though

Her favourite pair are these cute mary janes, and she has another pair with a platform sole

So even if you see her wearing heels, please don't mistake that she finds them powerful to wear

It's more of a social thing really

7/10, I wish she had a better experience :/

Kyojuro Rengoku

I am going to say this as nicely as I can

Please be patient with him, he's learning T_T

He can still get to where he needs to go, he just looks a little unstable???

Kyojuro would really appreciate if you held his hand a little

Though I will say, he is enthusiastic about learning!

In a few months he can probably walk just fine in them

I don't think that he would wear them to work or on a date, but he might if he's going to a particular event where you try to look better than usual

Like a high end club or exclusive event, he'll probably wear something classy

I think his go to is wither a pair of corset heels or high blocks

Obanai is lowkey jealous because Kyojuro doesn't really need the extra hight

4/10, keep up the hard work :)

Giyu Tomioka

My first instinct was to immediately put Giyu on the 'Not Allowed' list

A hunch just told me that he would somehow cause more trouble if he wore any

But I considered it further and came to this conlcusion

Giyu can and will walk in heels, just nothing above three inches

He tried walking in four inch platforms and he was nearly tripping every two minutes

And if Tengen sees him exiting his apartment wearing them again he will not hesitate to put those things back where they came from

Giyu does like wearing heels though, even if he's not allowed to wear very high ones

Only wears them if he's going to a club though

His favourite pair is a professional looking pair of blue, beige and black slingbacks with a three inch heel

5/10, but he's walking on thin ice

Gyomei Himejima

I don't think that Gyomei could walk in heels smoothly, but he can certainly get from point A to B

He just can't do it gracefully

If Gyomei walks in heels, he won't ever admit that he's struggling and he'll insist that he's walking just fine

But he has his arms outstretched like he's walking on a tightrope

It's honestly just not his thing, and I don't think he would be able to incorporate it with his current wardrobe

Even if he had the desire to learn, I think he would hear the struggle that Tengen's going through and just give up

He already has to go on a lengthy search to find anything to fit him regularly, let alone a pair of heels

2/10 I can't say I would recommend this for him, no

Muichiro Tokito

You know those pictures of kids wearing their mom's heels?

And their foot barely fits in the shoe?

And they just look so awkwardly out of place?

That's Muichiro

Poor baby

I think he has some growing to do before he's going to learn how to walk in them

But Muichiro definitely wants to learn!

Given how his sense of style is usually baggy or loose fitting clothes, I can see him maybe going to Obanai for style advice in the future

Probably nothing high or flashy either, just probably a pair of classy heeled boots

I just don't think it's for him right now, at his current stature

Muichiro just looks a little bit out of place in them right now though...

1/10, maybe when you're a bit older buddy

꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚ ꒷꒦˚︶︶꒦꒷︶꒷꒦˚

Thanks for reading! I have two more parts of this prompt with the slayers and demons so I should be sending that out in a while. I’m also working on a Kyojuro request and I’m hoping to have it out soon, so stay tuned lovelies ^^

Also thank you all for 200 followers, I swear I’ll work harder so I can post more often! I’ll be working on some requests in the meantime :)

Asks and requests are still open, just please read the rules before submitting anything ;)

[slippinmickeys]

Five paragraph prompt:

As they’re unwinding after a case, Mulder becomes preoccupied with watching how a man across a diner / restaurant / bar is eyeing Scully. Earlier seasons (or before FTF, anyway) so that there’s a more buttoned-up MSR vibe, maybe.

It’s odd, he thinks, how he’s never really noticed the sway of her hips.

Okay, he’s noticed, but he hasn’t looked. Not like the guy at their 10 o’clock is looking. Watching as Scully sashays back to their table, her clompy heels scuffing along the floor with a gritty, salacious rasp.

It’s summer in the District. Her foundation has long since been sweated off, revealing a beauty mark above her lip, maybe freckles, and in the heat of the field, she’d shucked off her suit coat and was now wearing only a sleeveless silk blouse, one so sheer that Mulder (and the guy at the bar, no doubt) could make out the shape of her bra, the soft globes of her breasts pillowing out slightly above the cups.

Scully against the backdrop of over-varnished, sticky tables. Scully moving through the chessboard cones of bad light. Mulder can’t look away either.

The guy turns his body in a complete 180 so that he can follow her progress, and something ignites inside Mulder’s chest. But he can’t move. He can’t so much as intimate any kind of possessive impression or Scully would pin him with a glare so intense his ball hair would try to climb back into his scrotum. It’s not like that with them.

“Evenin’ y’all,” says a voice as Scully slides back into their booth, and they both look up to see Bar Guy himself, hovering at the edge of their of their table. That was quick, Mulder thinks. “I have a bet with my buddy over there that y’all aren’t together.”

The man’s hair is very shiny and his teeth are very straight. Mulder bets he’s the kind of guy who puts his seat back the second the flight attendant sits down for takeoff. In any event, he sounds like Foghorn Leghorn, which Mulder assumes is performative. Do people from Virginia even have southern accents? Not in his experience, though Alexandria’s not exactly deep in the state.

“Kind of a circuitous way of asking if I’m her boyfriend,” Mulder says, though Scully is wearing a small, beatific smile. Mulder smiles at the guy, too. But it’s more of a that’s nice, off you fuck kind of smile.

“Are you?” Foghorn asks hopefully.

Mulder looks to his partner, seeing where she’d like to go with the question. He’d posed as her beau before; sometimes it was just easier to fend off suitors that way, especially if she was tired.

“No,” Scully says, kindly. “But I’m not in the market.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Foghorn smiles before walking away, inclining his head politely at Scully. Even Mulder is a little charmed by the guy’s bravado.

“You have to admire the lack of subtlety,” Mulder says, his eyes following the man as he collects both his sport coat and his buddy, disembarking to search for a more target-rich port.

“Do you?” Scully asks dubiously. She’s looking at the table, occupying herself by running her finger along the rim of her wine glass. The tone her wet finger brings forth is as rich as a ripe plum.

“In and out in under ninety seconds,” Mulder points out. “Better than standing there stammering for five minutes like the last six guys.”

“You make it sound like this happens all the time.”

“It does.”

Scully makes a dismissive gesture.

Mulder thinks just then that every single man they meet either wants to kiss her or kill her, but he’s not dumb enough to say it. Instead he downs the last of his beer.

“You ready to get out of here?” he asks.

“Not yet,” she says, gesturing about six inches beyond his left shoulder. “There’s a queue of GS-12’s waiting to ask for my hand.”

Mulder can’t help but turn to genuinely look, which earns him Scully’s charming squawk of laughter, the one she rarely trots out. When he turns back to her, she’s already sliding out of the booth and grabbing her coat.

She looks up at him as he stands up beside her and pokes him in the chest.

“Not every man in this bar wants to jump me,” she says, a teeny, tiny bit drunk.

“Nah, you’re right,” Mulder answers, his own cheeks warm with drink. “Only one or two of them do.”

He realizes, only as the words cross his tongue, that the call is coming from inside the house.

