#swarovski near me

[eleganzadellarosa]

Can’t Do It Like Me

pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader

genre: Smut (you already know)

warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)

word count: 4.1K+

A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.

Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.

Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.

But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.

Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.

“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”

He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.

Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.

“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.

You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.

It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.

"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.

buzz buzz

You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.

"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.

He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."

"Oh is he an asshole or something?"

"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.

You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.

Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.

San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.

He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.

He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.

“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.

“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”

It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.

“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”

At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”

He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.

Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.

After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.

“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”

“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.

“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”

You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”

He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”

If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.

But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.

This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.

"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.

Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.

He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.

"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”

He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.

You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.

You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.

“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"

He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.

“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”

“San…” he put a finger to your lips.

“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.

So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.

A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”

He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.

“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”

He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.

Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.

“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”

You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.

“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.

He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.

“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.

As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.

“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.

“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.

“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”

“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.

He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.

“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."

He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.

“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”

You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.

There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.

“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.

San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”

He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.

“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.

“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”

You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.

"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.

The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.

"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.

"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.

By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"

He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."

"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"

"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."

And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you're left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hate the mall. Too bright. Too loud. Too fast. 

That day isn’t so bad. Tuesday, mid-morning. Most people are at work. Not you. Your part-time gig barely pays the bills, let alone keeps you busy. With that in mind, you shouldn’t be there to spend what little you have.  

It’s for a good cause. It’s your grandmother’s birthday next week and you owe her. After all she’s done, you owe much more than just a measly mall-bough gift but it’s all you can manage right now. One day it will be better. One day you will be able to pay her back. At least you keep telling yourself that. 

She paid for it all. Your way out, your lawyer, your apartment even. You can’t live in the senior’s community with her, that’s against the rules, but she parsed out some of her nest egg for the flat in the old brick building. For you. She’s the only one who ever did so much for you but what did you ever do for her? 

It’s not for lack of trying, only your own poor decisions. 

You enter the sparkling Swarovski store and keep your arms tight to your body, paranoid of breaking any of the numerous crystal pieces. You don’t know what she would like. It isn’t because you don’t know her well, you just don’t think she has much use for any of it. She’s always been painfully practical. That’s why you never wanted to ask her for help. 

An associate startles you as she appears beside you in her sleek black pantsuit. She offers help but you get the sense she’s checking in, making sure your hands aren’t sneaking into your pockets. You make sure to keep them visible and move your satchel across your back. You tell her you’re just looking and blow out between your dry lips. Maybe a hoodie wasn’t the best choice. 

It was meant to be a solution. You wanted to get out of your grandmother’s hair. How long had you been living with her? He was the answer to that. You thought so. You wanted to believe it. For ten years, you tried. He always spoiled it. 

Then she had to bail you out anyway. 

As you come to the sharp corner of a shelf, you’re startled by another customer. You hadn’t seen them when you came in or heard them. You glance at them fleetingly and turn your attention to the shelf of Mickey Mouse decorations. Definitely not those. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” the man frightens you again as he nears and presses his hand to your back. He sidles by, and you dodge away from him, coming dangerously close to colliding with the display of birthstone necklaces. 

You shake off the close brush and blink at the glass. You peek over at the man as he seems overly interested in a paper weight shaped like a dove. His mustache and sleek haircut make him look like he’s been plucked out of some gangster period piece.  

The associate shifts from one side of the counter to the other. She’s watching you. You sigh. She still thinks you’re a thief. You shake your head and leave. 

It’s not worth the trouble or the money. You can find something better. You know you could get your grandma a box of chocolates and a card and she’d say she’s happy. You don’t want to get her what works; you want to do something for someone. Something more than just be there. 

You go down to Hallmark. It’s a similar atmosphere with a hint of warmness and more range in price. Still too much Disney and not enough variety. Your grandmother doesn’t need a rustic crate or a door sign with some snarky saying about wine. 

You stop to look at cards. You can at least grab one of those. As you reach for one along the top row, another hand swipes it from your grasp. You back up and look at the culprit. It’s the same man as the Swarovski shop. Strange. 

You recoil and scurry down the aisle towards the door. Is he following you? It could be a coincidence. Two stores. If he’s looking for a gift too, it makes sense. 

You cross your arms and march quickly through the bright mall, the skylight glaring down at you. You walk in and out of a clothes shop. You don’t know where you’re going now. You’re frazzled. 

You find your way to the As Seen on TV shop and meander around without intent. You’re at a loss. You’ll just end up at the bookstore like always. Another book for her birthday. Wowee. 

She might like the salt rock light. You don’t know. Ugh. 

