#si: cashmere

[cannibalkissies]

💋Safeshiptember - Day 7 (because I somehow skipped day 6): Fantasy AU/ Modern AU💋

[anakinstwinklebunny]

older sugar daddy!anakin who's paying for your postgrad, just cuddles you after a long day of studying 😩

TW: none really, just fluff and soft praises cause bunny loves dilf!ani :3

Author's note: I love you, give me more..let your fantasy free. Also, today's my birthday, when it's posted, I'm sleeping (thanks to the queue). But I want to thank YOU for this year. In September, I celebrated without all you knowing probably, my one year on this app. One year. Year ago, I'd not even imagine that one of my dreams would come true - to post MY work, something people will enjoy..you guys made it real and for that I thank you so much! Hugging all 622 of you!!! <3333333

It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. Your brain was fried from the constant cycle of lectures, readings, and assignments. The textbooks in front of you blurred whenever you tried to focus on yet another chapter of dense material, so it was no use.

You felt drained—mentally and emotionally. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget about postgrad for a little while.

The soft click of the apartment door opening snapped you out of your haze. You heard the familiar shuffle of Anakin’s shoes being kicked off, his expensive, cashmere-wool blend coat draped over the chair. Before you even had the chance to look up from your mountain of notes, he was beside you, his presence filling the room with warmth and comfort you so much craved at the moment

"Hey," he greeted quietly, his deep voice gently vibrating in your ear. He could immediately sense the tension around you, see the exhaustion written all over your profile side. Without asking, he leaned down to kiss your burning temple that was heated up from way too much information for one day

Not taking your tired eyes from the whatever you were trying to focus on, your nostrils could pick up the familiar scent of him—clean, warm, with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon

Dear heavens..

"Long day?" he asked softly, his large hand coming to rest on your shoulder, thumb gently brushing the back of your neck. You closed your eyes at the contact - it felt so good, to just being able to feel the all the stress and tension slowly melt down your spine

Well, Anakin's hands were magic. In every way. They could tear you apart, pull you back together and make you beg for more. Yet today, you were way too tired to beg him to do anything

"You have no idea," you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned into his touch. “It feels like this coursework is never-ending.”

Anakin’s lips curled into a soft, understanding smile as he tilted his head, studying your tired expression. "You’ve been at it for hours. I can tell." He glanced at the textbooks, notebooks, and laptop scattered around you. It was impressive, to say the least, but even him knew you needed to slow down "You need a break."

Before you could protest, Anakin was already moving. He gently closed your laptop, setting it aside along with your textbooks, making sure they were out of reach so you wouldn’t be tempted to keep working. At first it brought you a quicker heartbeat, to see him just so casually act like it when you still had so much to do “Come here,” he murmured, reaching out to you. "You’ve done enough for today."

Yet, you didn’t hesitate. As tired as you were, the moment he opened his arms, you were drawn to him like a magnet. You slid into his embrace, sinking into his broad chest as he wrapped you up in the warmth of his body.

Your cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his sweater, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It was grounding, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone in all of this. He was here, as he always was, making everything seem a little less overwhelming.

“You’re working too hard, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice tender as he massaged your scalp before gently threaded his long fingers through your hair, brushing it away from your face. "You need to rest."

You sighed, sinking further into his embrace. Dammit, if he keeps it up, you'll fall asleep "I just want to get through this semester." you confessed

Anakin pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head before his hand moved to caress your back “And you will. You always do.” His voice was filled with quiet confidence, the kind of unwavering belief in you that never failed to make your heart swell.

“You’ve been taking care of everything else,” Anakin murmured after a long moment of quietness, his voice a soft rumble in your ear. “Now let me take care of you.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, overwhelmed by how much his simple presence soothed you. He always knew when to step in, offering comfort without needing to ask for anything in return. It wasn’t about money or gifts—this, right here, was what made him your anchor. The way he could make you feel safe and cherished, no matter how heavy the world felt on your shoulders.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. You pressed your face further into him, breathing him in, the scent of him calming your racing thoughts. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"You’ll never have to find out," he replied softly, kissing the top of your head. "I’ve got you."

You shifted slightly, your legs curling up as you snuggled deeper into him, finding the perfect spot in his lap. His hand gently cradled the back of your head, fingers sliding through your hair with a touch so tender it made your heart flutter.

"I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the night."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @bimbo-baggins17

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue July 1955

Evelyn Tripp wears a coat made from vicuna and cashmere, a blend so rare that there is barely enough fabric to make 153 such coats. By Max Milstein, in magnolia beige Worumbo fabric. Hat by Tatiana du Plessix. Kislav gloves. Van Cleef & Arpels jewelry. The lipstick of the moment: the soft “Summertime” by Elizabeth Arden.

Evelyn Tripp porte un manteau en vigogne et cachemire, un mélange si rare qu'il existe à peine assez de tissu pour confectionner 153 manteaux de ce type. De Max Milstein, en tissu Worumbo beige magnolia. Chapeau de Tatiana du Plessix. Gants Kislav. Bijoux Van Cleef & Arpels. Le rouge à lèvres du moment : le doux « Summertime » d'Elizabeth Arden.