[sebsallowapologist]

Little Bird || Part I

This was up on AO3 for a bit- but I’ve done more writing and I’m going to be posting more chapters, so I thought I’d edit it to be more reader / MC instead of an OC (I feel like Tumblr likes that more but lmk!) Little outtakes from the trio’s last year at Hogwarts <3 

Sebastian Sallow x F! Reader • 7th Year • Friends to Lovers

warnings: none for now- I’ll update if future chapters get a little 🌶 First one is a little short but they get longer. 

Over the summer before her seventh year MC has really come into her own. Figured out how to do her hair, dress to accentuate her favorite features, and finally looks like a full grown woman, instead of child. It seems like everyone has noticed - everyone except her crush best friend Sebastian Sallow.

She tries to deal with her deepening feelings, loosing control of her ancient magic and feeling like she’s not ready to leave Hogwarts.

________________________________

I hadn’t gotten farther than throwing my trunk down next to my bed before I turned on my heel and ran out of the Ravenclaw dormitories.

I come around the corner, bolting for the stairs that will lead me out of the Astronomy tower when I smack head first into Everett, who reaches his arms out to grip my shoulders and steady me before I hit the floor from the force.

“Woah there now.” He laughs, giving me a once over while keeping his hands on my shoulders. “In a rush already? It’s barely the first day of the term.”

I tuck my hair behind my ear and back up a few steps as I answer him, his hands falling off my shoulders as I walk away, backwards toward my escape. “Yeah, Yep. Got plans.”

“What about later? We can catch up from summer over a butterbeer? Three broomsticks, yeah?”

“Uh yeah I’m sure I’ll see you there.” I laugh a little awkwardly, wincing as I turn around. I was willing to say anything to get out of the common room, but I wish I hadn’t left the door open for the butter beer. Truth be told I’ve never really liked Everett. Not after I saw him bully another student in my first year here. Giving him a mean nickname and refusing to let it drop. I’ve done some things I’m not proud of, but teasing people for something they can’t control is just cruel. I’d always had the feeling he didn’t particularly like me either- or really remember I existed.

“Well I was thinking we could make a specific time, and meet there.”

crap.

I take a few more steps back and plaster on a polite smile.

“I’ll talk to you later!” I wave as I break back into my run, stepping down the stairs I knew all too well, using the bannister to swing my body around the corners and keep my speed up. I burst through the door and only have to take a few steps before I come to a screeching halt. Because I see him. 

Him. 

Sebastian is leaning against the wall, always the picture of nonchalance. He’s not yet wearing his shapeless robes, a thin sweater clinging to the muscles that has gotten even more pronounced over the summer. For Merlin’s sake how did that happen? 

Ominis stands straight next to his slouched friend, I feel like he had a few more inches on him now too.

It was so good to see them together as friends again, hanging out without me orchestrating it. It had taken me all of year six, but finally they were on good terms, and I was quite looking forward to no longer playing referee.

He catches me staring- and when we lock eyes a brilliant smile spreads across Sebastian’s face, freckles crinkling around his eyes. I break back into my run, faster than ever and he pushes himself off the wall to catch me in a hug, spinning me around twice in the air before setting my feet back down on the stone floor. “Hi little bird.” he smiles and all I can do is smile back up at him. “Did you have a good trip in? Hogwarts Express gave you no trouble, right darling?” I nodded.

He of course didn’t have to ask how my summer was, there wasn’t a week where we didnt send owls back and forth. “Don’t hog her.” Ominis smiles, opening his arms for a hug.

I wrap my arms around him and bounce on my toes, trying my very best to contain my excitement. “I missed you both so much, life was terribly boring without you.”

“Your life? Terribly boring? I know you get up to trouble whenever you can, don’t lie.” Ominis laughed and I pat his cheek. “Are we going for food? Hogsmeade? What are we doing?” I ask.

“Well I vote we get obviously drunk at the three broomsticks, wanter around hogsmeade and come back to generally terrorize year ones, it’s our job since we’re year seven now.” Sebastian smirks, cracking his knuckles for his ever present dramatic effect.

I smack his chest, fighting the urge to not run my hand over the soft sweater. “Stop it’s their first year they’re probably already scared out of their wits. Besides, we have the feast in a few hours.”

“Ominis already made one cry.”

“Listen! He stepped in my way, we almost took a tumble down the stairs-”

Ominis recounts his story as we start walking down the hallway. Sebastian walks next to me, and his arm rests over my shoulders. “Ah- I missed you little bird.” He mumbles in my ear as Ominis tells his story.

“I missed you too.” I whisper and he kisses the top of my head.

[hp-hcs]

Not really a request but holy crap your nb blaise fic was absolutely amazing hell yeah ill integrate that into my belief system. Do you have any other hcs about that bc it's super cool

(more) nonbinary! blaise zabini headcanons — a (sort of) part two to my fic uniforms

there’s a lot, so i’ve divided them up into sections and subsections

also i’m tired and it’s late if there are any typos shhh no there aren’t

~ 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 ~

they’re better at makeup than you, hands down

isn’t blaise like canonically (aka, the actor) 6’3”? well anyways, they wear heels. they don’t need them, but they own six inch stilettos and won’t miss a step. absolutely strutting on the moving stairs while everyone watches like “how the fuck—”

(if you ask why they wear them, their answer will always be “so i can step on men, duh”)

~ ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥 ~

• mrs. zabini •

their mom is hella supportive!!!

one of her definitely-not-murdered ex-husbands mysteriously went missing after making some joke at blaise’s expense

no, mr. auror, i haven’t a clue how my husband ended up at the bottom of the black lake with the word ‘transphobe’ magically carved into his forehead what that’s crazy

• slytherin squad™️ •

draco: shouts “i knew it!!!!” and runs off to go get his money from whoever he bet against

theo: could not give less of a fuck. i kinda hc theo as being fluid or at least apathetic to their own gender, so it’s all love & support over here!!

mattheo: needs it explained a couple times, but once he gets it, he never messes up their pronouns and will fight any bitch who does

pansy: absolute queen. she will d r a g them to diagon alley to go shopping with her and will buy them their first personal makeup palette. we stan.

enzo: already knew. knew like, two years ago. when they come out, he’s just like, “oh!! i’m so happy you finally figured it out!! i’ve been waiting for you to say something for ages!!!!”

• adults •

dumbledick: completely ignores their pronouns bc all slytherins are evil and he’s definitely not biased or anything

snape: is an asshole about it.

voldemort: would be like 🧍‍♂️“ok but ur still one of my death eaters right?”

narcissa: does that one fake polite smile and nod that every white mom is capable of. “how lovely, dear.”

bellatrix: man, bitch is crazy. who even knows

tonks: AGGRESSIVELY supportive

• golden trio (& co.) •

harry: gets into an argument with the slytherins and calls blaise “he”. draco’s ready to beat his ass, but blaise just calmly explains their gender identity and harry apologizes, then goes back to arguing with them, ✨respectfully✨.

ron: (what no i’m definitely not a blairon shipper shut up) immediately switches to strictly gender-neutral language and goes out of his way to ask them what terms/compliments/etc they’re comfortable being called.

hermione: hot take! i hc her as a closeted lesbian with internalized homophobia, and i think she’d try to make an argument about “bUt ThEy iS pLuRaL”.

neville: cutie pie!! he just nods and is like “okay! 🥹🌱”

ginny: doesn’t give a fuck. blaise is on the slytherin quidditch team, and damn if you think she isn’t going to do everything in her power to continue trying to beat them

luna: sagely nods like it was obvious. “oh, the nargles already told me.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

comments are always appreciated!! the author thrives off encouragement, like a toddler being given a gold star sticker!!!