It isn’t the gift. It isn’t her. It’s you. You’re indecisive. You're lost. Even if it was misery, you miss having someone to tell you what to do. Now you have to think and you do too much of that. 

“Those are pretty cool,” a voice slices through your self-pity. 

It’s the same man. Your eyes meet as you look up to see him. You blanch and open and close your mouth. The shop is so small, how hadn’t you heard him? 

You retreat without a word. He must be following you. There’s no other explanation. What do you do? You can’t just lead him out of the mall, back to your building, but how can you divert him? 

You find a bench down the next aisle of the mall, somewhere the associates in the vitamin store can see you. You’re safe there with people around. You look up and down, searching for the man and his mustache. Just a mother with her stroller. 

You’re paranoid. Stupid, just like he said. It’s all in your head. You’re just fucked up. You don’t know how to live in this world. Not alone. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the timbre tickles up the back of your spine and you twist to see the figure behind you. It’s an officer in uniform. “Mind if I ask ya something?” 

You nod and blink. You don’t like the cops. You haven’t spoken to them since the night it all came crashing down. The flashing lights, the sirens, the questions. It’s all a haze yet it’s stamped into your psyche. 

“Yes, sir,” you stand. 

He’s got dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. His shoulders bear a slant of authority as he has his hands on his hips. He’s taller than you, but so is everyone. You look across the bench at him as his white shirt pokes out from under his leather jacket, his belly straining the fabric. 

“You don’t gotta trouble yerself,” he shows his palm and reaches with his other hand to his belt, “I’m lookin’ for someone and was wonderin’ if maybe ya saw him.” 

“Oh?” You crinkle your forehead. 

“Got a pic somewhere,” he frees his phone from the clip on his belt and flicks his thumb over the screen, “here we are.” 

He turns the cell toward you and you can’t help but make a face. The image is blurry but it’s definitely that same man. You look back the way you came and gulp. 

“Reckon by that, you’ve seen him,” the officer says. “Sheriff Bodecker,” he introduces as he retracts his hand, “I’m doing an investigation. Mind if I ask some more questions?" 

“Well, I... didn’t talk to him.” 

“That’s fine,” he peers down in the same direction you did. The infant in its stroller begins to yawl and his cheek ticks, “how about you come out to my cruiser and we’ll do it there? Less ruckus?” 

You purse your lips. You can’t really say no, he might think you know that guy, whoever he is, whatever he’s done. You shrug. You don’t have much to say. You’re sure it won’t be much of an interview. 

“Okay,” you agree.” 

[embrosegraves]

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕚𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕊𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘

Just a lil something I thought of and couldn't get out of my head :P I hope you enjoy <3

Max Verstappen x Reader  “If you can justify the purchase, then you can buy it for me.” Sugar Daddy x Slightly Reluctant! Sugar Baby

very brief google translated dutch (it's like 2 thing near the end)

You weren’t sure how you managed to get to this point in your life. One night you were working at your local club, trying to make ends meet with three jobs. You needed to pay for rent and utilities and food and the ever looming University degree you had begun studying for. You never thought you’d ever get to a point of financial comfortability, because the situation definitely wasn’t the most stable but it was comfortable. 

At first you thought he was just another rich snob who wanted to impress his mates with the amount of money he could spend on a single night. And to be fair he kinda was. He just also happened to be the one that sat with you while you worked the bar, listening to your woes of being a uni student who needed to work more than one job throughout the day on top of going to class.  

Now though, almost exactly 3 years after first meeting him, you couldn’t believe what you were looking at. 

“I’m not letting you buy that for me, Max.”

“Why not?” He was almost (definitely) pouting. 

“Because I can buy my own laptop? And besides, my final year is almost over, I can get it after.” 

Max looked at you unimpressed. “The one you have now is falling apart. You need a new one.”

You grabbed his hand and slowly led him to a bench that was outside the store you were just standing in. “My love, I adore that you want to get me a new laptop for school, but you cannot justify spending three and a half million dollars on a laptop for me. I don’t care if it’s Swarovski, I don’t care if it’s the best laptop in the world. I don’t need it.”

It was always like this between you and Max. He wanted to buy you the most insanely expensive things just because he could, but you always told him not to. Looking at him in front of you, his face sporting an almost unnoticeable frown, you sighed. Keeping hold of his hand in yours, you moved your free hand to cradle his face. 

“I will let you buy me a laptop-” His face lit up, “on the condition that it cost no more than eight thousand. I know I cannot get you to spend like a regular person, so that will be the cap on how much you spend on my laptop.”

“You never let me do anything fun.” Max was pouting again, but you could see his eyes were happy. 