Photo Frances McLaughlin vogue archive

[moreespressoformydepresso]

I was just reading a new TBOSAS fic on AO3, it’s a Catching Fire AU that I found by religiously stalking the Treech tag. And the author just informed me that they’re not sure on who gets to live or die so my brain made multiple similar AU’s where I decide who lives :)

So first of all, these will all be focussing on Treech and Lamina. I headcanon Lamina as older than Treech, which I seem to be alone in? I’m sorry but she has big sis energy to me, and also I push the “younger people can be the (more) protective one too” agenda. In my head Treech is 15-16ish? So he’s a few months to a bit over a year younger than Lamina (who is canonically 16). I’m not 100% on what to make their relationship to each other, because I like them both as a ship and as platonic besties. I’ll mention which one I’m using (or if I’m making them related somehow) for the AU’s I’ll share in this post (and, likely, following ones 💜).

Starting off strong: not necessarily a catching fire AU but close enough and better because the second rebellion happens much sooner here. Treech and Lamina can be anything here, but I my top picks are siblings or besties since birth so we’ll go with siblings (nice Gloss and Cashmere parallel minus the career/likely volunteer part I know). Treech is two years younger than Lamina here for ✨reasons✨. The 10th games, with Lucy Gray still as victor through cheating, are the starting point of the mentors. From then on, the victors slowly start taking over the mentoring. The academy students still get a chance at winning the Plinth Prize in the beginning, but that quickly falls away and it’s just about getting your name out there and bragging rights for them.

Lamina wins the 16th games at 16 (ha) as the first female victor for district 7. She and one of the two male victors from previous games are to mentor, since the capitol stipulates that if there are male and female victors, the two mentors have to be one guy and one girl. This happens during her second year as mentor. The mentors all watch the reaping together in the capitol, which also gives them more time to sort mentor business. District 7’s turn comes, and Lamina almost feels bad for how relieved she is that the 18-year-old girl is someone she’d only seen in passing and didn’t actually know. Most of her friends that weren’t already safe aged out this year, meaning she didn’t have to worry about potentially seeing anyone she cared about die. Treech’s name isn’t in the bowl as much as many others, especially since her victory meant her family had enough food to not require tesserae anymore. And their family had already been reaped once, so surely they wouldn’t be picked again, right?

Pause for effect

Treech’s name is called out, and Lamina screams in denial before breaking down into sobs while the other two district 7 victors try to comfort her. The rest of the victors look at her with pity and sympathy. He’d been her motivation to win her games, and now Lamina would have to mentor her little brother despite his low odds of winning the games. I have most of this AU worked out in terms of broad strokes, but I’ll move on to the next one and if you want me to expand just ask me.

Quarter Quell Hell:

The 25th hunger games had the twist that the districts have to vote on their tributes, but I’m adding a twist to this Quarter Quell. The tributes are reaped from bowls filled with the names of the 5% of kids with the least votes, to remind the districts that they’re powerless rather than the whole “you’re the reason they’re dying” thing. And when they’re chosen, a screen will show how many people voted. Treech, being the only direct relative of a victor eligible for the games, received zero votes. Nobody wished it upon their family to lose another child, especially given how they’re so kind to everyone (basing this off of Lamina, and Treech doesn’t have much canon personality so it works).

Quarter Quell Hell 2: Electric Boogaloo:

A completely different first quarter quell, where the tributes are picked from the victor’s direct family. A reminder that even the districts’ strongest cannot protect their loved ones from the capitol. The only restriction is that people above the age of 50 cannot compete, because those people have lived out most of their life expectancy, whereas younger people still have most of their life to live, and it’d be like letting the district off easy. Only one previous victor besides Lamina has a brother, and that brother turned 50 just that year, whereas Treech just turned 15 and is very much eligible. The parents that are still alive are well above the age cutoff. So, while there are more than 20 names in the bowl for the women of district 7 (sisters, wives, and daughters), there’s only one in the bowl for the boys. Treech. Worse even, he won’t be mentored by a previous victor but by a top performing student at the academy to reinforce the intended message.

I’m torn on whether to make Gaius Breen (because he deserves more attention) or Festus Creed his mentor (I wanted to go with Pliny, but he’s so tied to Lamina in my head it would feel weird to go that route). I’m gonna go with Festus, because he was nice to Sejanus. Am I lowkey shipping Festus with Treech now, even though they have no canon interaction whatsoever? … yes, yes I am. Sue me. The reaping happens in the capitol, and while the previous victors must go to the capitol to watch the games they’re only brought there a day before the games begin and aren’t allowed to see their family member at all before the games. Both the tribute and the victor will be alone. I’ve got a lot of ideas for this one, and for my newly invented ship FesTreech, so I’ll write a post about that once I’ve posted this.

Star Crossed Lovers AU:

Lamina is the Girl on Fire of this AU, winning her game with only one kill, made out of compassion. Lumber is used as firewood, and her stylist leaned into it. Hence her also getting a literally flaming hot costume. She’s sent into the games with Treech, but unlike Katniss and Peeta these two are in love from the start. In fact, they were dating before they were reaped. Treech joins the careers, but only because he doesn’t want to be the only one left with Lamina at the end because he doesn’t want to fight her. He leaves the pack very early, rather than being forced out, and stays alone for most of the rest of the games, before teaming up with Lamina towards the end when the announcement comes they can survive together. The announcement is revoked, they almost eat the berries, they’re saved, they start a rebellion.

