#specifically for being handsome and fashionable and charming and poised

[irrigos]

i was not expecting that post abt ahistorical fiction to get any notes lol. but since it's on my mind i AM gonna talk a little shit about the regency letter larp i was in. yes i will do it on my fl sideblog you are not the boss of me

really i guess it's my fault for expecting more from people but i s2g sooo many of these people got their knowledge of the regency era from like. memes. yes i too read that twitter thread about how beau brummel ruined menswear, but i did one picosecond of research after that and learned that thats literally not true at all. "beau brummell made it all boring :/" look at a fashion plate from the 1830s and tell me menswear got boring in the 1790s and never recovered. try it. please. "its his fault that menswear is only black or navy suits :(" literally when was the last time you saw a man wearing a suit regularly. like... my dad wears one to work sometimes? but he's a lawyer. that's not really what menswear looks like anymore!! that used to be the daily work wear for everyone, but honestly if i wore a suit into the office every day, people would think i was incredibly strange. we're just less formal these days!

but also like. im sorry i know all your ocs are soooo special and smart and right about everything so somehow they all have modern opinions about every topic. but most of them would probably be into beau brummell. they would think he was stylish. because that is what was stylish at the time. why don't you also tell me that your girl characters don't wear stays or corsets because #feminism while you're at it 🙄

i just don't really get the appeal of writing historical fiction if you're not actually interested in engaging with the reality of the era? i mean, i know it's all fantasy. it's play. but why choose THIS setting then? i honestly had more respect for and more fun playing with the people who were open about the fact that they didn't know much about history, and just wanted to rp a romance between fancy people. at least they weren't trying to convince me that it makes perfect sense that their character held these really anachronistic views about their own era that just so happen to align with what you, a modern person, think about it retroactively

anyway tldr: 🙄

[papermoonloveslucy]

MODELING INTO THE MOVIES

August 8, 1936

By Jeannette Meehan, HOLLYWOOD 

From the women’s angle, there are simply too many gorgeous newcomers in Hollywood. That fact is plain. 

From the gentlemen’s angle, Hollywood is pleasantly crowded with the most alluring bits of femininity ever to delight the bald-headed row. This fact is even plainer. Oh, say it isn’t so, but there a new day dawning in the west for the Stage Door Johnnies. 

Whence comes this influx of Eves? Who are these girls of such attractive physical make-up? 

Well, sir, most of them are ex-models. 

The highway and by-ways to Moviedom are past counting. Those most traveled have been the extra route, the beauty contest route or the I-have-a-relative route. Yesterday our newcomers were night club crooners, radio personalities and million-dollar heiresses. Today the majority of candidates for stardom are no longer being recruited from these avenues. It now quite obvious that any girl who has been a model approaches the casting office with an asset that permits her to pass up the waiting list. 

Oh, phooey, what’s a model got that the others haven’t? 

Well, when Radio Picture wanted five beauties for the fashion show sequence in “Roberta” they tested 30 girls, and then sent out an S.O.S. to the ranks of professional models. That was a year ago. Those five models so delighted the camera that they’re still under contract. (1)

Just a few months ago, when M-G-M went scouting for 22 modern Venuses for “The Great Ziegfeld”, they discovered that the ex-models had a lot more poise and personality than the kids who were merely movie struck. Eighteen of those 22 “Ziegfeld Girls” were former models. Fourteen of the 18 were given contracts. You just can’t argue with “figures” like that, or should I say with “figures like theirs"? (2)

“Model your way to the movies” isn’t just a catchy phrase. Models come to Hollywood already equipped with the elementary essentials which studios spend a great deal of time and money trying to hammer into inexperienced youngsters. Models have already served their apprenticeship to the art of carriage, grace and charm. They’ve already passed a certain type of beauty contest. The girl whose picture helps to sell beauty preparations has to have a face that leads you to believe that the product is worth trying. A pair of silk stockings modeled on muscle-bound or "spindle” legs would scarcely lure you to the hosiery department. 

You never see a good model stumble over her train. She remains regal and sure-footed in the most confusing draperies. 

Figuratively speaking, these girls are above reproach. Most fashion houses require that their models be above medium height, broad through the shoulders, slim through the hips, and that their proportions be symmetrically arranged. Thus, they’ve long since graduated from the routine of diets, masseurs, and classes for corrective posture that faces tire average beginner. 

In other words, movie producers are finding out that modeling is a natural complement to screen work. Film executives are discovering that the girls who come to them from portrait and artists studios and from fashion salons are far ahead of those who approach Hollywood's pot of gold with no training. 

Not only that, but these ex-models seem to be well-mannered, well-educated girls whose off-screen poise and chic rivals that of their screen betters. 

Oh, dear are they gorgeous? They're enough to make us ordinary girls forget to look before we leap. Just for instance, take Pauline Craig [above] (3), an auburn-haired, statuesque beauty from Cleveland, O. She’s five feet six and one-half inches tall, weighs 118 pounds, and has a figure that only Jean Harlow (4) could be unconcerned about.  

Miss Craig was a “Ziegfeld” girl - now she’s under contract. She skipped the first grade in motion picture training, and I guess we all know why. She was a model. Her glorious smile has appeared in hundreds of advertisements. As a fashion model she worked for I. Magnins. (5)

Are you wondering if these girls observe any general rules for the maintenance of health and beauty? Miss Craig will tell you that most of them prefer fresh air to smoky drawing rooms, and that they substitute milk for alcoholic beverages.

Incidentally, her hobby is collecting pictures of the Dionne quintuplets. (6)

Another girl recruited from the model ranks for “The Great Ziegfeld" was Wanda Perry (7), a vivacious brunet from Brooklyn. She's five feet five and one-half inches tall, weighs 120 pounds, and has brown eyes. 

With her classic features and her superb figure, there was a great demand for her in New York’s portrait galleries and exclusive clothing establishments. She has posed and modeled for Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, McFadden Publications and for tooth paste ads. 

With an already perfect camera presence, she is not to be enrolled in the studio's kindergarten for beginners. 

Over at Paramount there’s a queenly blond named Elizabeth Russell (8), probably the best known of former New York models. A favorite of such distinguished illustrators as Russell Patterson, James Montgomery Flagg, McClelland Barclay, Dean Cornwell, Paul Hesse, and Steichen, the photographer. Miss Russell is now in possession of a flattering long-term contract.

Artists agree that her features are photographically perfect. Artist or no artist, they’ll look perfect to you! She has modeled hose, nightgowns, and coiffures. Her blonde beauty has helped to sell cigarettes, jewels, soap, sheets, automobiles and first-aid kits. Very soon she'll be helping Paramount sell “Girl of the Ozarks,” her first picture (9). Miss Russell is five feet eight inches tall, weighs 118 pounds, has blue eyes and naturally blond hair. 

Another beautiful blonde who modeled her way to the movies is Louise Stuart (10), a former Chicago debutante. After graduating from Miss Mason's Castle (11) she went to New York to visit former school chums. It was during one of these visits that she was persuaded to pose for cigarette ads. One good look at her flawless countenance, and modeling jobs were her for the asking. With plenty of time on her hands, and nothing to do with it, she went to work. 

Miss Stuart attributes most of her success with the test director to her experience as a model. Posing for artists and photographers, she says, gave her a self-assurance which she has never lost. You'll see her first in “Lady Be Careful." (12)

A third Paramount prize is Veda Ann Borg (13), a stunning, red headed girl from New York. Before the studio signed her to a long-term contract, her divine proportions and sparkling personality had created a sensation in the modeling field. 