[thelampisaflashlight]

Finally made that "angel" oc.

Notes below the cut.

-Her name is Alma and she works as a caretaker for a haunted church, and resides on the property.

-Alma grew up attending a megachurch with her parents, who fell hard into the idea that they could buy their way into heaven, to the extent that they drained Alma's entire college fund making donations to the church.

As a result, Alma has a generally negative view of religion as a whole, which leads to the question... how is she an angel if she's agnostic at best?

Simple answer; She's not.

As a teenager, she developed a "miraculous gift", which enabled her to commune with the dead, one which her parents took full advantage of in order to gain a higher social status in their church, and people started calling her an angel, and, well, the title stuck until she graduated high school and got the hell out of her small town and far the fuck away from the people she grew up around.

-Alma's casual wear tends to be like the outfit she's pictured in above, with her dressing more practically for work and business related things, but she generally prefers things that are fairly cutesy and/or sexy, usually in pink.

-She can run in heels on grass, and has, on more than one occasion, chased down people ghost hunting in the attached graveyard without permission before, and there's something uniquely terrifying about a woman in six inch heels sprinting after you because you're making too much noise after hours.

-Alma got her current job because she most of the people who had the position before her got scared away, and the folks who hired her half expected her to quit the same day, but she's stuck it out for... Mn, ten years now?

Yeah, turns out ghosts are less freaky when you realize 1.) They can't hurt you, and 2.) You saw them trying to be all mysterious and scary knocking shit over and were able to physically grab them and yell at them for fucking up your hard work.

And lastly;

-The church she works for is actually owned by the ministry, so occasionally clergy members show up and they never seem prepared for the cute receptionist lady with pink glitter eyeshadow to suddenly grab a shovel and go, "Right, cool, you fill out your paperwork and shit, I have to go dig a hole because somebody won't pay for a fucking backhoe."

...She is to be feared.

[writingsofwesteros]

"Aunty Nowa!" Aenar clapped his little hands. "Ball!" He excitedly watched her play tennis with Jace, as Saera dozed in her carrier and Baelon sat on his Mama's lap as she chatted with Sara. "That's right my love!" Nora blew him a kiss. "So, how long have you and Jace been official?" Daella asked Sara kindly. "About six months," Sara told her. "That's so cute," Daella smiled. Baelon smiled shyly at Sara. "He's been so great, honestly. And your family's been great too." Sara said. "How was Rhaenyra when you met her?" "She was really nice...at first she was a bit hesitant. Your mom's super nice too, I think Alicent helped her warm up to me the first time." Sara explained.

"Harwin's coming down this weekend for Jace's birthday, I hear," Daella said. "Are you excited to meet him?" Sara glanced at Nora on the court, then Jace before she said, "Yea, I uh...Can I ask you something?" "Of course," Daella reached forward to adjust the little hat on Saera's head. "Jace mentioned that Harwin and your sister..." Daella giggled. "Oh, yes I heard about that when I got home from boarding school. It's true." She confirmed. "And it's not weird for Jace at all?" "Not really, I mean it can't be when he and Nora-" Daella blushed. "Oh- Oh." Sara glanced between the two as her boyfriend served another ball. She looked at Nora, who hit the ball with her racket, wearing nothing but a tiny skirt and a tank top in the heat.

"You think she's pretty don't you?" Daella asked. Sara blushed. "Oh, I-" "Don't worry about it," Daella reassured her. "Jace won't be mad. And honestly, I'm not surprised. I love Nora to death but it's insane that I've never met someone who isn't attracted to her. I mean literally never."

"You should tell him," Daella said. "After all...you never know what it might lead to. You should talk to Robyn- she and Nora are pretty good friends, she can confirm any...fantasies you might have."

"C'mon Jacey, I can make better serves wearing heels!" Nora teased Jace on the court, and Saera, who's just woken up, giggled and clapped her tiny hands. "That's actually true," Daella told Sara. "I've seen my sister play tennis in six inch Louboutins."

Aenar is the CUTEST! I just want them, they are so cute!! He will run across the pitch when he's bored and collect the balls thank you very much.

His laughter will wake Saera up and she's so grumpy!

[thebirdandthebee]

Easy As

A/N: I don’t know, I just liked this gif haha. I know we’re all pumped for JAW winning his first Golden Globe! This is lightly inspired after I got an ask for Carmy winning an award. This doesn’t have smut, but it is VERY fluffy! Also, no giveaways at gender of baby Berzatto if anyone has guesses :)

That being said, I am taking requests for this series again!

Vanessa Monaghan is the breath of fresh air that Carmen had been gasping for.

Page 29: Beard

“My love are you almost ready?” Vanessa called, putting in her diamond earrings as a finishing touch. She turned in the mirror to take in the final look. Though Carmen was insisting it wasn’t as big of a deal as she was making it out to be, Vanessa knew how big of a deal the James Beard Awards were.

Carmen was nominated for Best Chef: Great Lakes and if he won tonight, he’d be one of the few in history to win Best Emerging Chef and a Best Chef designation.

It was also a great reason to take a trip, with the awards taking place in New York – one of Vanessa’s favorite cities. Carmen had less fond memories of the Big Apple, but he was grateful Vanessa was here with him. Honestly, he’d much rather skip the event all together.

Vanessa sprung for a hair and makeup team to help put her together. After all, at six months pregnant, sometimes doing her hair took too much energy. Old Hollywood waves with kohl-lined eyes and red lips to top it all off would definitely be too much to do on her own. Just getting into her red velvet dress was effort enough. It was fitted across the middle to show off her baby bump with a sweetheart neckline, which Carmen appreciated as each passing months it felt like her breasts grew bigger and bigger.

“I need help with this thing,” she could hear him murmur as he walked back toward the bathroom suite.

“Carmen you look so handsome,” she smiled, clicking toward him in her heels that put her about two inches taller than him. Carmen looked up from the mangled bowtie around his neck and gave his wife the same look as when she walked down the aisle.

“Ness, you – you’re stunning,” he complimented. She was everything he’d ever dreamed of. As she stepped in his personal space to properly tie his bowtie, his hand slid naturally over her form, one landing on her waist the other on her baby bump.

“It might be silly of me to ask, but there is food at this thing, right?” She tilted her head.

“There’s not dinner,” Carmen shook his head. “There’ll be hors d’oeuvres but there ceremony itself is only an hour long. We can order some food up when we get back,” he assured.

“Good, we’re starving,” Vanessa said, sliding his bowtie into place. “God you look good in a tux,” she complimented, making him grin.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life,” he said earnestly, leaning forward to peck her lips just lightly enough that it wouldn’t muss her red lips.