Actual Catching Fire AU:

Lamina won the 71st games, went back home and started dating Treech. Then Treech got reaped and she had to mentor her boyfriend, but he won too so it’s alright. Then the third Quarter Quell happens, and their worst nightmare comes true. Not only are they both reaped to go back into the arena, but they’re going in together this time. And only one of them will survive. They stick together throughout most of the games, only teaming up with Tanner and Coral briefly because they’re good friends of theirs (less than half of the 75th games’ tributes are 10th games tributes because I refuse to kill any of them if I can prevent it). When the arena is destroyed, Treech is taken by the capitol. I choose him because this leads to Lamina going on an absolute rampage. The capitol was not prepared for her wrath at the sheer audacity they have to dare hurt her boyfriend.

What did I just create? I- it’s 4:35AM please cut me some slack

[artofapo]

Louis, babe, I LOVE that you finally put on a little yellow cardigan at the end of season 2 after spending the entire time in Dubai wearing navy and grey retirement-core sweaters but sis you're going to have to up your wardrobe game for season 3. Your ex husband is going on tour, with an album he wrote FOR YOU and he knows that your second marriage is in the bin. Lestats concert is not the time for a little cashmere pullover quiet-luxury number, if you're going to run away from a group of vampires trying to kill you you should do it in leather pants and a sheer top. eyeliner. chains. jewelry. glitter. Daniel was immortal like one week and he was wearing leather jackets, you can do it too.

[unbiviosicuro]

E tu perché cammini a quattro zampe? Perché ti amo. Che c'entra, ride, e poi il suo tepore che passa attraverso il pullover di cashmere, me lo sento addosso, quell'odoretepore di uccellino, e il suo riso farfuglia piano parole senza senso nel mio orecchio. Mi fai il solletico! Le sue labbra dove si sono nascoste? Che bella tanina calda sul tuo collo. Dammi un bacio, piuttosto. No, si sta troppo bene così. Dio, che meraviglia, Massimo come sono felice! Adesso facciamo l'amore. Sei impazzito? Sì, sì.

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode illustrée, no. 16, 20 avril 1863, Paris. Manteaux de Mme Leballeur, r. Taitbout, 74. Chapeaux de Mme Aubert rue Neuve des Mathurins, 6. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Description de toilettes:

Nous recommandons à nos lectrices l'examen des manteaux de printemps et d'été, exécutés chez M. Leballeur: ils se distinguent par leur parfaite élégance et leur bonne exécution.

Le manteau no. 1 est extrêmement remarquable. C'est un fort grand talma en cachemire noir, encadré d'une broderie orientale, en soies de couleurs. Les nuances sont si bien assorties que cette broderie est parfaitement harmonieuse, et n'attire le regard que pour le satisfaire. Le manteau est bordé en guipure noire. La robe est en taffetas nuance cheveux de la reine, bordée avec un volant tuyauté surmonté de pattes encadrées de guipure noire. Le chapeau se fait chez Mme Aubert, rue Neuve-des-Mathurins, 6; il est en tulle, de même nuance que la robe, avec plumes noires et roses roses placées en diadème.

Robe de grenadine de soie à filets bleus, formant carreaux sur fond blanc. La jupe est bordée avec une ruche de taffetas bleu ayant 3 centimètres de largeur; trois ruches semblables sont disposées en ondulation. Paletot en taffetas noir orné de riches passementeries et de dentelle de chez M. Leballeur, rue Taitbout, 74. L'entournure des manches est garnie d'une haute dentelle. Le paletot est ouvert en cœur et boutonné vers la taille. Chapeau de Mme Aubert, en tulle de Bruxelles blanc, avec bavolet, brides et diadème nuance abricot. Fleurs et feuillages noirs sur et sous la passe.

—

Coat no. 1 is extremely remarkable. It is a very large talma in black cashmere, framed by oriental embroidery, in colored silks. The shades are so well matched that this embroidery is perfectly harmonious, and attracts the eye only to satisfy it. The coat is edged in black lace. The dress is in taffeta in the shade of the queen's hair, edged with a fluted frill topped with tabs framed in black guipure. The hat is made at Mme Aubert, rue Neuve-des-Mathurins, 6; it is in tulle, of the same shade as the dress, with black feathers and pink roses placed as a tiara.

Dress in silk grenadine with blue nets, forming checks on a white background. The skirt is edged with a ruffle of blue taffeta having 3 centimeters in width; three similar ruffles are arranged in an undulation. Overcoat in black taffeta adorned with rich trimmings and lace from M. Leballeur, rue Taitbout, 74. The cuffs of the sleeves are trimmed with high lace. The overcoat is open in the heart and buttoned towards the waist. Madame Aubert's hat, in white Brussels tulle, with flap, straps and apricot shade tiara. Black flowers and foliage on and under the pass.