One of the most exquisite of Hollywood's newcomers is brunette Anita Colby (14) who stands five feet seven inches tall without her high-heeled shoes. Her face has smiled at you from magazine covers, commercial advertisements and from the pages of the nation's smartest fashion periodicals. Her beauty is attractively framed in poise, wit and charm. She is conversant with world affairs, music, art and literature. Pictorially speaking, she’s a model of perfection. Radio proudly points to her name on its contract list. 

Radio has two other "model" charmers in the persons of Maxine Jennings (five feet eight inches tall), and Lucille Ball (five feet six and one-half inches tall). Miss Jennings (15), a former model for the famous couturier, Jean Patou, is a stately redhead as handsome a creature as you ever laid your eyes on. You'll soon be seeing her in featured leads. 

Miss Ball (above), a blue-eyed blonde from Montana (16) and former model for Hattie Carnegie, is considered an important trump in the studio's hand. Her bosses have thus far cast her in wise-cracking roles, hoping to develop her into a counterpart of the late Lilyan Tashman (17) - but Lucille doesn't seem to need much help along those lines. Her poise, her suave delivery and her flair for clothes have already added to the gaiety of nations and have cannoned her well along the road to stardom. 

One of the most beautiful of the "model" brunettes is Hester Deane (18) who is doing much to enhance M-G-M productions. Her likeness on the backs of magazines has caused many a gentleman to change his brand of cigarettes, and she posed for automobile body advertisements long before the studio discovered that her presence on screen would “up” the grosses. 

She was born in Oklahoma City. Her education included art and music. Now, when she isn’t modeling or working in pictures, she designs clothes, takes piano lessons, and studies philosophy. 

A good look at Mary Jane Halsey (19) will have different reactions on you, depending on your sex. If you’re a woman, you’d just as soon she broke her neck.

Miss Halsey was born in Milwaukee. After her family moved to Los Angeles she became a model for a famous cosmetician. She is five feet six inches tall and weighs 120 pounds. She has blue eyes, and ‘shhhhhh’, she writes poetry. 

If these "model" newcomers get any taller, a few of our leading men will have to wear stilts. Extreme height, which has sounded the gong for many a beginners’ career, doesn't seem to be a handicap for the ex-models. When these lovely girls began to invade Hollywood, apparently the enthusiastic producers forgot all about the traditional physical specifications for screen heroines. There was a time when all actresses had to be extremely petite and slim, like Gloria Swanson and Colleen Moore, and, more recently, like Claudette Colbert and Margaret Sullavan (20). Unless you were a diminutive little trick about five feet two inches tall, and weighed less than 100 pounds, you might just as well have stayed on the farm. Greta Garbo and Kay Francis (21) were overlooked for a long time because of their height. 

But the restrictions seem to have been called off. It appears that models can grow as tall as they like without the danger of facing dismissal from the casting office. Margaret Lyman (22), one of the prettiest of the model group to win a picture contract, stands five feet nine inches in her stocking feet, and weighs 129 pounds. 

One of the most photographed models of the country, Miss Lyman has posed for Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, The New Yorker and for cigarette and soft drink ads. She has brown hair and brown eyes. She wears a larger shoe than Garbo. 

And no less charming is pretty Jane Hamilton [below] (23), another popular girl who found her way into pictures through the route of her professional success as a model.

#   #   # FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) “Roberta” was released by RKO on March 8, 1935. It was Lucille Ball’s 21st film.  Models were needed for the fashion sequences. The film also employed models Virginia Carroll, Diane Cook, Lynne Carver, Lorraine DeSart, Betty Dumbries, Myrna Low, Margaret McChrystal, Marie Osborne, Wanda Perry, Donna Mae Roberts, and Kay Sutton.  In addition to Lucille Ball, Wanda Perry, Maxine Jennings, and Jane Hamilton were in the film and profiled in this article.

(2) “The Great Ziegfeld” was MGM’s 1936 biopic of Florenz Ziegfeld, the showman who glorified female beauty on stage. Lucille Ball was not in this film, but was later part of the cast of “Ziegfeld Follies” (1951). This film employed dozens of showgirls and models to play the Ziegfeld Girls. Those profiled in this article include Pauline Craig, Wanda Perry, Hester Dean, Mary Halsey, and Margaret Lyman. 

(3) Pauline Craig (1914-97) made her screen debut in “The Great Ziegfeld” but only did five more films, leaving the business in 1939. 

(4) Jean Harlow (1911-37) likely did not know or care about Pauline Craig, even if Craig’s figure did give Harlow a run for her money. She was known as the original platinum blonde sex symbol. She died at age 26, at the peak of her popularity. MGM closed for her funeral. 

(5) I. Magnin & Company was a San Francisco, California-based high fashion and specialty goods luxury department store. It expanded across the West into Southern California and the adjoining states of Arizona, Oregon, and later to Chicago, Illinois, and Washington, DC, metropolitan areas. Mary Ann Magnin founded the company in 1876 and named the chain after her husband, Isaac. The chain was bought out by Macy’s in 1994. 

(6) The Dionne quintuplets (born May 28, 1934) are the first quintuplets known to have survived their infancy. The identical girls were born just in Ontario. All five survived to adulthood. The Dionne girls were born two months premature. The Ontario government and those around them began to profit by making them a significant tourist attraction. As of this writing, two of the girls are still living. 

(7) Wanda Perry was born Helen Beuscher in Brooklyn, New York, on July 24, 1917. When she was sixteen, she was named Miss New York City, and was offered a movie contract by Earl Carroll. Helen moved to Hollywood and took her mother's maiden name, Wanda Perry, appearing in films as a showgirl, an Earl Carroll Girl, a Goldwyn Girl, a dancer in "George White's 1935 Scandals," a fashion model, an extra, a bit player and a stand-in for Lucille Ball! Her final film was as an extra in Lucy’s Mame (1974). 

(8) Elizabeth Russell (1916-2002) was the sister-in-law of Rosalind Russell. She started doing films in 1936 and finished her career in 1960. (9) “Girl of the Ozarks” (1936) was a Paramount film also starring Virginia Weidler, Henrietta Crossman, and Leif Erickson. 

(10) Louise Stuart did two pictures for Paramount back-to-back in 1936. That was the extent of her film career.

(11) Miss Mason’s Castle is a reference to Miss C.E. Mason’s Suburban School for Girls in Tarrytown-on-Hudson, New York. It was open from the late 1880s to 1934. The castle was razed in 1944. 

(12) “Lady Be Careful” (1936) did not feature Louise Stuart as is said here, although records could be incorrect. The film did feature Elizabeth Russell, however. 

(13) Veda Ann Borg (1915-73) did her first film for Paramount in 1936, and was continually employed in Hollywood until 1963. She was the first actress cast as Honeybee Gillis in “The Life of Riley” TV series, replaced a short time later by Marie Brown, then Gloria Blondell. 

(14) Anita Colby (1914-92) was born Anita Counihan. Early in her career, at $50 an hour, she was the highest paid model at the time. She was nicknamed "The Face" and appeared on numerous billboards and ads, many of them for cigarette advertisers. She did three films in 1936 alone, the same year she appeared on 15 magazine covers in a single month. In subsequent years she only acted in three more films, returning to modeling. 

(15) Maxine Jennings (1909-91) did 10 films with Lucille Ball between 1935 and 1937.  After 1938, her film appearances were sporadic.  She made her final screen appearance on a 1968 episode of “Hawaii 5-O”. 