“I love when you get to wear your real ring,” she said, holding his hand and running a finger across his gold wedding band, which was usually replaced by his silicone work bands. “Like it actually is making me a little horny,” she added, but then again, pretty much everything did in her second trimester.

“Really?” Carmen asked, brows pushing up his forehead.

“Come on, don’t let me tempt you – you have an award to win,” she said, “and our car should be here any moment.”

Carmen dutifully lead his wife, grabbing the car door and holding her hand as they pulled up to the historic theater the ceremony was being held inside.

“How do I look?” Vanessa asked, standing at the end of the red carpet.

“Incredible,” Carmen replied. “Ready?” He asked as the coordinator ushered them in front of the step and repeat. It wasn’t a crazy paparazzi-filled stretch, but there were a handful of photographers there.

Vanessa stayed close to Carmen who proudly placed his left hand on her baby bump.

“This is way more fun than walking at graduation,” Vanessa said, looking at her husband who smirked with a small laugh. She decided in that moment she’d buy each and every photo taken of them that night.

It was fun for Carmen to catch up and see some familiar faces from his days living in New York, at least, the ones he enjoyed seeing.

He knew he wasn’t going to win Best Chef tonight anyway, so he just wanted to make sure that Vanessa enjoyed the evening and there was nothing more she loved than meeting new people.

“When are you due?” Miles Regent, a chair member of the foundation who awarded Carmen his first James Beard medal six years ago asked.

“Valentine’s Day,” Carmen replied proudly.

“Congratulations, Carmen, seems like you’ve got it all,” Miles, an older man with a perfectly groomed beard winked.

“I do,” Carmen countered, smiling as he remembered his fortune.

“Baby, do you know where we’re sitting?” Vanessa asked as the lights in the theater dimmed as a warning.

“Uh yeah, they put the nominees in a specific spot,” he said, looking around for the signage.

“I can’t wait to take these shoes off,” Vanessa said as she walked alongside her husband, who found their table and pulled out her chair.

“Want me to get you a bite to eat quick?” He offered, to which she nodded with complete adoration in her eyes. Carmen darted off toward the refreshments as music began to play, and by the time he came back with a small plate of pregnancy-friendly treats, Vanessa had already made friends with everyone else at their table.

Carmen took the time used by the presenters to talk about the Foundation and history of the awards to study Vanessa’s hand that he kept in his lap. He admired her wedding ring, her freshly manicured nails and the little veins that ran from her palm up her arm. He also was glad to take a bite of any of the hors d’oeuvres she couldn’t finish for one reason or another. He thought the food was actually pretty spectacular and made a note to as Miles who catered the event. How do you pick a caterer for a room full of the best chefs in America?

Then, the awards began. Best Emerging Chef, Outstanding Chef, Outstanding Restaurant... and on and on. Vanessa was making a mental list of all the places she wanted to visit after baby arrived.

Before they knew it, they were calling the category Carmen was nominated in was being presented. His division included chefs from Illinois, Indiana, Michigan and Ohio.

“The 2024 Best Chef: Great Lakes is Carmen Berzatto,” the presenter read off the card. Vanessa’s head whipped around to face her husband who looked equally as stunned. He impulsively stood up, his legs acting on their own accord and Vanessa followed, giving him a big hug and a soft kiss to his cheek – both of them a little shocked.

“Get up there!” She giggled, eyes wide. He nodded, still in complete surprise. The presenter elaborated as he found his bearing.

Carmen Berzatto is only the second chef to be named both Best Emerging Chef and Best Chef in the history of the foundation.

Carmen made his way to the stage, standing at the podium as the medal was slipped around his neck. Now, he had to say something.

“Wow, not to sound cliché but I really was no expecting this,” his fingers grazed the medal which sat not too far below his collarbone. “Of course I would not be up where without the work of my amazing team at The Bear, it’s entirely a group effort,” he began. “When we changed my family’s restaurant over from what we’d been doing for fifty years to something entirely new, I don’t think in our wildest dreams we’d reach something like this,” he said honestly, “we mostly just needed to stay in business,” he added, earning a laugh from the crowd. Vanessa’s eyes flooded with tears. She was so proud of her husband she was sure she could take flight.

“This is entirely impossible without my beautiful wife who is patient, understanding, encouraging and supports me endlessly, no matter what,” he said, barely finding Vanessa’s gaze from under the stage lights. “I think anyone here can understand what it’s like in this industry and the demands it makes on us, but also our families, and she’s my partner in everything I do – there is no me without her.” Vanessa let out a wet laugh. “Thank you,” he said simply before being applauded off the stage.

As the next presenter took the stage for the final award of the night, Carmen appeared from beside the table, hastily taking his seat with his medal still around his neck. The moment he was settled in his seat, Vanessa pounced with a big, firm kiss.

“Carmen,” she said with wide eyes. “What just happened?” she whispered aggressively, a wild smile on her face.

“I have no idea,” Carmen whispered back, their hands clasped together. Thankfully, there was only one more award for the night and soon the ceremony came to a close. However, everyone wanted a piece of Carmen as the scheduled agenda wrapped up.

He did his best to accommodate those who approached him, shaking lots of hands and forgetting many names, but being as gracious as possible nonetheless. Soon, however, he could tell Vanessa was powering through and he wanted to get her back to the hotel.

Carmen, from across the room, encountered a familiar face. Not a friendly face, but familiar nonetheless. His former director who lived and died to make Carmen’s life fucking miserable.

He gave Carmen a smile, which was not returned. And as soon as Carmen made eye contact, he broke it again, ushering his wife out of the front door to where a car was already waiting to take them back to their hotel.

Vanessa let out a scream of excitement as soon as the car door closed behind Carmen.

“You did it!” She laughed, “Carmen! Congratulations!” She squeezed his hands in hers. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I can’t believe it,” he laughed, thoughts of his former director already banished from his mind.

“I can!” Vanessa insisted, scooting closer to him as the car pulled away from the theater. “I’m so happy for you, you earned this,” she said, kissing him again.

They bribed their driver to stop by a by-the-slice pizza spot where Carmen loaded up a box with all kinds of options and a fistful of cannoli.

“I don’t think it gets any better than this,” Vanessa smiled, laying back on their plush hotel bed in her plush hotel robe, double-fisting two pieces of pizza beside Carmen.

“I think it will get a little better,” Carmen reminded, sliding his hand over her belly.

“Okay, fair,” she giggled, making him smile. They shared a comfortable silence as they ate their pizza.

“Last time I won a James Beard,” Carmen spoke up. “I was so fucking miserable,” he said quietly, tearing off a piece of crust. “I was leaving Madison Park – not sleeping, living off of Xanax, cigarettes and kitchen scraps,” he listed off, Vanessa listening intently, slowly shifting to lay on her side and face him fully. “I hated waking up, hated going to work, hated leaving work, hated going to bed,” he tallied, “and I was sure that was as good as it was ever going to get. I was being rewarded for living the most miserable life.”

Vanessa reached over, resting her hand on his bicep.

“I guess I didn’t think I could do this while also being happy,” he said sincerely. “I meant what I said, Ness,” he scooted a little closer, turning so they were nestled closely, sharing a pillow. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been – sometimes I forget how hard shit was before you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Vanessa smiled softly.