[morningmurder]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ─────ㅤ𝐗𝐗 ─────ㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐓

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤtryna be a 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑛, but I'm 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

aos 31 anos de idade, faz pouco caso de sua vida há 9 anos atrás, como se não passasse de uma piada de mau gosto. hugo soube como virar o jogo, e agora é ele quem dá as cartas: um podcaster de sucesso, o morning murder tem episódios diários e conquistou uma horda de fãs fiéis não somente do tópico true crime como de hugo em si, que acumula uma quantidade exorbitante de seguidores em suas plataformas, além de ter o tão almejado prestígio social em mãos. de alguma forma, para alguém que agora vive sob holofotes, ele parece não ter perdido o hábito de sempre saber das coisas, especialmente do que não deveria.

ㅤㅤ𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬ㅤ‧ㅤfones de ouvido com cancelamento de ruído, fita cassete gravada com música indie, cadernetas de anotação borradas de tinta, suéteres de cashmere em tons terrosos, café amargo com licor, organização obsessiva, caneta tinteiro vermelha, garranchos rabiscados em um canto de página, aroma almiscarado, paletas outonais, polaroid

ㅤㅤ𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝ㅤ‧ㅤ( 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑟𝑜 ) ⟢ 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐒 ﹕com uma carreira estável e um sucesso astronômico, foi-se o tempo em que hugo era considerado um fracassado: seu sucesso é percebido há distância. no entanto, emerge um caráter egoísta, tendo conquistado tudo aquilo sozinho, por que se prestaria a partilhar? não, não depois de tudo que lhe fizeram. mesmo na bonança, é solitário;ㅤ( 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙 ) ⟢ 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐃𝐄 𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐒 ﹕estar alerta o tempo todo parou de ser um hábito e tornou-se uma necessidade: um passo em falso poderia custar mais do que hugo está disposto a pagar, e ele certamente sabe como enfiar as garras naquilo que quer. aconteça o que acontecer, nunca age por impulsos, independente de sua cólera, mas calcula até o menor dos sorrisos antes de se prestar a mostrá-lo; ( 𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙 ) ⟢ 𝐎𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐒 ﹕a bem da verdade, hugo não tem tempo para cultivar vínculos emocionais a um nível mais profundo, e ele finge estar bem com isso. frequentemente, pensa sobre o que deixou para trás quando se mudou em busca de ambições maiores. por mais que quilômetros de distância o separassem da cidade, seu coração sempre esteve em des moines; ( 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑙 ) ⟢ 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐒 ﹕sem modéstia, é nítido que hugo conseguiu vencer na vida. e entre as linhas borradas de orgulho e egocentrismo, não sabe mais se portar como um zé ninguém: está diferente, de corpo e mente, e é muito difícil dizer não para quem parece segurar o mundo na palma da mão. sucesso, mídia, beleza... o que mais alguém poderia querer?

ㅤㅤ𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬ㅤ‧ㅤ𝐈 ﹕com uma predisposição ferrenha a agradar quem seja, eternamente fadada ao fracasso de nunca ser aceito, mas sempre inconveniente, o distanciamento surge não como opção, mas uma imposição: quem gostaria de ser amigo de um garoto tão estranho que mal consegue formular uma frase sem balbuciar para si mesmo entrementes? a parte boa disso tudo é que quando se é esquecível, invisível aos olhos alheios e não mais importante que uma sombra, se ouve muita coisa… muita coisa mesmo;

𝐈𝐈 ﹕a posição de predileção foi enfim conquistada, não muito depois do incidente com fiona encontrar a paixão de hugo por true crime, culminando na criação de um blog que noticiava, quase em tempo real, atualizações sobre o caso. uma verdade aumentada aqui, outra ocultada em tempo propício, e um retorno midiático absurdo, eis o que hugo sempre quis: ser notado. acima de tudo, estar no controle: o que era factual ou não estava e sempre esteve em suas mãos. quem desconfiaria de um garoto com uma reputação tão boa?;

𝐈𝐈𝐈 ﹕aprendeu que o que influencia as histórias não são os eventos em si, mas a forma como são contados. a fama foi bem aproveitada, entre blogs e vídeos de baixa resolução, avançando até que se tornasse o narrador do podcast de true crime mais ouvido no país. como profissão, precisava ser um pouco mais cuidadoso com a forma como dispunha os detalhes para conquistar a atenção desejada. afinal, uma credibilidade afetada àquela altura do jogo era impensável. quanto mais confiável e inocente parecesse ser, melhor. não precisava ser tudo isso de fato, só fingir.

[ross-nekochan]

La vera piaga della società ipercapitalista di oggi e che, a cascata, genera pure le disuguaglianze di classe sapete qual è?

Il servizio clienti.

Tutti quanti vogliamo sentirci ricchi o semplicemente più ricchi degli altri e di chi conosciamo. Prenotiamo gli hotel di lusso finché ce li possiamo permettere oppure semplicemente gli hotel si abbelliscono come se fossero di lusso, nonostante abbiano prezzi abbordabili perché la gente deve sentirsi ricca anche se non lo è. Stessa cosa vale per i ristoranti o per qualsiasi altra attività che offre un servizio ai clienti.

E la piaga del lavoro sempre da là viene: esistono turni di notte, numeri verdi 24/7, cose inaudite solo perché così il cliente è soddisfatto e ha tutto ciò di cui ha bisogno. È ovvio che finché parliamo degli ospedali o di altre cose tutto è sacrosanto, ma mi spiegate che cazzo me ne faccio del numero verde 24/7 quando mi compro un frigorifero (sto facendo un esempio a cazzo di cane)? E perché l'hotel deve avere la vasca idromassaggio, la piscina, il servizio in camera e tutte quelle menate che è palese che sono fatte apposta per viziare i clienti deficienti che ci vanno?