(16) Lucille Ball (1911-89) is stated as being a blonde from Montana. She was actually a brunette from Upstate New York.  

(17) Lucille is once again compared with Lilyan Tashman (1896-1934) a stage and screen actress known for her skill at verbal wit as well as her throaty delivery. She died at age 37, just one year after Lucille Ball arrived in Hollywood. 

(18) Hester Dean became known as 'The Girl with the Fisher Body' after modeling for the Fisher Automobile Company. Her only film was “The Great Ziegfeld” (1936). 

(19) Mary Jane Halsey (1913-89) was also in “The Great Ziegfeld” (1936) but by that time had done nearly a dozen films. She continued to act on screen until 1945. 

(20) Gloria Swanson was 4′11″, Colleen Moore was 5′3″, Claudette Colbert was 5′5″, and Margaret Sullavan was 5′3″. 

(21) Greta Garbo was 5′7″ (same as Lucille Ball), and Kay Francis was 5′9″. 

(22) Margaret Lyman (1915-2002) was one of the models hired for “The Great Ziegfeld” in 1936. She did two more pictures before leaving screen acting behind. 

(23) Jane Hamilton (1915-2004) was a Goldwyn Girl in “Roman Scandals” (1933) just like Lucille Ball. Hamilton, however, had done one previous film as a Goldwyn Girl, “Gold Diggers of 1933″.  She did seven other films with Lucille Ball. Her final screen role was in 1949. 

[babbushka]

Beautiful, Beloved (Chapter 4 Sneak Peek)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Titanic!Kylo Ren x Reader

1.8k; no warnings, full chapter coming soon! 

The sunshine on your face elicited a great sigh of happiness from your lips, as you leaned slightly against one of the grand windows of the promenade. How ingenious to have the long walkway covered, to have it closed off. You were certain that should it simply be an open deck, men’s hats and women’s shawls would simply be whisked away into the ocean.

And oh what a monument it was -- the ocean! How it glittered sapphire underneath the late afternoon sun. Golden ripples of light shimmered in the distance, cut through only by the black silhouette of a seagull’s wings. You and Kylo walked down the promenade, both preening under the approving gazes of the other passengers.

It was a luxury to even be here, up on the promenade. A private access for first class passengers only, and my, were you and Kylo among some of the more wealthy and notable pairs that had graced the polished and waxed deck floors. Still, it was important to impress, important to make your presence known.

And impress you did with your outfits. You’d both be changing for dinner of course, changing into much finer fabrics and cuts of cloth, but for this stroll in the beautiful weather you elected to don a more casual look.

Kylo was wearing a handsomely tailored three-piece lightweight tweed suit in a cream color so unlike the rich blacks you had seen him in before. He wore a striped button-down shirt underneath his vest, the stripes a light red color that matched your dress wonderfully. To shield the sun from his eyes, he sported the very fashionable straw boater hat, which did the marvelous job of making his ears stick out slightly.

You wore a very elegant walking suit of a sort of pinky coral color. It was made of gorgeous blend of cotton and linen that helped keep you cool in the sun, despite the high-necked lace blouse that you wore underneath the jacket. The jacket was tailored specifically to your measurements with smartly placed darts, and was secured with hand embroidered buttons in a matching coral fabric.

You were the only one on the promenade wearing such a color, and you found yourself preening under the attention. Your wide-brimmed hat was decorated with beautiful ostrich feathers dyed a matching color, and your shoes were a matching satin. It was an ensemble that would be seen across the ship, that was for sure.

You took one last breath of the fresh salty air, and returned to Kylo’s waiting arm. He had been observant mostly on the stroll from the suite to the promenade, and he was observant still, sparing a glance to some wealthy reclining passengers.

“It might be prudent for us to rent a set of chaises and rugs, what do you say?” Kylo asked you, nodding in the direction of those who were all poised to lounge and people-watch. He gave a protective squeeze of your hand as those people people-watched you.

“Hmm, there are so many opportunities to sit aboard the ship, I’d prefer being arm and arm with you just as we are now, as we walk.” You said after a moment’s thought. The chaises looked very comfortable, but there were a hundred places to be comfortable on the Titanic it would seem.

No, you thought to yourself, better to stretch your legs and get your exercise now while you could, before the two of you decided to indulge in one another and possibly never leave the suite.

“May I ask you a question?” Kylo asked, voice so soft that the sheer shyness of it broke you out of your inner monologue.

“No.” You teased, eyes sparkling with mirth as you gently nudged his hip with your own, your feet carrying you slowly and leisurely down the deck.

“Had this not been arranged by our families, would you have agreed to this?” Kylo wondered aloud, with no small amount of tremor to his voice. He waved his hand about, gesturing with his whole body in that way that you were coming to really find endearing. “To me, I mean. I know there were other suitors.”

You smiled, ducked your head as far as your carefully balanced hat would allow. You didn’t want to seem so infatuated with him already, so soon – but you couldn’t deny that you were. You were so fond of him, and these questions of his would only endear you further to him.

“There were a great deal many other suitors, you’re right.” You nodded with a bit of a huffed laugh, thinking of the clamor that came about with the courting seasons, all those letters from adoring men you were so reluctant to respond to. “There could have been a thousand other suitors, and I would have still picked you.”

Kylo’s step faltered for a moment, and you wondered if his palms were sweating beneath his gloves.

“I don’t mean to give off a sense of false modesty, I am merely curious as to why. What is so compelling about me?” He pressed, frowning, as if it were some great mystery.

“Well, it’s just that, isn’t it? You’re compelling.” You said, encouraging him to press himself to your side once more, the sound of waves gently crashing in the distance a symphony to your ears. “The day we met for tea, I found I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. You’re captivating -- the way you speak and interact with the world, the ideas you have. I may not know much of them, but the little I do know is far and away more interesting than the lot of the other suitors combined.”

“Hm.” Was all your eloquent husband had to offer, but you took it more of a sign of him allowing you to continue speaking, rather than a true response.

“I didn’t want a husband who would treat me as a decoration. I didn’t want to be put on a shelf, confined to some archaic idea of what wives should be. I wanted someone who would be willing to challenge that establishment, to look at me and not see just some means for an heir, but a person of substance.” You explained with a sigh, letting some of your lingering fears about marriage out.

“There’s no one more challenging than me, that’s true.” Kylo quirked a little grin, prompting you to smile so widely that your cheeks hurt.

You were glad to know that this man, with all his faults, would do right by you.

“Good, it will do well for us both to keep the other sharp.” You bumped his hip with yours once more, and he lunged at you, captured your face in one of his gloved hands and kissed you outright, right in front of everyone on the promenade. You laughed against his lips, pushed him away playfully because such a display would surely spark gossip, but you held him close to your side anyway. You leaned your head against his shoulder, glad for the angling of your hat to allow it, and sighed happily, “I trust you to treat me with respect, you know.”

“Why’s that?” Kylo teased.

“Because you’ve killed others for not showing you that same decency.” You replied lightly, once again stunning him with your response.

This time, he did not slow his step, but you could practically feel the way his heartbeat jumped and danced below his skin, pulse going wild at the very mention of his patricide.  

“You are not deterred by the fact that I am a murderer?” He asked. You were worried he’d be angry, but there’s a playful lightness to his tone that has you chuckling and only hugging his strong bicep.