“You’re a star, Carmen,” she replied gently. “I feel fortunate just to be in your galaxy,” she pecked his lips. “We love you so much,” she added, gently grasping his hand and setting it on the bump.

“You make all my dreams come true,” he said, thumb rubbing back and forth over her little belly.

“Do you know what would be a dream come true for me?” She asked, taking advantage of her captive audience. “If I can have that last cannoli.” Carmen laughed, loudly and carefree before acquiescing to his wife’s demand.

“Anything for you, Ness.”

[wandaluvstacos]

Chapter 33 of Good Investment is now up on my Patreon!

Good Investment is available at the $5/month tier. People who pledge $5 a month have access to not only Good Investment but The Sponsors series (ongoing), Pretty Things (complete), May the Blood Run Pure (complete), and Kept Man (complete), along with the $1/month tier books, the Reflections trilogy (ongoing) and The Halfwife (ongoing).

Adri Schvaneveldt has always felt split between two worlds. In one world, they are the adopted child of a large and conservative Mormon family. In another, she is the CEO of a burgeoning fashion empire that pushes boundaries. But in order to be the latter, Adri first has to find the funding. After gaining a hefty following as a social media influencer/model, Adri has the potential customers– if they can get a reliable production model pounded out. And that means a bit of groveling at the feet of investors, most of who have never even heard the term “non-binary”.

But Adri lucks out with Gideon Snow, whose youth and open mind bring much needed funds to make Adri’s dream of diverse, accessible fashion a reality. Of course, lifting a newborn company to its feet is no small task, and late nights drive Adri to occasional stays at Gideon’s nearby house, where their relationship begins stretching beyond business. Adri knows they can’t put an entire business venture at risk for the turbulent whims of their heart. But reason doesn’t always win out.

Excerpt:

Adri’s impractical six-inch heels didn’t do well on cobblestone, so at some point she took them off and carried them in a hand as she finished the rest of their journey to the room barefoot. Right before she pushed the door open, Gideon swung out an arm to stop her.

“What?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Because this is supposed to be a romantic vacation, I have to try something.”

“Like—oh!” Adri let out a surprised laugh as Gideon attempted to bend down and pick her up. But she was much heavier than she looked, and carrying her like a new bride into their hotel room proved much harder on his back and his ego than he’d predicted. Still, he did manage, and she seemed very amused and delighted by his attempt, which made it worth it.

“Easy peasy,” Gideon huffed, hoping he hadn’t pulled anything in his back. He was too old to be doing this shit.

“Consider me properly wooed,” Adri said, rubbing a hand over his arm. “You’re so cute.”

“Yeah, well.” He straightened with a wince. “That’s my job. You’re the smart successful business person, I’m the hot one. That’s the dynamic.”

Adri smoothed a hand over the collar of his shirt, smiling. “This smart successful business person is going to take a couple minutes to change into something more comfortable.”

“May I suggest five-inch heels?”

Adri knocked her shoes against his chest before stalking away. “If you don’t like me wearing the shoes, then maybe try not to stare at me so much when I wear them.” She looked at him over her shoulder with a smirk before vanishing into a bathroom.

“A couple minutes” turned into more like forty-five minutes, and Gideon was starting to wonder if Adri had drowned in a bathtub or something. He decided to go to the door and knock.

“You okay in there or do I need to call for an ambulance?” Gideon asked.

“One sec,” came Adri’s response.

“You said ‘a couple of minutes’ forty-five minutes ago so I’m starting to distrust your understanding of time. Was it something you ate?”

“Ew, Gideon, no, I’m just—two seconds, okay?”

“Oookay,” Gideon replied, then wandered back to the bed to twiddle his thumbs for a bit. It wasn’t two seconds, but it was a reasonable minute or so before the bathroom door opened and out walked Adri in the same heels she’d abandoned on the walk back to the hotel room, but the relatively conservative maroon dress was gone. In its place were thigh-high nylon stockings with garter straps and a garter belt, black underwear, and some kind of long and flowy black lace robe that was tightly affixed to her torso from the waist to her sternum but otherwise flowed out and away from her legs and arms. With a wily grin, she struck a pose with her back and one foot resting against the bathroom threshold, cocking a shoulder as she grabbed the bottom of her long robe and held it high like a tango dancer before tossing it away dramatically.

“Well? How does this smart successful business person look now?” Adri asked.

[screenmaven]

Film Share Sunday - with Banannasui

*update as of 10/27/23 I am no longer doing film shares do to a hectic time in my life, I do however appreciate anyone who has taken the time to join me in that spotlight. I may return to in the future, but for now I do not have time.*

I usually spotlight creators Top 5 Favorite Films each Sunday, via my SCREENMAVEN Instagram (now just starrymayx) but this week I welcome an extension of that to the blog. I love fashion probably as much as I love film, so it’s a two for one special when a film produces both.

I had the pleasure of connecting with one of my favorite fashion content creators Banannasui, and wanted to share her insight into why she highly acclaims these as her top 5 fashion films.

Charlie’s Angels (2000)

The 2000 Charlie’s Angels is fast-paced, flirty, lurid in both color and dialogue, and I feel like the outfits completely reflect that. The opening scene alone give us Cameron Diaz wearing the ultimate accessory that bridged the late 90s and early 00s: gradient sunglasses adorned with rhinestones (hers specifically were from Chloé). I remember reading that the costume designer had stacked up 3,000+ outfits for the movie, with each of the three girls having a wardrobe cultivated specifically for their character; Cameron is the all-American girl, Lucy is sophisticated and mature (her cooking muffins in a leather corset is amazing), and Drew is the scrappy rebel-type. Overall the movie is such a fun, campy feast for the eyes, but I think my absolute favorite outfits are the trio of glossy red white & blue jumpsuits they don on the racetrack.

The Bling Ring (2013)

God, it’s such a period piece of its time. A millennial’s period piece. The outfits aren’t ones I’d necessarily consider fashionable now, but (the year it came out) it was the pinnacle of it! The skinny jeans with pumps, the Uggs, the clunky jewelry, the scene of them walking out with their iced coffees wearing capes and vests and scarves and pencil skirts. All staples of that weird time period where office-chic infiltrated Polyvore boards. I love movies where the outfits are such a direct reflection of the person wearing them, it elevates the wearer to the point where you stop seeing them as the actor and start seeing them as the character. Especially when the one dressing them does their homework! Case in point, costume designer Stacey Battat said she bought every back issue of US Weekly from 2003 in preparation for dressing the cast, and then incorporated elements of the early 2010s as well, in order to make the time period of the movie feel more ambiguous. Although not included in the film, thinking of the outfits reminds me of a line from the famous Alexis Neiers phone call to Nancy Jo Sales: “..you saying that I wore six inch Louboutins heels to court with my tweed skirt, when I wore four inch little brown Bebe shoes.” It’s just so of its time.