Ed è proprio perché il servizio clienti giapponese che è il migliore al mondo che ha reso scemo sto popolo, perché questi hanno la pappa pronta per qualsiasi cosa, non si devono mai ingegnare a fare niente. Dall'altra parte è vero che grazie a questo c'è tantissimo lavoro, ma dall'altra parte ogni lavoro legato al servizio clienti fa oggettivamente cacare, è usurante, è schiavismo pagato istituzionalizzato che, appunto, crea la disuguaglianze di classe a cui accennavo, perché, per favore non rompete i coglioni, ma è palese che vedete i camerieri o chi vi fa il letto in hotel con uno sguardo da servo-padrone. E vorrei vedere se avreste lo stesso sguardo nel caso in cui certe figure venissero pagate con uno stipendio maggiore del vostro.

Personalmente quando viaggio sono sempre andata nelle peggio bettole e non me ne è mai fregato un cazzo e onestamente penso non me ne fregherebbe pure se guadagnassi 4 volte tanto. Quando viaggio io ho bisogno di un letto e basta, non della vasca da bagno con gli asciugamano in cashmere.

[seoul-italybts]

[✎ TESTO ♫ ITA] Hope on the Street Vol.1 - J-Hope⠸ ❛ Lock / Unlock ❜⠸ 29.03.2024

[✎ TESTO ♫ ITA] 

J-HOPE 📀 Hope On The Street Vol.1

 🔐 ❛ Lock/Unlock

(with Benny Blanco & Nile Rodgers) ❜ 🔓

～ Blocco / Sblocco～

__ 29. 03. 24 | Twitter __

SCRITTA DA: j-hope, Benjamin Levin, Blake Slatkin, Magnus August Høiberg, Michael Cleveland, Nile Rodgers, Omer Fedi, Pdogg

PRODOTTA DA: Pdogg, Blake Slatkin, Nile Rodgers, Benny Blanco, Cashmere Cat

* Letteralmente, il titolo significa 'Blocco / Sblocco', ma j-hope gioca anche con la terminologia tecnica del ballo e, in particolare, fa rif. al locking, stile di ballo hip-hop sviluppatosi a Los Angeles verso la fine degli anni '60. I movimenti e passi del locking – fluidi, molleggiati e precisi.. generalmente eseguiti su melodie funk – si basano, appunto, sul concetto di 'lock (bloccare/chiudere)', ovvero eseguire movimenti veloci per poi bloccarli all'istante, n.d.t.

Ecco la chiave

Sarà il nostro tutto (già)

Sarà speciale

Perché non abbiamo freni

Lo faccio per te/voi, blocco Solo per te/voi, sblocco Non so perché Ma ne abbiamo bisogno, vero? Lo faccio per te/voi, blocco Solo per te/voi, sblocco Non so come Ma io e te/voi sappiamo come funzionare

Per la nostra pausa (Lock, lock, lock, lock, lock)

E poi di nuovo per il nostro amore (Unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock)

Per i nostri passi (Lock, lock, lock, lock, lock)

E poi di nuovo per il nostro mondo (Unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock)

Riprendi fiato (riprendi fiato, già)

Ora è tutto più chiaro (oh, yeah yeah)

Siamo più che speciali

Perché sappiamo tenere il controllo (uh uh)

Ne abbiamo ancora di strada da fare

Troppa, troppa, troppa

Quindi continuiamo così

E andiamo avanti, avanti, avanti

Lo faccio per te/voi, blocco Solo per te/voi, sblocco Non so perché Ma ne abbiamo bisogno, vero? Lo faccio per te/voi, blocco Solo per te/voi, sblocco Non so come Ma io e te/voi sappiamo come funzionare

Per la nostra pausa (Lock, lock, lock, lock, lock)

E poi di nuovo per il nostro amore (Unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock)

Per i nostri passi (Lock, lock, lock, lock, lock)

E poi di nuovo per il nostro mondo (Unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock, unlock)

⠸ Ita : © Seoul_ItalyBTS⠸

[pomegrenatefeedback]

Tra gli autobus di Lampugnano, Milo de Angelis

La sera, nella grande stazione dei pullman, è una frenesia di corpi e di luci, tutto sta iniziando, tutto s'incammina, tra clacson e fanali, le ruote fremono, si aggregano le ombre e l'ho trovato qui, l'amico delle feste lussuose, l'amico dai golf di cashmere e le scarpe di Brigatti, che si avventura come un fanciullo di mille anni verso un'altra terra con una ferita che dilaga nel suo corpo e una fuga che vuole confondersi con il mondo e gioca a nascondino. "Tu dove vai?" "Non so, non so, il vento soffia dove vuole." "Vediamoci, una sera a cena, quando tornerai." "Non lo so, prima devo scordare tutto, tutto deve essere scordato."