“If I were I wouldn’t have married one.” You said, before shrugging, “I think murder can be a justifiable crime, sometimes it’s the only option we have to get what we want.”

Kylo pulled you to the side of the promenade to allow others to walk past. He leaned handsomely against another one of the large open windows that you had begun this walk smiling into. He didn’t smile, he was deadly serious as he took your hand in his own, ran his thumb across the knuckles.  

“I’d kill for you, if it meant giving you what you want.” He said sincerely, and you smiled, cupped his scarred cheek, showed him you weren’t afraid.

“I know darling, let’s hope you won’t have to.” You said back, about to lean in when --

“Tea ma’am?” A voice interrupted you.

You and Kylo turned towards the waiter, holding a silver tray that had practically anything one could require for a cup. Your stomach rumbled at the sight of the finger sandwiches, and you found that you weren’t so annoyed with the intrusion.

“Oh yes please, Kylo would you like some?” You nodded, and the boy set the tray down and began to fix you a cup, pouring tea into fine china.

“No thank you.” Your husband responded, stealing a kiss on your cheek anyway, “I’ll save my appetite for dinner.”

The waiter handed you the teacup and saucer to rest it on, and then disappeared, recognizing the scowl on Kylo’s face from the many years of being snapped out to scurry away. Kylo didn’t snap, but he didn’t have to.

You joined him in leaning against the window, sipping your tea. You could feel Kylo’s eyes on you as you squinted into the sunlight.

“When was the last time you were on a ship?” You were curious, for he seemed so unfazed by the wonder of it all.

“Sailing back from Africa.” He replied simply, and oh, you knew what that meant.

“Does it bring a sense of unease, to be back on the open waters again?” You asked, suddenly feeling guilty, worrying that perhaps he wasn’t enjoying himself, plagued with memories of battle.

“Not at all, this is much different from a warship. In fact, I don’t think it could be any more different.” Kylo smiled reassuringly, setting you calm once again.

“How so?” You asked behind your cup, and you swore you saw a blush creep across the strong bridge of his nose.

“Well, for one thing warships don’t have beautiful women sipping tea in day-dresses.” He said, making you laugh from the sheer force of his charm.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You playfully batted your lashes at him, and he rolled his eyes, stole another kiss to your cheek as the sun shone on the ocean, shone on your skin.

“I think you’re radiant.” He clarified.

And well, then it was your turn to blush.

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

Tagging some friends! I hope you all enjoyed this little sneak peek :)  @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee @oberynmartell @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker @mp938368 @hidingp @goodboybensolo @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose​ @hazydespair​ @yosoymuyloca​ @1-800-choke-that-snoke​ @ktellmeastory​ @anongirl007​ @zimmerxman​ @okk--maaan​ @flapjacques​ @thepilotanon​

[dreamss-of-boston]

the art of seduction

mini-series in which i refuse to let Levi die a virgin. this is set in the time in the manga when Levi and his subordinates are watching over Zeke in the forest, so if u are not caught up that far in the manga (from chapter 107 onwards), DO NOT READ. 

Reader finds out Levi is a virgin, and decides the best course of action: seduction. 

link on AO3!

- part one -

based off the facts in this post

Warnings: mentions of sex, cursing, eventual smut (in the later chapters), reader very obviously has a crush

It had only been eight days, and already, the cadet you shared a tent with had started fooling around with one of the other boys. Kara was a fairly talented soldier, but you couldn’t fall asleep fast enough in order to be unconscious while she snuck Barris inside your tent to make out; and lately, you suspected they were making their way to going way beyond that, but you didn’t want to stick around to find out.

You didn’t blame Kara; but you wished that she and Barris could find literally anywhere else to do what they were doing. So, because your tent was off-limits most nights, you had taken to sitting by the fire with Levi while he kept an eye on Zeke. The Captain didn’t let many others take over his watch because Zeke had proven himself time and time again to be dangerous and untrustworthy, so by now, you had become regular company to Levi.

After being one of the very few to survive the battle of Shiganshina, you had a newfound sense of respect for Levi. Granted, you had always respected him, and feared him a little, but there was definitely an unmistakable bond that had been strengthened between the two of you, not to mention between you and the other few who survived. The only one you couldn’t really stand was Floch, the self-righteous ass.

You had been stationed out here for two weeks, constantly watching over the ever-irritating Zeke. Having witnessed his power against Levi’s first-hand, you had complete faith in your Captain that he would be able to keep the enemy reigned in. It was no secret how much Levi hated Zeke, and you couldn’t blame him, either. In fact, you held almost just as much disdain for him.

While you despised Zeke, you really appreciated the peace and quiet that accompanied Levi; plus, Zeke was usually asleep (or pretended to be) by the time you joined them. Levi would usually just look up at you as you came to sit by the fire, taking out your sketchbook as usual, and the night would continue in peace until you heard Barris shuffle out of your tent. Then, you would finally be able to crawl back into your cot and get some much-needed sleep.

One night, however, as you sat drawing a tree just ahead of you, Zeke was wide awake and talkative.

“What’re you drawing there?” He asked with an uncomfortably pleasant smile. You really had no interest in speaking with him; you shared a glance with Levi, who then glared back at Zeke.

“A tree.” You said, refusing to elaborate. Zeke wouldn’t let up.

“Ah, trees,” He said, sitting back. “Your people really like trees, don’t you? Best things to use to kill titans, after all.”

You rolled your eyes, once again sharing a look with Levi.

“Mind if I take a look?” Zeke made a move to sit next to you on your little log, but was halted when Levi’s hand gripped the hilt of his sword, his gaze an unwavering threat. Zeke sighed, then sat back down. “Forgive me. I just haven’t had a conversation with such a pretty girl in so long.”

Gross. You sensed he was most likely toying with you, a result of his boredom from only being allowed one book to read over and over again. If he wanted a game, he wouldn’t get one; you wouldn’t play with him, at least. Snapping your sketchbook closed, you stood and then planted yourself next to Levi, intentionally close. He tensed, and gave you the most confused and uncomfortable expression you’d ever seen. You paid his reaction no mind; the captain was usually rather jumpy around you, speaking quietly if he ever spoke to you at all.

Zeke laughed - loudly. “Relax, Levi, she doesn’t have the plague!” He slapped his thigh. “You really are unpopular with women.”

“Shut up, you bearded piece of shit.” Levi huffed, grabbing a stick to poke at the fire. He was having some trouble turning a specific log over. You re-opened your sketchbook, continuing to draw the same tree in an effort to intentionally ignore Zeke.

“Why are you out here with us, sweetheart?” Zeke asked you, leaning forward in interest as he sensed your attempts to ignore him. “You can’t possibly be interested in spending time with this sour guy.”

“My tent-mate won’t stop making out with Barris; I honestly think they’ve just thrown caution to the wind and have started fucking in that little cot.” You rolled your eyes, propping your head up with your hand as you gazed at the fire.

Levi scoffed-- a little too loudly. “Disgusting.”

“They’re young and in love, Levi-- surely you can relate.” Zeke interjected. “Oh, but perhaps not…” He scratched his chin.

You narrowed your eyes at Zeke when Levi ignored the comment; clearly, he was tired and didn’t wish to converse with Zeke in any fashion. You decided you would entertain the conversation for a while.

“I’ll agree with you, captain,” you said, pointedly excluding Zeke, “sex is disgusting; especially when it’s happening in my tent, causing me not to sleep.”