Faster Pussycat! Kill Kill! (1965)

I love, love, love the outfits for Faster, Pussycat! It’s campy, visceral, with an appropriate amount of violence— you can see echoes of it in John Waters and Quentin Tarantino films (both of whom have cited the movie as inspiration). The outfits within the movie are very 60s, composed of simple shirts and jeans, yet are menacing, sexy, and striking. There’s no shortage of tight pieces and plunging necklines, yet the provocativeness doesn’t feel exploitative or demeaning. I like the idea of sex as armor in this movie, a notion expanded upon by Robert Ebert in a 1995 review. Despite the much exposed skin and cleavage, Ebert notes that the director, Russ Meyers, “from the beginning of his career and almost without exception, has filmed only situations in which women wreak their will upon men.” The trio of intimidating women in this film constantly leave behind a streak of havoc, literally snapping men’s spines and running them over with cars. They do all this whilst donning tiny tops, push up bras, hot pants, and bikinis, taking full control of their situations. It subverts the girly 60s look, both in attitude and appearance. Personally, I especially love Billie’s (Lori Williams) looks in the movie, in particular her iconic white hot-pants and polka-dotted crop top getup.

Female Trouble (1974)

I love 70s fashion, a lot. I also enjoy the garish vibrancy of camp, where the attitude of the story bleeds into the wardrobe. Female Trouble deploys all of that, served on a sickening platter of glitz and glamor. The John Waters film stars legendary drag queen Divine, and is chocked full of fashion references to the 50s and 60s, splicing decades of style together in a way that matches the pacing and overall attitude of the movie. There’s beehive hairdos and pastels, as well as brightly colored dresses, slick animal prints, heavy eye makeup, sequins, and fur coats. It’s very gaudy, very glamorous, and very much full of fashion inspiration. I actually originally found out about this movie due to fashion collections that took cues from the film, namely Miu Miu spring ‘15 and Adam Selman fall ‘15.

I love how despite the frivolity and outrageous storytelling that the outfits weave, they’re also very stylish in a wearable way. I mean, the orange transparent mini dress with a fur coat and sky-high hair? I’d wear it.

Blow Up (1966)

It’s a cult fashion movie, and for good reason. The movie takes place in the midst of the swinging sixties, and the clothing is accordingly immersed in the world of mod: flats with tights, kitten heels, a-line mini dresses, sharp lines and sleek ensembles that evokes imagery of both Twiggy in Vogue, and Edie Sedgwick in her iconic black tights and chandelier earrings (though of course, Edie had shrugged away the label of mod). It’s very much representative of its time, notably featuring a young Jane Birkin, as well as legendary model Veruschka playing herself. Some of the frames in the movie might as well have been pictures of collections from the iconic designers of that era, including Mary Quant, André Courrèges, and Pierre Cardin. It’s fun, simple glamor, encapsulating the time in which it was created.

I’ve always loved the style of this era of the sixties, and how it’s portrayed in Blow Up; simple mini dresses that accentuate attention-stealing pieces such as fur coats and red tights (which are timeless, even now). Nothing beats a barely there a-line dress to me, and they are bountiful in this movie.

I myself (screenmaven) absolutely love Blow Up!! That one is definitely on my film style list.

Thanks again, for sharing with me and my followers your insight into style through film.

Follow @ starrymayx on IG & banannasui for more great content.

[nehswritesstuffs]

okay so for the "500 words or less" excerpt DVD commentary i'm going to choose the opening of this fic because i can't help myself it is honestly one of my favorite parts and i gotta know what the thought process was

Having never really considered himself weak in the ankles, Law was beginning to rethink his lifelong self-assessment as he slipped his feet into the absolutely terrifying shoes that had been shoved in his direction. With Nami on one side of him and Perona on the other, Law shakily attempted to stand, not enjoying the extra wobble he gained by simply standing still. “What the fuck is wrong with you people,” he grumbled lowly. His girlfriend, however, scowled. “You live in heels—I don’t want to hear it.” “I wear boots, Nami-ya, not whatever torture devices these are.” He looked out over the rows of shoe racks and saw that the difference in height was… concerning. “Fucking hell—these have three extra inches than normal.” “Well, yeah,” Perona scoffed. “You need to look your best, and they’re already doing wonders for your ass.” She hummed. “Well, what little you’ve got, anyhow.” “Why are we even here?” Law groused. “Can’t I just order some online?” “We are not,” Nami said, “because I am not going to have to deal with ordering shoes for your massive man-feet and then them not fitting properly. Turnaround is way too quick for us to need to worry about shipping.” “I feel like a fool,” he grimaced as he continued to curse the integrity of his legs. “We did not drive to the only shoe store in Greater Logue Town that carries wides in-stock for you to chicken out,” Perona scolded. “I’m not chickening out,” he insisted sourly. “I just have way too much coordination to know first-hand why Cora-san practices walking in these things.” “Well, you’re about to get a lot more familiar with them if we’re going to get you anywhere,” Nami said firmly. “Now go ahead and try to walk to that rack there.” Two steps and Law went sideways into a shelving unit full of narrow-widths. Nami and Perona stared at one another—they had a lot more work ahead of them than they had feared.

Ahahahaha, yes! Although I love all this fic, I do particularly feel this part. A bunch of me projecting on Law under the cut.

Have an excerpt you want me to break down? Go ahead and let me know!

Nehs? Projecting on Law? Never! *fake shocked gasp* Okay, so let me break it down:

I need wide width shoes as well, and holy shit are these hard to find since Payless started going nuts after filing for bankruptcy. Twice. This is a modern AU set in a pseudo-Midwestern America, so my loss of the only place that consistently stocked wides is also his loss of the only place that consistently stocked wides. and don't tell me that [place] does bc i've tried I am waiting for when that void is filled with bated breath bc I hate shopping for shoes online.

I am also on taller than average. (I am not Law's height, but he is on the taller end for normal people.)

I also like wearing boots with chonky heels/soles.

I also like wearing heels/wedges despite it making me "so tall" so what if I scrape six feet that way.

I also have enough coordination to walk in heels/wedges.

I can fucking run in heels/wedges.

I can honestly say that aside from a couple choice moments (as we all have) I am fairly well-coordinated overall.

I recently tried on a pair of heels in-store (returns from an online purchase, I'm sure) and as I stood I almost toppled over like holy shit.

I did roll my ankle once while running in wedges and I went down hard that was fun.

Narrow-widths are apparently a thing.

...and what sort of outfit as spectacular as Dr. Hart-Steeler's is complete without the right shoes? Can't have her show up in Crocs because although that's thematically correct I don't think those are going to fly in a drag queen revue.

[sirensofthefiveseas]

“Hm” She couldn’t even argue that, Paulie’s crew always met the quota she set out no matter how high it was. There was a reason every believed that Paulie was going to be set to inherit after Iceberg decided to retire from the business. Humming she tilted her head away from him, looking out over the rest of the docks. The men were milling about, the work wrapping up for the day. It was these moments of peace that made her almost regret that she wasn’t honestly here for them.

“There is only six inches of skin showing from the top of my boots to the edge of my skirt.” She had measured before, the first time he went off on her about the clothing she wore. Kalifa wouldn’t admit it but it was one of the reasons she had taken to wearing long heeled boots instead of normal heels, though apparently Paulie took offense to her knees and part of her thighs showing. At his answer she sighed softly and pushed her glasses up her nose.