[corinneecrivaine]

WILLOW - Chapitre 11 - Rédemption au Cœur des Ténèbres. (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1391924215-willow-chapitre-11-r%C3%A9demption-au-c%C5%93ur-des-t%C3%A9n%C3%A8bres?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=CorinneEcrivain&wp_originator=4tHpgj%2Fty7XvNWao8AtNOl6sIpILVxFe2TpZ3p%2BTHcYMOay%2Fsd8HrJjrNM90j225yWh6GDKEDJXz27yE6nfBStT91IVU4NTBIFdcYz7LFZ5Xni462TswOWpFAR9%2BCJcL L'histoire se déroule après la fin de la saison 1. Lorsque Elora a vaincu The Crone, et Kit sauvé Airk. Tous se préparent à la grande guerre à venir. Mais cette aventure leur a laissé des blessures avec lesquelles ils doivent désormais vivre avec. Bien sûr cette aventure qui peut être considérée comme la saison 2 provient totalement de mon imagination. Ayant adoré la série Willow, tous les personnages, tous les acteurs et en particulier cette romance entre Kit et Jade j'ai voulu continuer à faire vivre cette magnifique aventure à travers ma plume. J'intégrerai tous les personnages y compris le retour de Madmartigan tout en ajoutant de nouveaux personnages comme un magicien sorcier, une guerrière sorcière, ainsi que le roi de Cashmere et bien d'autres. Je n'oublierai pas The Wyrm, Dark Elora, Dark Graydon et The Crone. Je remonterai dans le passé et le présent. J'essaierai au mieux de rester fidèle aux personnages à l'histoire et aux fans. Si certains veulent une histoire, un passage précis, un personnage précis j'en tiendrai compte dans les demandes. Merci à tous de continuer à faire vivre cette magnifique aventure.

[pisayers]

The Elite Club

“Mukha siyang papatay ng tao,” stated Axel as she walked towards the elite club tent.

The crimson red lipstick along with the grey turtleneck sweater and black leggings was enough to cast fear into the hearts of the students on campus. With a blue file case wrapped around her arms, Rona perused the attendance report for the day and immediately landed on the bottom page where the absences were.

Grade 9 Representative: Absent (unexcused)

Grade 10 Representative: Absent (competition)

Peace Officer: Absent (sick leave)

Rona cheered, “Uy, wow! Nasa meeting si Axel. Palakpakan natin, guys.”

Mock applause from dejected members of the meeting filled the air.

“Ay, sige. Salamat guys.” he said.

“Okay. Ano na papag-usapan natin? Bilisan niyo. May date pa ako mamaya.” cried Rona.

Lauren muttered, “Medyo seryosong usapan po. Hintayin ko lang pong magrecord si secretary May.”

Lauren rearranged a couple of papers in front of her with almost robotic precision. The stoic expression on her face was a sight many have gotten used to, the effect of kilograms of papers stacked on her armchair during class almost everyday.

“Sorry. Inaayos ko pa ‘yung mic ng camera, pero upo na kayong lahat para ready na.”

May giddily adjusted the lens of the camera, fiddling with buttons and switches as the members watched her animated expressions shift every five seconds.

The members took their seats on the roundtable as Rona whipped out her lipstick, tracing the contours of her chapped lips as she ogled at herself on the vague reflection of the TV screen.

“Ate, pwedeng ‘wag muna ‘yan at pag-usapan muna natin ‘to?” shouted Jim.

Sweat drenched his clothes as Jim tried desperately to wipe off droplets from his forehead. However, it was too late. The polo has turned translucent, and his clammy hands have left behind damp handprints every time he would playfully smack the table.

Rona yelled, “Huwag mo akong utusan. Grade 10 ka lang. Umayos ka.”

“Nagrerecord na guys!” cheered May as the members shuffled in their seats.

“Okay! Ano nga ba papag-usapan natin, Lauren?” asked Rona.

With a frown, Lauren looked down on the hardwood table, fiddling her fingers and twirling her hair anxiously.

A concerned look on her face as she patted Lauren’s shoulders, May asked, “Oks ka lang, treasurer?”

With a deep sigh, Lauren looked up and scanned the faces of the members, tears welling up in her eyes.

“K-kulang tayo ng funds para sa campus party.”

The elite club erupted in uproar and fury, furious faces and curse words flying around. A Starbucks cup glided in the air and landed right on Axel’s yellow cashmere sweater.

Rona yelled, “Tumahimik kayong lahat!”, slamming both her fists on the roundtable as the members fell silent once more.

“Paanong kulang, Lauren? Akala ko ba umabot na tayo? ‘Di ba ang rami nating ginawang mga fundraising activities?” said May.

Staring daggers at Rona, Axel got up and addressed the club, wiping off what was now a coffee stain on his left shoulder.

“Marami nga. Kaso may gagong gumagastos dito sa atin eh!”

“Ako ulit? Makasalita naman ‘to parang nakita na niya financial report. Kai, labas mo mga papeles natin sa fundraising.”

Kai, the auditor for the elite club who was quiet throughout the scuffles, rose up, fiddled with his glasses, and read the contents of his paper with sweaty and trembling hands.

“M-may expenses po k-kayo dito, ma’am.”

“Ako? Patingin nga!” shouted Rona as she yanked the papers from his hands, partially tearing some of them.

“Rona, ginagamit mo funds natin na parang sarili mong pitaka. Bilang vice president ng club, ‘di ko pwedeng tanggapin yan. Umayos ka.” said Axel, biting his tongue to hold back his boiling anger.