“I think sex is great.” Zeke said, leaning back with a cheeky smile. “Don’t you think it’s great?”

You just raised an eyebrow at Zeke, not at all willing to engage in conversation with him. Zeke’s glasses flashed mischievously; Levi kept prodding at the logs of the fire, visibly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, but you didn’t notice, and Zeke was enjoying making Levi squirm.

“Hmm, I guess it’s only disgusting if it’s with the wrong person.” Zeke sighed. “If it’s with someone you don’t care about, you leave feeling gross and ashamed… but if it’s with someone you’ve been through a lot with, someone who’s understood your highs and lows, who’s seen you at your worst and helps you be your best--”

The unmistakable sound of giggles and shushing came from your tent a little ways away, and you huffed, rolling your eyes. Zeke had created a bit of tension around the fire with his words, and that was a welcome distraction.

Zeke glanced at your tent, and shrugged. “Then again, sometimes you’ve just gotta get rid of some tension.”

Levi stabbed the stick into the ground, causing you to jump at the sudden action. He was glaring daggers at Zeke, who was looking at Levi in surprise. You hadn’t noticed how incredibly tense he was; you’d never seen the Captain like this.

“Enough. I’m sick of talking about this shit.” He said in a low voice.

When you looked over to Levi, he looked painfully uncomfortable. You wondered why that was. Hadn’t he ever--?

Wait. No; it couldn’t be. Could it?

You and Zeke inadvertently shared a glance, but you quickly looked away when you saw that you both shared the same thought. You crossed your arms with a blush, wishing you could leave this situation. Somehow, you thought it would make it more awkward if you stood up and left, so you were glued to the spot.

Zeke’s lips slowly turned into a grin.

“Wait a minute…” He said slowly. “Captain Levi, the strongest of humanity’s soldier’s… are you-- a virgin?”

You had subconsciously covered your mouth with your hand by now; you were simply staring at the fire, wide-eyed with your eyebrows raised. You really didn’t want to look at the Captain, to see his reaction to what Zeke said. There was no way that could be true; could it?

Against your better judgment, you peeked at Levi out of the corner of your eye. He was staring at Zeke menacingly, his head dipped low and his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. Slowly, he unsheathed it, and stared at it absently as it was illuminated by the fire.

“I think we should all take bets to see how long it’ll take for your arms to grow back.” He said calmly. The fire flickering over his pale features only added to the terror. “What do you say, (F/N)?”

“Uhhh…” You said, refusing to remove your hand from your mouth. Zeke suddenly threw his hands up in surrender, laughing good-naturedly.

“Alright, we’ll stop! I should’ve known a clean-freak like you would hate talking about sex.” Zeke adjusted his glasses, although he couldn’t stop smiling. It was sickening.

Levi sheathed his sword, although he didn’t relax in the slightest. You gulped, staring at the Captain. A blush crept onto your cheeks the longer you gazed at him; he was so strong, so poised, and while he wasn’t the most charming with words, you found it so hard to believe he was a virgin.

He couldn’t be. Could he?

You couldn’t deny that you had always found Levi to be rather handsome; his dark hair that fell into his eyes always gave you the urge to gently brush it out of the way, and on the rare occasions that his bored gaze fell on you, you always felt a lurch in your stomach and became about as light as air whenever your name fell from his lips…

So, you had a thing for him. No big deal! But it was so hard to believe… Captain Levi? The man you considered to be the most powerful scout, a virgin?

You bit your lip as a smile crept up; you imagined how easy it would be to seduce Levi, a man who had never been touched like that before… you relished the thought of you being the one to turn him on, to see him breathless and sweating--

“What?” Levi asked you irritably, snapping you out of your fantasy. He was glaring at you, obviously more put-off than usual due to tonight’s events. While his gaze wasn’t filled with anything particularly desirable, you felt a little giddy having his attention on you.

Wow. It looked like you had needs of your own that were not being met.

“Nothing,” you said brightly, returning to your sketchbook. A bit of time passed, in which you considered the following: you were essentially quarantined from society, completely hidden away in the woods, for an indeterminate amount of time. Given the state of the world, i.e., your current situation, it wasn’t a wild thought that you might die at any moment. Zeke could transform and kill you; he might be able to create titans out of thin air to eat you; Marleyans might descend from the sky and kill you…

Given all of those possibilities, you felt that it was perfectly within reason to try and seduce Levi. You glanced at him again; he was just gazing at the fire, obviously tired but unable to fall asleep. Your heart ached for him, and all the pain you’d seen him go through. This was quite a romantically-lit scene, too: the dark of the night engulfing humanity’s strongest soldier, illuminated only by the flickering of the fire.

You propped your sketchbook up, and began to draw.

By the time you finished, Zeke was asleep-- or was pretending to be-- and Levi hadn’t spoken since he had caught you staring at him. The portrait you had drawn of the Captain was quite good, in your opinion; rather rough, but you figured it was flattering enough.

“Levi,” you whispered, detaching the paper from its bindings to hand over to the dark-haired Captain. He took the paper curiously, and after studying at it for a moment, he looked back at you with a mixture of flattery and confusion.

“Erm-- thank you.” He said, and if it wasn’t so dark, you could’ve sworn you saw him blush.

You smiled warmly, and stood up, stretching your arms up behind you. “I think Barris is gone by now. Goodnight.” You began to step over the log you had been sitting on to leave, when Levi stood to his feet in a sudden motion.

“I can-- walk you to your tent.” He said haltingly, as if he weren’t sure if it were the right thing to say or not.

You tilted your head to the side. “If you want to, I’d like that.” You gave him your softest smile, which must have caught him off-guard, because he cleared his throat, glancing back at Zeke. He called one of the other soldiers on the night watch to come watch Zeke while he escorted you to your tent. You couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips as you congratulated yourself; if there was one thing you were good at, it was the art of seduction.

When you arrived at your tent, Levi stopped a safe distance away. You turned to him, and placed a gentle hand on his upper arm. Surprisingly, he didn’t flinch away or glare at you, so you took that as a good sign that he didn’t mind you touching him.

“I’m sorry the conversation got so personal tonight.” You said, and you meant it; clearly, it had made Levi uncomfortable, and while the conversation gave you some valuable knowledge that you were now exploiting, you still didn’t like seeing your friend so unsettled.

He just scoffed. “Zeke’s as stupid as he is ugly. I’m not thinking too much about it.”

You pursed your lips; he totally was.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You gave him a little smile, and your hand lingered on his arm. You shouldn’t…

But you did. You leaned in, and gave Levi a quick peck on the cheek. You didn’t pause to see his expression (that would break the illusion of your aloof-ness); you simply turned, and entered your tent without another word, fighting back a victorious smile.

Oh, this would be fun.

[lasersheith]

for prompts: mutually pining Keith and Shiro with matching tattoos (something that’s meaningful to them specifically)... that they got separately, without realizing they were getting matching tattoos 🙌🏼

I love this prompt SO much! Thank you for sending it! It got pretty long, so I’m gonna make a part two later. It’ll probably eventually end up on AO3 at some point. 

A lot of people asked Allura why she became a tattoo artist of all things. Her mother and father, with their high ranking offices and political connections had always expected her to follow in their footsteps, but loved her and supported her decision even if they didn’t understand it. When she first became interested in art and design, her uncle, with his veritable fashion empire had been especially keen to take her under his wing, but still offered her his critiques and praises for her beautiful work. Her friends from the ivy league school at which she’d gotten a full ride for a business degree pretended they didn’t turn up their noses at her chosen career, but it didn’t bother her in the slightest. Especially not when a familiar handsome face walked into her quiet little shop.