“We shall check your locker first since I can already tell from your workbench it’s not there.” Turning on her heel she started to march off, pausing for a moment. “Would you like to meet me at the lockers so you can have a few words with your men?” She hadn’t missed the looks he had given them, nor their apparent desire to run

No matter what Paulie called Kalifa, he would never mean it as a true insult, she was a friend even if she enjoyed riling him up and annoying him.

"Busy meeting your quota" Paulie countered, ignoring the quip about him being busy losing his money in card games; he knew he was addicted to gambling, he could never and probably would never deny that. If he denied it then it was an obvious lie because everyone who knew him was aware of his vice. But, it was something that allowed him to relax in the evenings, even though he couldn't really relax after it all because usually he was running from debt collectors or avoiding Lucci so the bastard wouldn't grab him by the ear like an errant schoolboy; something the man seemed to have a habit of doing whenever he thought Paulie wasn't listening.

"You show too much skin" he huffed, lighting up another cigar and taking a drag of it to try and distract himself from it all. He could only ever admit it to himself, but even though he thought that she wore too little, it did suit her; she always looked professional.

The question about his own paperwork had him blanking, he honestly had no idea where his paperwork was, he always made sure the men's were up to date and where it needed to be for processing; but he always forgot his. "No idea" he answered her honestly, not even bothering with an excuse this time.

[cherrycola27]

Karma

Warnings: Language, Violence. Mentions and Descriptions of attempted SA. Minors DNI 18+

Vixen beat on the door of the bungalow she knew Rooster shared with Bob and Hangman. She shivered from the unusually cold summer rain. Her feet and calves were screaming, though she hadn't planned on running six blocks in these heels when she had chosen them earlier that evening.

Her fists pounded on the wood until the door finally opened to reaval Jake Seresin.

"Vix?" He questioned. "Jesus it's pouring get in here" he said pulling her inside.

She stood in the foyer shivering.

"Is Rooster here?" She chattered out.

"No he went to go pick up some food... should be back soon." Hangman told her as he looked over her.

"Vixen, what, what happened are you okay?" Jake asked, concerned.

"I... I.... no I'm not okay." Vixen admitted with a sob.

"I was out with Lt. Matthews at the Hard Deck. I wouldn't go home with him and he got angry, so angry, he... he t..t..tried to...but I fought back. And then I ran all the way here. I knew it would be safe. I was afraid he would try to come to my place." Vixen confessed still shaking.

Jake took a step back and took in his fellow pilot's appearance. She was soaked from the rain, her hair clung to her face. Her makeup was smeared. She had a black eye and a busted lip. Bruises were forming on her wrist, there was a red mark around her neck, and her dress was ripped. She looked so frail standing there.

"Okay, here's what we are going to do. We are going to get you some dry clothes and a hot shower... sound good?" Hangman asked her. Vixen nodded back weakly.

"Bob, can you grab some of Rooster's sweats for Vix please?" Hangman asked the WSO who had been silently taking everything in. Bob quickly rushed to the laundry room and reappeared with some sweatpants and a shirt for her.

"Great, now let's get you a hot shower and then you can wait in Bradshaw's room until he gets back." Jake said leading her to the bathroom.

Vixen shut the door behind her and stripped off her wet and ruined dress. She had kicked off her shoes by the door, they were trashed now.

She turned the water on and up higher than she probably should have, but she wanted to scrub every inch of her skin where Kyle Matthews had touched her.

She should have listened to Bradley when he told her Kyle was bad news, but he had charmed her into a few dates and she thought he was a good guy, boy was she wrong. His hate filled face flashed before her eyes. If she hadn't have gotten that right hook to his nose who knows what would have happened.

After she felt as clean as she could, she turned off the water and dryed off. She grabbed the clothes given to her and pulled them on. She could smell Rooster on them.

She came out of the bathroom into his bedroom. She probably shouldn't have, but she was so exhausted and upset she crawled into his bed and let out a sob.

Fifteen minutes later Rooster Bradshaw returned home.

"Bob, Jake, did one of yall invite a girl over while I was gone to get pizza?" Rooster asks noticing the pair of high heels by the door.

"No, they're, they're Vixen's shoes" Jake says with a somber tone.

"Why is Vix here? She's supposed to be out with Matthews." Rooster questions with an edge if distain in his voice."

"Bradley." Hangman begins with a serious tone. I need you to listen to me right now and not go off the deep end." Jake states. Rooster knows it is serious if Hangman is using his actual name.

"While you were gone, Vix...she showed up here looking for you, scared of her mind." Jake begins to explain.

Rooster's fist ball up as his jaw clenched.

"She said that Matthew's, tried to... he attacked her. She was soaking wet from the rain and her dress was ripped, she ran all the way here from the Hard Deck. Bob lent her some of your sweats to wear. Jesus man. She looked... she looks... its" Jake couldn't finish.

"She's in your room, she's terrified." Bob tells him. Rooster pushes past both of them and heads to his bedroom. He knocks before entering.

He sees her there laying in the middle of his bed curled up, shaking, crying. She looks so small and frightened. Nothing like the fearless pilot he knows.

"Vixen." He speaks softly coming to sit next to her. She sits up but doesn't meet his face. She has her hair pulled covering her face from his view.

He tilts her chin up and gently brushes the hair away from her delicate features. He takes them in.

Her busted lip, her black eye, the angry red marks around her neck, the bruises on her wrists.

It takes everything in his power not to fly off the handle.

He pauses and inhales sharply.

His eyes darken before he speaks:

"Who did this to you?"

The question was rhetorical. He knew who had done this. He knew where she was supposed to be tonight. He just needed to hear her say the name, that was all she had to do... just give him a reason.

Once she spoke it, he wouldn't hesitate to drive all over San Diego to find the motherfucker who had done this to his girl and rip his fucking heart out while it was still beating.

"K...k...Kyle Matthews. He... he did this because I wouldn't go home with him... he... he... he tried to." Vixen stammered out before another sob racked her body.

She collapsed against Rooster's chest. He held her tightly against him.

"Shhhh." He cooed to her "It's alright, you're safe now." He whispered against her hair.

She pulled back and looked at him. "I'm sorry." She spoke "Sorry for what?" He asked her confused.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you when you said he was bad news. I'm sorry I didn't take your advice. I'm sorry I only went out with him to make you jealous. I'm sorry for being here and ruining your plans and being so stupid." She cried out.

"Vix, baby girl look at me. You didn't do anything wrong. And I promise you, I'm going to find Matthews and make him pay for this." Rooster spoke his tone was dark and serious.

"You're going to stay here with Bob and Jake, and I'm going to take care of this." He assured her.

"No! Please don't leave me. Please... he isn't worth it." Vixen begged him and she clung to him.

"Okay... I'll stay right here with you. Rooster assured her. And he did. He held her all evening until she was finally asleep. When he was sure she wouldn't wake up, he slipped out of his room and went into the living room. He was happy that Jake, Bob, Coyote, and Phoenix all sitting there.

"I see you all got my message." Rooster began.