Rona scanned the laundry list of expenses she had using the funds. Lipstick, prom dress, hairspray, Taylor Swift concert tickets, all amounting to 73% of the elite club’s starting capital for the campus party.

Jim cried, “Rona, bakit?”

“Ako pa talaga may kasalanan? Alam niyo bang kailangan natin lahat ‘yan para sikat pa rin tayo sa campus? Pang-Instagram lang naman, eh. Jim, ilang likes nakuha natin sa post ko ng concert ni Taylor Swift?”

Jim slowly whipped out his phone, rubbing tears off of his cheek with his blue sweatshirt.

“1.1k likes, p-po.”

“Oh, diba? Kailangan natin lahat ‘yan para sa promotional materials natin. Ano na ngayon tingin nila sa ‘kin kung mukha akong hampaslupa?”

Wide-eyed expressions swept through the entire group. Lauren buried her hands in her face as she leaned her elbows on the roundtable. May fiddled with the camera, desperately trying to turn it off. Jim, still stunned, continued to look down at his phone, droplets of tears flowing down to the home button.

Axel shouted, “Walang hiya ka, Rona!”

“Wow! Okay, Mr. Laging Wala sa Meeting. Ano na sasabihin mo?”

“May pake ka ba talaga sa school natin? O tumakbo ka lang nung election para may malagay ka sa college apps mo?”

The words cut deep into Rona’s soul. Some members were already shuffling out the tent, not wanting to hear the verbal abuse that was about to ensue.

“Alam mo problema sa ‘yo, Axel? Ang dami mong ginagawa! Bigla ko na lang malalaman na may Chemistry Olympiad ‘nung nagpaplano tayo ng Christmas Party. Pinagbigyan pa kita noon eh kasi ba’t naman kita pipigilin kung ‘yan gusto mo, di ‘ba? Pero ang kapal ng mukha mo, sumali ka pa sa volleyball competition? Ngayon, wala kang kwenta sa club natin!”

“Hay! Ako? Walang kwenta? ‘Di mo lang alam kung ilang beses ko naririnig sa mga estudyante dito na nayayabangan daw sila sa ‘yo. Lagi mo raw sinisigawan, wala naman daw ginagawa.”

“Bobo lahat ng mga lower years. Alam mo na dapat yan, Axel!”

“Ikaw dapat nagtatanggol sa kanila! Ikaw gabay ng mga estudyante dito, pero parang lumobo ata ego mo nung nalaman mong naging leader ka ng elite club.”

Rona had enough. She stormed out of the tent and ran towards the middle of the basketball court, letting out a gut-wrenching scream that deafened the entire campus.

[ashleybelmont]

It is Christmas day in Toronto. The Graham residence is primarily peaceful except for a few bustling bodies making preparations for tonight’s merrymaking — a specially curated dinner for friends and family. Halls are fully decked, flooded by the sweet, piney scent of a Douglas Fir standing tall and garnished on the main floor.

The certified bachelor is re-charged by the present state of calm afforded him. Not to be disturbed behind bedroom doors he takes a restful gaze toward high ceilings. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself as thoughts soon drift to very particular members of the guest list. Nonetheless, a certain confidence in his servitors allays any threat of stress for what promises to be an enjoyable evening for all.

Indeed, the night progresses with great care, attention and effort to the ease of the gentleman appearing of robust mind and spirit. Glasses are kept filled, a warm and lively chatter swells the air. 

Later, he is summoned by the faint chime of the doors bell, of which, he answers himself.

“Are you going to invite me in, stupid?”

Aubrey, completely unsuspecting of the visitor, excitably pulls his estranged step-sister inside with a grizzly bear of a welcome.

“Sis? Is that you?” He jokes. 

Her pageant queen appeal under a blue New York baseball cap with minimal make-up. Smooth, chestnut skin and the most striking eyebrows. Her dark hair is cut short into a bob pushed behind pixie-like ears to frame a square jawline. A thin, pouty mouth with only a smattering of clear gloss. Pretty brown eyes reflect hazel under the glittering light of the foyer. 

“I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Are you surprised?”

A mercurial type of woman. Intensely alive as if her life depended on it. From the moment he laid eyes on her that day at the wedding, Aubrey regarded qualities in her he’d only hope to one day find in a marriageable mate. A fact he’d never allow himself to share out loud. Least of all to her. She’d laugh, amused. Voted most likely to tease him into hardness. 

“I missed you, brother.” Her words emphasized like honey. 

“You look good,” she follows up, removing her coat and draping it across her petite arm. 

The girl wore all black. No stranger to tantalizing fashion moments. A full body, form fitting catsuit that hugged her slender curves.  

“Can I get that for you?” The man of the house asks politely.

Reluctant, “Thats ok — I’ll hold onto it. You know how I get cold.”

The two exchange a set of barely legal glances as she steps out in front of him. A soft perfume trails behind to affect the playboy suppressing a growing tightness in the cashmere of his pants. He uses the opportunity to separate from the intoxicating beauty that is his older step-sister now making her way across the room to Aubrey's mother. The guests now spread intimately throughout the homey manor. A satisfying blend of spices, florals, tobacco and booze wrapped around them. 