“Keith! Back again, are we?” She greeted him with a smile. “You’ve turned me into an addict, Ally. Can’t stay away long.” He replied, returning her smile and dropping a sheet of notebook paper in front of her on the desk. The page was filled with pencil sketches. There was a large, black panther in the middle with an inscrutable expression, poised to pounce. Along the edges there were more sketches of large cats; a few leopards, a cheetah, another panther. The one that caught her eye the most, however, was the lion. It stood serenely, facing just slightly left of center, windswept mane appearing to billow in an unseen breeze. It exuded a certain dangerous quality that Allura couldn’t quite name. As though it were standing there just to observe, but it absolutely wasn’t to be trifled with.

It was perfect for Keith.

“I think this one.” She said, pointing at it. Keith hummed in approval. “Not the panther?” He asked tentatively. “Well it’s your body, so we can do the panther if that’s what you’d like.” She started tactfully. “But I think the lion suits you better.” He nodded, deep in thought. “I do think you’ve just about run out of room on your arms and chest, though.” She added with a teasing smile. “Where is this one going?” He turned around and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I was thinking in between my shoulder blades, pretty big. Dinner plate sized, maybe?” Allura narrowed her eyes and looked between the spot where he was pointing and the paper. She held the drawing up, first looking at the panther and then the lion. “That should work.” She finally said after a brief pause, twisting the paper a few ways to gauge where each drawing would look best.

“Let’s do it then,” He said decisively, “The lion.” Allura nodded with a smile. “Alright then, let’s get started.”

2 hours later, all of the outlining was finished and looked absolutely perfect to Allura’s eyes. She held up a mirror in front of Keith as he studied the fresh tattoo from the larger wall mirror’s reflection with a wide smile. “I think this is my favorite one yet.” He said, looking up at her. She grinned back. “Excellent!” She replied triumphantly. “I think we should wait 10 days, maybe 2 weeks for the rest. Let you heal up and rest, this piece is pretty big.” He nodded. “Same time, Saturday after next?” She pulled out her phone and put his next appointment in her calendar. “You’re booked. Let’s get you covered up and checked out, then.”

..

Some days Allura regretted her walk-in policy; there was always the danger of people coming in to get something on the spur of the moment and being angry when they regret it, inebriated college boys who don’t understand how bleeding works and why she won’t tattoo them when they’re nearly black out drunk, and kids who come in pretending they “forgot” their ID at home. Other days, ridiculously tall and muscular, handsome, one-armed strangers waltz in wearing leather jackets, tight jeans, and boots that make her mouth drop open and she didn’t regret it at all. He smiled shyly at her as he approached the counter. “Hi there, how can I help you?” She asked with her best charming smile. The man returned it politely and pulled an unevenly folded sheet of notebook paper from his pocket, slightly poking his tongue out between his pursed lips as he struggled to unfold it with one hand. Allura waited patiently, sensing that he would be put off by an offer of assistance. “I was hoping to do a consultation to maybe get one of these done on my chest.” He said, having finally opened the page flat on the counter.

The lions littering the page were Keith’s work. There was no doubt in her mind. Allura had tattooed enough of his drawings on his own skin that she’d be able to pick them out in the dark if the lines were drawn hard enough. “Where did you get this?” She asked, trying not to sound hostile. Art theft was rampant in the tattooing community and she wouldn’t let it happen to one of her best customers, especially since she also considered him a close friend. The man’s cheeks went pink and he stuttered a bit. “My friend is an artist.” He started, clearing his throat before continuing. “We went to the zoo and he was sketching, so I asked him to draw some of the lions for me.” Allura eyed him suspiciously for a moment. “Does this friend have a name?” She asked. The man looked immediately affronted. “Keith.” He said plainly. “Look, I can go somewhere else if you want.” His voice took on a hardened edge.

Everything clicked into place for her with that. The leather jacket and jawline that could cut glass should have clenched it immediately, but she was an artist not a detective. The new “friend” Keith had mentioned spending time with, the one he’d been going on and on about how sweet and kind and strong he was. He’d mentioned their date to the zoo to Allura during his last tattooing session, having absolutely denied it was a date, because “there’s no way someone like him is into someone like me, Allura, come on.” She held up her hands, “No, no, I’m sorry. Keith comes here a lot is all, I recognized his work and wanted to make sure you hadn’t stolen it.” His eyes and his posture softened at her words. “Oh, ok. Well that’s really cool of you, actually.” He said with a faraway smile. “His work is pretty one of a kind, isn’t it?” Allura tried hard not to giggle. He was absolutely done for and it was painfully obviously written clear across his face.

“It is absolutely unique and gorgeous.” She agreed. “And I think any of these would look great on you, which one’s your favorite?” She asked, the vibe of the conversation having eased back into a much more friendly one. “I was thinking this one.” She smiled as he pointed at a drawing that was very reminiscent of the one she’d just done on Keith. The lion was sitting in this one, not standing, facing slightly to the right this time. His mane was fluffed and blowing in the breeze, and he had that same hint of dangerous, predatory energy while still appearing aloof and regal.

“Great choice.” She replied sincerely. “I’ve done a lot of Keith’s work, I’m more than comfortable freehanding it, but I’m happy to use a stencil if that’s what you’d prefer.” She pulled a binder out of the desk drawer and laid it on the table, hundreds of small photos of her previous work was lovingly arranged in the plastic sleeves. The middle had a divider. “Up here is stenciled work, and the back is freehand. Feel free to take your time looking.”

She observed him as he poured through the book, comparing several pictures from the front and back in turns. Keith had described him as breathtaking, and he certainly wasn’t wrong. The scar across the bridge of his nose only made him more handsome, somehow sharpening his features even further than nature already had. She had to stifle a laugh as she noticed him clack the barbell in his tongue against the roof of his mouth while deep in thought. Keith had never stood a chance. He looked up at her with another polite smile. “I think freehand is fine. Your work is really incredible.” Praises for her art were the quickest path to excellent service. She’d gladly bend over backwards for a polite customer who claimed to be a fan.

“I’m so glad you think so.” She answered with a bright smile. “When were you thinking?” He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar. “When’s your next available appointment?” She pulled open her own shop calendar and hummed in thought. “Well, I have a Tuesday at 4:30. Or if you’ve not had any aspirin or alcohol in about 12 hours, we could do it now. I don’t have anyone else scheduled for 3 hours. That should be plenty of time provided it’s going in this area.” She made a circle with her hands in the air around one of his pecs. His eyes widened a little. “Or if you need more time to think about it. No rush.” He smiled wide.

“No, now is perfect. Keith’s away for work, so I’ll be able to show it off all healed up by the time he gets back.” Allura returned his grin and had him sign all the usual paperwork. He finally introduced himself as Shiro. She couldn’t wait for the frantic messages from Keith when he finally saw Shiro’s tattoo of his drawing. Allura led him back to the sterile tattooing room trying not to snicker about Keith’s reaction, it was sure to be priceless.

“Oh uh…” Shiro started, clearly nervous. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Before we get started. There’s um. There’s kind of a lot…” Allura waited patiently again as he tried to find the right words. “There’s a lot of scarring. The spot I want the ink doesn’t have much, but it might be hard to look at.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes as he spoke. “Don’t worry about that at all. I promise there’s nothing you can show me that I would run from.” She meant it sincerely, and he appeared to not mistake it for a platitude, offering her a kind smile in return. “And, if I may be so bold.” She added quietly. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels that way.” Shiro knew, of course, who she meant. A dark blush spread its way across his cheeks. “Here’s to hoping.” He replied with a slight chuckle.