"Yeah we did... what's up Roos?" Coyote asked him.

"Someone hurt Vixen." He stated plainly. He didn't want to go into details, that statement was enough to anger everyone in the room. Vixen was their friend, their ray of sunshine, if someone messed with her, they messed with everyone.

"What I'm about to ask you to do is strictly off the books. After tonight we never talk about it because it never happened. We were all here hanging out together and drinking if anyone asks." Rooster starts.

"But we're going to go hurt someone and you can never ask me about it, but just know, they had it coming. If you aren't up for that you are free to leave." He tells them.

"We aren't going anywhere Rooster." Phoenix speaks for the group.

They all nod in agreement.

"Bob, can you and Phoenix stay here in case she wakes up or someone makes an unwelcome visit?" Rooster asks them. The pilot and her backseater immediately agree.

"Hangman, Coyote, you're with me." Rooster commands as he slips on a black hoodie.

"One question Bradshaw." Javy states before they leave... "Who's car are we taking?"

"We're taking my truck." Jake tells them. "No offense Rooster, but the Bronco isn't the best for an incognito mission. Not many of them on the road, but there are several black Silverados out there." He reasoned with them.

Rooster nodded in agreement as the trio went out into the night.

Jake hopped in the driver's seat, Rooster slid into the passenger's side and Coyote hopped in the back.

"Well gentlemen," Rooster spoke "Let's go get this fucker."

Hangman backed the truck out of the drive and headed to where he knew Matthews was staying. They would look there first. If he wasn't there, they knew a few of his other hangouts. Unfortunately when they turned onto his street his rental was dark his driveway was empty.

"Well this is a bust... where to next?" Jake asked.

"He's at the beach club on Sunset St." Coyote states showing them his phone. Kyle Matthews wasn't smart enough to have his social media set to private and Javy was easily able to pull up his Insta story and find him.

"Hot damn. Good job Detective Machado." Rooster joked as the truck rolled onto the street towards its next destination.

Jake steered his truck into the parking lot of the club. Rooster immediately spotted the mustang that Lt. Matthews drove. Hangman parked in the space next to it. The three men sat in the truck and wait for him to exit the venue.

"Roost, I know you said he hurt Vixen." Coyote spoke up breaking the silence in the truck. "Did he... you know?" Coyote asked afraid to speak the word.

"No, the son of a bitch tried though. Apparent she hit him with a right hook to the nose and ran for her life." Rooster informed him.

"Let's make him pay." Coyote said confidently.

"You don't put your hands on a woman. Every self respecting man knows that." Jake added, his Texas draw becoming more prominent. It always did when he was angry. The other men nodded in agreement. All three if them hailed from the south, and that sentiment was driven into them at a young age.

"Asshole incoming" Hangman said as they say Kyle make his way out of the club to his car. They all quietly exited the vehicle. Thankfully the douche had chosen to park in the darkest part of the lot, he wouldn't see them coming.

He fumbled with his keys as he walked towards his car.

"Lt. Matthews" Rooster called out from the shadow.

"Who's there?" The man spun around looking for a face to go with the voice.

"Your worst nightmare." Jake said as the trio stepped forward.

"Hangman, Coyote, Rooster? What are you doing here?" Kyle asked them once he saw who was there.

"We have business with you Matthews." Rooster spat out.

"What business?" He asks and edge of anger in his voice.

"We came to finish was Vixen started" Coyote almost growled at him.

"Really? You guys are here to defend that bitch? She almost broke my nose! Did she tell you that?" Matthews yells at them.

"Yeah she did. She also told us about how you treated her and what you tried to do to her." Rooster shoots back.

"The skank was asking for it I meam Jesus Christ who doesn't put out on the third date. Her call sign is VIXEN for crying outloud!" He shouts trying to somehow justify his actions.

"Well if you think call signs are what the person should act like maybe we should change yours to Coward considering that's what you are." Coyote states taking a step closer.

"You know you Yankee bastard, it might be okay to put your hands on a woman where you are from, but where we are from, that's about the lowest thing a man can do. We respect our women around here, and take care of those who don't." Hangman states, his voice low, and his southern twang thick.

"I don't have to stand here and listen to think. Fuck you assholes, dumb bitch got what she deserves, though I will have to say it was pretty hot hearing her beg for me to let her go, too bad I didn't get to--"

Lt. Matthews doesn't get to finish his sentence. He is cut off by Rooster's fist connecting with his jaw. The force of it sends him staggering backwards and to the ground.

"The fuck Bradshaw!" He curses out getting to his feet. He lunges for Bradley only for Jake to land a right hook to his torso, forcing the air out of his lungs.

Kyle doubles over which gives Javy the opportunity to deliver a swift kick to the ribs. He groans out in pain.

Rooster picks him up by his shirt collar and pins him against the side of his car. His fist meets the other man's face a few times. There is a nasty crunch followed by a pool of blood, Rooster knows he has broken Kyle's nose. He had stayed silent most of the time, but as Rooster raised his fist again he spoke

"You think that bitch is going to put out for you now? If she does let me know if you enjoy hearing her scream and beg as much as I did." He states before laughing.

Rooster's body flooded with anger. He drops his fist and wraps his hands around the other lieutenants throat, squeezing the air from his lungs. If Hangman and Coyote hadn't been there to stop him, Rooster would have surely killed him.

He let's up just a little before bringing his face close to Matthews's. "If you ever get near my girl again, I swear to God himself I will rip your heart out of your chest and have it for breakfast. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes" Matthews stammered out.

"Yes what?" Rooster groans

"Yes sir." Matthews replies before Bradley finally releases his grip.

"And if anyone asks you what happened you tell them you tripped and fell down some stairs or off a curb, I would hate for us to have to meet again like this." Jake tells him as Kyle climbs into his car.

"Understood." He says before peeling out of the club.

The group gets back into Jake's truck and enjoy a silent ride home. They share a silent understanding that this night never happened. Once they get back to the bungalow, Rooster is shocked to find Vixen standing in the living room with her arms crossed and shooting daggers at them with her eyes.

"Hey Vix! Glad you are up." Rooster begins trying to act casual.

"Oh no you don't! Just where have you three been! Rooster you promised me you wouldn't go after him.

"Sweetheart, we just went out for a little drive and some air. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about." Rooster replies.

"So that isn't Kyle Matthews's blood on your knuckles then?" Vixen asks with a matter of fact tone.

The boys shrug. "Ugh I can't believe you. I told you not to do anything!"

"Vixen, honey, relax, we didn't anything." Rooster said stepping closer to her and pulling her in his arms.

"Karma did." He finished looking down at her.

"Karma huh?" Vixen shrugged looking at everyone.

Before she became a pilot she never had anyone in her corner, but now, standing in the living room at one of her lowest points she realized that the people infront of her weren't just her friends, they were her family.

"Well, since Karma did me a favor. How do you suppose I repay them?" Vixen asks.

"I could think of a thing or two." Rooster says before pulling her in for a kiss.

Tag List: @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mak-32 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @rosiahills22 @thedroneranger @roosterforme

[ptergwen]

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

-

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it. 

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions. 

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”