When he is ready to brave her again he finds her alone on the balcony of his library. Her long, wool coat once again blanketing her body against the wintry temperatures. First, observing her from afar, his hands cozy in the pockets of his slacks before making himself known.

“Aye — It’s bloody cold out there.”

She is startled a little by the intrusion (as were his intentions) though attempts to mask it.

“Aye.” She calls back, rolling her eyes hard. 

“What are you doing out there?” He pokes.

“I’m chillin’.”

“Girl—” As if to reiterate the chilled weather.

“Guy.” She smirks, looking over her shoulder at him before averting her focus.

A Carby Musk approaches slow on her neck prompting the preoccupied seductress into new awareness.

He stands not too far behind. A heavy silence meets a starry night sky.

“It’s good to see you.” His voice husky in tone. 

“You too.” Whipping her body around to face him.

“I really like what you did to the place, Santa.” 

“Oh — This?” He is trained in modesty.

“I just — you know…” He hesitates to describe the true sense of joy he feels around this time of year.

“They really seem to get along, don’t they?” She continues.

“Yeah. I’m happy they found each other.” 

“Me too.”

“Listen…” He starts.

The two appear raw in front of the other anticipating what isn’t being said, but, may just be about to. 

“Keep me warm,” she says, drawing an inch closer to his warm body. In the same motion flicking her cap and disrobing the protective covering to fall elegantly at her feet. 

“I wondered when I would see this outfit again.” His face beams with that wide, toothy smile.

“Why? So you can ask me where I got it and gift it to one of your little girlfriends?”

This time he doesn’t hesitate to grab her firmly by the throat with a thick, kind hand.

“Don’t be such a bitch.”

The sudden gesture forces her to brace herself.

"I'll be yours," she whispers, smokily.

His eye contact unflinching, intensifying the squeeze of his grip on every side of that pretty little neck.

“Show me,” he challenges. In the heat of the moment, lips meet in a kiss of wet, hungry passion. 

“Make love to me,” she cries into the deep of his mouth now gentle and sweet. A sudden tear drops from her winged eye, wetting a flushed cheek. He pauses briefly to study the magnitude of her needs. 

“You missed me?” 

Butterflies begin to fill her stomach explosively.

“I want to feel you inside me—” is the gracious response of his receptive step-sibling, unzips the front of her attire past a pierced belly button. 

The refined man watches the woman undress as she puts herself on display for his eyes only. 

“I need to be punished.” She says. "Badly."

Her words make him want to own her. 

Mindful of the bitterly cold, Aubrey, lifts her from her thighs up to his waist, legs wrap around and she is carried inside with him kicking velvet loafers off one by one. With prioritizing strength guides them both near the back of the room. Her nude body placed deliberate and safe atop the furniture, legs guided further apart with a nudge of his own body.

Together, they work to undo his trousers. She assists in raising his shirt over his head. A violent steam emitting from their bodies. For the first time, nothing held back.

He pushes into her hot and heavy, sliding snug into her wetness. His beard prickly on her face while she breathes in a soft rhythm to deep, filling strokes. A low, throaty moan escapes her quivering lips, swollen with desire. He is the lover she imagined he would be — attentive and effective, rough and tender.

***This is a work of fiction. Events are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental or an exaggeration of public knowledge***

[afreakingdork]

I really love April's relationship with Don. And her voice is on point.

The little snooty bastard /would/ like cashmere

Awwwww, he wants to hold hands 😭

Ahahaha Beloved calling out the fam.

I wonder what Splinter or the Caseys would have suggested. Probably a fancy dinner from the rat and the birds and the bees talk lmao

Cassanda would suggest something with violence, like one of those places where you go to smash things. Or baking together.

And Casey Jr would probably tell him to just be honest and talk direcly. Boy has no frame of reference for dating in the Apocalypse. Or probably something simple and safe and too obviously romantic like huddling together for a movie

I loved the dialogue man. The way they play off each other. The PINING.

Augh, he's gripping his bo in assurance!

Did April make friend with the musicians? Omg he owes her big time.

Finally, he stopped running and just USED HONESTY FOR A CHANGE

ALSJXOAMZHDOAmdj

Whoooooo!

🎉

Congrats, you daft , purple, rube goldberg brained turtle!

Dr Feelings is gonna bake him a cake, he did so well.

Aaah, I'm squirming in bed from happiness and fluff.

-Toodles 😘

Ah, I'm so glad I did April justice. i love her unhinged quality! Their bro/sis relationship is super important to me!

Omigosh, you made me remember that I wrote a little crush for Casey Jr in this very fic. It makes me wonder if he told her or what after Don's 'pep' talk? I think you're spot on that Splints was recommend a wine/dine. Cass would be like dojo fight or it could be fun if she was like axe throwing bar! Nothing screams romance more than flying sharp objects!

I will confirm that April did not hire the musicians. Stuff just happens in New York. Seriously, what a town!

Thank you so much, Toodles! I'm so glad you liked it 💖

[crepesdifragole]

Non servono quelle tue scarpe belle e costose per ballare coi piedi scalzi sul pavimento della cucina mentre aspettiamo che si cuociano i biscotti, levati anche quel maglione in puro cashmere altrimenti non riesco a morderti il collo, e poi lascia che ti sfili di dosso le aspettative degli altri su di te,

perché possiamo esserci solo noi, e basta così