He pulled the white shirt up over his head and with a practiced motion. She took in the scars around his missing arm first, they looked faded and pink- clearly an old injury. There were several other scars across his chest and stomach, some deep and still an angry purplish color, others not as severe and closer to the tone of his skin. “Not even close to the worst thing I’ve seen.” She said as she pulled on her gloves and set about opening all of the fresh packages. “Let me tell you about the ridiculous frat boy that came in a few years back.” She started her story as she set about preparing his skin for the ink. “You’ll NEVER believe what he wanted.” She pulled back and made a disgusted face. “Or where.” Shiro visibly relaxed and laughed a bit, coaxing her for the rest of the story as she started.

TO BE CONTINUED

[laurasfox-originals]

When The Right One Comes Along - Ch. 1 excerpt (Spark & Stone Side Story, Patreon Exclusive) by Laura S. Fox

This is an excerpt from the first chapter of the side story I wrote for Spark & Stone, featuring Michael and Jess. 

Chapter One - Just A Mistake

Michael watched amused as his best friend scurried away with the young man he hoped to seduce. Aidan Spark was sweeter than candy, and Michael was genuinely surprised by Heath’s choice. It smelled like romance in the air, even though Heath would be quick to deny it, as always.

People who knew both of them often asked how come they weren’t together, that close they were. Not at the moment, as each of them was carefully building a reputation in their respective fields, but they were still best friends and would be forever. The right answer to anyone wondering about them was quite simple: where Michael was a compulsive romantic, Heath was a compulsive conqueror and one-night-stander. Therefore, no relationship of the kind could exist between them.

The part about being irremediably in love with the idea of being in love was still valid, but Michael seemed to lose faith in it with each passing day. Good guys seemed hard to find. He was a tiny bit jealous of Heath’s finding. But Aidan Spark was clearly smitten with the fitness guru, even though he seemed in denial over it.

Michael was about to decide who he should ask to dance only for the sake of being the charming host he always was when one of the bouncers walked over to him and informed him that someone looking to get hired as a dancer was interested in talking to him.

That was an odd time for an interview, but Michael ran a nightclub, and the idea of evaluating a new talent sounded like a good break from his usual Saturday routine. Should he have been in a relationship, he would have had a totally different arrangement, but relationships didn’t tend to stick in his case. As much as he desired to be involved with someone, things never appeared to work out for him.

“Send him to the room with the dancing pole,” Michael instructed the bouncer and headed in that direction, as well.

He had managed to educate all the personnel, including the people guarding the door, to have an eye for hot people. At least, the guy he would meet in the dancing pole room would be a looker. And Michael would just let him down gently in case he sucked as a dancer. There were always other openings, like waiter positions.

He had taken his drink with him and sat comfortably in the only armchair in the room. Michael liked lavish interiors, but for the purpose, this room had been left only sparsely appointed.

He caressed the glass rim, musing in expectation. Why had he always been so obsessed about relationships? Time and time again, he had sent plenty of hot guys packing for being too superficial, too interested in having fun only, or way into considering that being gay automatically meant that open relationships were the norm.

Someone knocked politely on the door and waited.

“Come in,” Michael said and stared curiously at the door.

A man walked in, and Michael took in his graceful walk. He didn’t notice, for a moment, the elegant slender body, or the man’s handsome face. His trained eye was quickly drawn to the square shoulders, the sinuous movement of the hips, the somewhat lazy way of putting one foot in front of the other.

If the newcomer wanted a job as a cage dancer, Michael was pretty sure he would get it. That was the way only someone with experience in dancing could have walked. But a test was in order anyway.

“Good evening, Mr. Rivers,” the stranger said in a warm, sexy voice. “I apologize for this impromptu visit and my rather inopportune request. I realize that you would be normally busy doing something else right now.”

Michael watched the visitor with growing interest, as he stepped into the light. His curly brown hair was cut right under his ears, but it managed to look fashionably haphazard and attractive. His face was what some people would have called a classic beauty, with a straight nose and full lips. Michael could not help noticing the bedroom eyes. They seemed green, and Michael would have liked to see them from up close.

“Please, there’s no harm done. You’re not breaking any rule. These are my office hours, so to speak. May I please know your name?”

“Jess Rotham,” the other replied.

“Nice to meet you, Jess.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Rivers.”

“Please call me Michael. Now, could you tell me something about your experience as a dancer?”

“I have been practicing ballet for the last twenty years,” Jess said, without self-importance. “Since I was four.”

Michael quirked an eyebrow. “This place is hardly a venue where such talents would be put to good use.”

“I need the job,” Jess said concisely, even a bit abrupt. “Please,” he added.

Now, Michael felt intrigued. He leaned into his seat and watched Jess closely. His body was a classic sculpture, like his face. In other words, a complete knockout, a bit too muscular to be considered a twink, but without the bulk that would have put him in another category. His physical beauty was unique and Michael, with his trained eye, could tell that Jess would be a hit if he chose to dance there.

Provided that he had the moves, too. Michael wasn’t willing to cut this good-looking man any slack. There were other professions where he could excel even if he had the poise of a monkey. Which Michael doubted, but needed to see if for no other purpose than to enjoy what promised to be an outstanding performance.

“Well, the pole is there. Let me just put some music.”

Michael fiddled with his phone, and after a brief deliberation, he chose something a bit wild. Such a sinewy body should have enough fever in it. Michael wanted a show.

The jungle rhythm broke the silence, and Jess seemed a bit startled at first.

“Honey, you’ll need to dance to impress me,” Michael said and smiled. “I see you have the looks, now show me the moves, too. Ah, and I think you’re a bit overdressed. You won’t be able to grab that pole if you keep your pants on.”

Jess seemed affronted, but only for a moment. Michael wasn’t crass; he was just doing his job. After all, Jess wanted to be a dancer in a nightclub. If he wasn’t comfortable with dancing almost naked in front of a single person, how could he perform in a room full of people?

Without a word, Jess began unbuttoning his pants. His moves were a tiny bit defiant, as he pushed his pants down and then proceeded to take off his shirt, too. Michael shifted a little in his chair.

Dressed in nothing but a pair of tight white underwear that allowed anyone interested to observe quite a nice bulge, Jess stepped close to the pole and grabbed it with one hand.

His arms were perfect, Michael thought. That was just a trick to keep himself from staring too much at Jess’s equally perfect butt. He wasn’t there to ogle a stranger, but to decide whether he was a good dancer or not. Sex appeal was part of the deal, but Michael was against making this interview appear as something sleazy.

Nonetheless, while Jess engaged in some pretty dangerous and acrobatic moves, Michael found it more and more difficult to stop looking mainly at his round and shapely ass.

That wasn’t like him. Maybe he should start dating again. As a general rule, Michael was against hooking up. The idea of meeting someone just for sex was a big turn off for him. It made everything appear too base, too primitive. He preferred to know the people he intended to sleep with, before getting between the sheets with them.

On the other hand, his body could not give a damn about his principles. Jess circled the pole with his muscular legs and arched his back until his head almost touched the floor, presenting the perfect form of his abs and pecs while looking at Michael upside down.

Michael was a bit pissed at his own cock right now. That specific part of his anatomy screamed at him to hire Jess. His brain was conspicuously silent.

Well, he was a businessman, after all. If Jess was capable of giving him a boner so quickly, that meant he would be a fascinating addition to the dancing crew.

The music stopped, and Michael picked his phone only so that he could chill a little before starting to talk to Jess.

“So? What did you think?” Jess asked as soon as he got down.

Michael didn’t look at him. “Please dress up. Then we’ll go to my office for some preliminary formalities.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

Michael could swear Jess was relieved and surprised at the same time. Could it be that someone like him didn’t know what a great dancer he was? He doubted that. Jess hadn’t come across as someone who faked modesty.

Or maybe the blood from his head was in his cock, and he couldn’t judge things correctly. But, in the end, Jess was there to work as a cage dancer, which basically meant to give guys boners and pleasant dreams. Regardless of how he danced, he was clearly meant for that.

Jess followed him without a word. Michael invited him to his office, and soon, they were both alone. Somehow, Michael felt overly conscious of being in the same room with Jess. It was like suddenly, the atmosphere was intimate. What was he thinking? Hot people did that to anyone. It was just slightly uncomfortable.

He pulled a standard contract from one of the drawers and handed it to Jess to sign it. Jess took it and wrote his name at the bottom of the page without reading the document.

“Aren’t you interested in what the paper says?” Michael asked.

“You have a reputation for being an honest employer,” Jess replied.

“I see. Damn, I wish I had you sign that you’d offer me your firstborn,” Michael joked.

Jess didn’t seem eager to cozy up to his new boss by laughing at his bad jokes. Instead, he seemed intense. His eyes were dark green, as Michael could tell now and they appeared a tad tired.

“Would you like to start tonight?” Michael asked.

“Do I get an outfit?” Jess asked.

“Outfit? Your underwear is perfect.”

Jess seemed a bit taken aback. “Will I have to dance in my underwear?”

Michael frowned. “That’s the idea of a cage dancer. Good as naked, capable of sending good vibes ... I’d say you have it all.”

Jess opened his mouth and then pursed his lips. “I thought I would be somewhere, on the sideline. Not inside a cage.”

“With your moves? No way,” Michael said with a small snort. “What seems to be the problem? You just danced in front of me in nothing but your underwear.”

“That was to get the job,” Jess said. “I wouldn’t do something so overtly sexual in front of an audience.”

Michael could feel a headache coming up. “You just auditioned for being a dancer at a nightclub where there are striptease and cage dancing on the menu. You got what it takes. A gorgeous body, sexy moves, and even a handsome face. You have the whole package, and you’re telling me what? That you don’t want the job?”

“I do,” Jess said, somewhat defensively. “But I thought it would be something classier than dancing in nothing but underwear.”

Michael sighed. “It’s all right. If you don’t want the job, after all --”

“No, I need it.”

Michael pondered as he looked at Jess. The intense look in his eyes was still there. If he had his head on his shoulders, he would send this guy away. What was with all the fuss?

“Jess,” he tried to speak in an appeasing manner, “you are uncomfortable with being naked around people. Just drop it. And there are many other jobs you can try. Also, if you’re a ballet dancer --”

“Danseur. That’s the correct term,” Jess interrupted him, but he didn’t seem arrogant. Just concerned, like something was bothering him and making him anxious.

“Fine, danseur. If you’re that, go work somewhere that’s more fitting.”

“I could bring some class to your establishment,” Jess said.

Michael felt a bit insulted now. He never got into a fight with anyone, but this handsome danseur was starting to get on his nerves. “I don’t consider that’s something I need here.”

“I’d say you do,” Jess replied and bore his beautiful eyes into his.

“Are you always this confrontational?” Michael asked, with a deeper sigh this time around.

“I’m not confrontational. I’m just coming up with a new idea.”

“Did I say that I need new ideas?” Michael said, now his irritation growing into full-blown annoyance.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t,” Jess pointed out.

“Do you always get people to do things your way just because you’re hot?” Michael asked.

To his surprise, Jess appeared to blush at that, but not due to embarrassment. He seemed angered.

Now that was something. What did he have to be furious about?

“All right. I don’t think things will work out,” Michael said and stood up.

“No, please. Why don’t you just give it a chance? What’s for you to lose?”

Michael couldn’t quite believe his ears. “Why do you want this job, Jess? You’re not cut for it.”

“I don’t want to be in the spotlight,” Jess said. “I only want to be one of the entertainers. I can do lap dances and whatnot --”

“Lap dances?” Michael realized a bit too late that he was shouting.

“I need the money,” Jess said quietly.

“And you plan to do lap dances? I have a mind to throw you out this very moment, mister!”

“Why? You don’t think I can?”

Michael ground his teeth. He should have known that normal people, exotic dancers or not, didn’t just knock on doors at midnight on a Saturday night, to get hired out of the blue. He had a mind to tell Jess that his club wasn’t that kind of club and that dancers never did lap dances or anything similar.

“Sit here, and I’ll give you a lap dance,” Jess said, and pointed at the chair he had stood on until earlier.”

“No, thanks,” Michael said dryly.

“Why? Are you afraid that I might prove you wrong?” Jess said, this time with defiance.

All right. This little shit was getting on his nerves. It wasn’t like Michael to let people get to him this way, but right now he was itching to take this guy down a notch or two. Ballet for twenty years? For what? Lap dances? Jess had to be out of his mind.

With brusque moves, Michael grabbed the chair and sat on it, crossing his arms. “So?” he challenged the other. “Get to work.”

“Music?”

“I think you can do without. Gentlemen asking for lap dances are more interested in a visual performance.”

And also, not accepted in his nightclub.

Jess shrugged as if that wasn’t important anyway. He approached Michael and suddenly straddled his chair without touching him at all. Michael wanted to tell him that he should be naked for that kind of dance, but since he was allowing, against his better judgment, this guy to make a fool of himself, he needed to keep his mouth shut.

Michael inhaled as Jess moved lasciviously, along his body like a snake, but again, without making contact. That wasn’t such a good idea; Jess’s clean sweat from the earlier exertion smelled heavenly.

Seriously, as Heath would have put it, he needed to get laid.

What the hell was he thinking, anyway? He was in his office, with a current employee - whether he liked it or not - and getting a lap dance. Anyone walking in on him would have said that he totally lost his mind.

Jess continued to move, undulating his body as if there was no bone left in it, looked Michael in the eyes and bit his bottom lip, the gleam in his eyes a promise and provocation.

“Okay. I think you proved your point,” Michael said in a strange voice.

“Are you sure? I don’t think you’re convinced.”

Jess laughed as he moved closer. Michael risked a look to the side, only to see Jess moving that lovely ass like a professional twerker. A sudden itch to smack that ass made him move his eyes away.

“No. I mean it. It’s more than enough,” Michael said again.

“Are you chicken?” Jess laughed again.

“That’s it,” Michael said through his teeth.

He grabbed a handful of curly hair, making Jess gasp in shock. The second time he did that was because Michael used his other hand to slap his ass hard.

Oh, shit, Michael thought as he realized what he had just done. Jess was looking at him with those intense eyes.

So the guy was trouble, after all. Michael dropped his arms and tried to get up, but Jess took him by surprise. He lowered himself in Michael’s lap, so hard that Michael felt his boner crushed under the weight.

Not that he minded. The pressure was amazing, taking the edge off. It was then his turn to gasp as Jess closed his lips over his mouth.

End of excerpt

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