“Well, that’s tough Schat. If it makes you feel better, after you get the laptop because I’m not budging on that, you can buy me whatever you want-” You held your hand in front of him before Max could interrupt and start celebrating, “but you have to be able to properly justify the purchase. Which means no more mindless spending on things, okay?” 

He pulled you in and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “As long as I still get to spoil you, like you deserve, then I will agree to your conditions.” 

You felt as he placed a kiss on your head before you moved back. You gave him a kiss on his lips and smiled at him. 

“Go. I can tell you’re just wanting to find a laptop to get me.”

He laughed and kissed you again before grabbing your hands and leading to a different tech store for your new laptop. “Let’s go then, Mijn Liefje!”

Translations (Provided by Google Translate) Schat = Darling Mijn Liefje = My Love

[s-4pphics]

a lil meanmechanic!ellie and snobbybitch!reader hc list bc i’m clinically ill and my dark thoughts always win i was gonna write a lil fic but i got tired lol long day 

but hopefully thisll suffice for now😚idk how many imma make for them but the sex gon go crazy

wc;cw: 930 real short n sweet, slutty rude annoying rich!oc, i’m not kidding she’s a bad person, more monologues when will it end, oc is horny and a top letting y’all know rn, imma make this toxic🤭

your shiny brand new pink bentley just stopped working! what the fuck! 

after your dad gifted you your third new car, he instructed you to pull up to the swarovski store and pick up your sparkly limited edition lavender tinted lux chrono watch…. and this happens!

how the fuck were you going to get your new watch without transportation?!

you pulled your phone outta your chanel bag and googled car stopped help…

call a tow truck?!

don’t people just buy new cars when they stop working?! 

you dialed the first number suggested online 

“YELLO!” a friendly gruff voice came through the phone

“ummm, hi, my car stopped working— “

“okay, great! where’s your car located?”

“it’s uh.. near this mall complex.” 

“…okay. i mean…. i mean what’s the address?”

…. you don’t fucking know, you’re stranded!

after spending the next ten minutes asking strangers where the hell you were, you irritatingly whined the address to the man on the phone

why does nothing go your way?!

“okay great! we’ll be there in about an hour to get it!” 

an hour?!

but your swarovski watch—!

“hello?” 

“…yeah, whatever.” you said, hanging up.

this is fucking stupid!

after an hour of angrily pouting in your front seat, you saw a red truck pull up behind you in your rearview 

fucking finally!

you got out your new baby and saw—

oh, fuck

oh fuck!

WEEEEEEWOOOOOOWWEEEEEE—

your brain was sending off red alarms!

behind the man, there was a girl in overalls and a wife-beater, dirty sneakers(yuck!), and a bandana on to keep her sweaty hair outta her face

and your mood immediately got better! 

she’s sexy she’s sexy she’s sexy she’s sexy—

“um, hi! ‘m joel! you called for a tow?” 

oh yeah

“y-yup! that’s me! my cars over there,” you pointed in some random direction as you stared at the girl 

“….okay, uh, we’ll get that loaded and we’ll head over to the repair shop!”

“uh huh,” you were so dazed as you watched her biceps ripple as she got some paperwork outta the car 

“….right!” and he walked away

she’s coming over oh god she’s coming over!

“hey. this your car?”

“mhm!” 

you looked at her name tag 

ellie

hm…wanna fuck?—

“cool. just need you to sign here. we’ll do the diagnosis when we get to the shop—“

you didn’t even care about what the fuck she was saying

you wanna eat her out so bad and buy her whatever she wants 

you work so hard, baby, lemme take the stress away! 

“…are you gonna sign…or?”

you were too busy looking at her freckled face and scarred eyebrows to notice she was holding a clipboard out to you 

how about you sign these damn wedding papers! 

“sorry!”

“it’s cool…yeah, just sign at the bottom.” 

she pointed at the dotted line with her calloused finger and you almost sucked it into your mouth! 

turn her out turn her out!

she finally met your eyes 

you wanted her clit in your mouth—!

“um… you can hop in the truck and we’ll head over, it’s like.. 20 minutes—“

“great! let’s go!”

ride my face!

when you arrived at the dealership, you got…. uncomfortable. 

why was it so loud and… grungy looking?

the nice man that answered the phone—joel— guided you into the garage and ushered you to sit on…. dirty chairs and you wanted god to strike you down now

“we’re gonna take a look at your car! it’s in pretty good condition so it shouldn’t be long!” joel screamed at you from the garage exit

you sat and nodded and 

you looked so outta place in here 

pastel colors, shimmery necklace and bracelets, heels!

you stood out like a sore thumb!

rusted, eggshell walls, dimly lit, dusty floor

you wanna leave so bad what the fuck—

“hey!” 

sike you wanna stay ellie’s so fucking fine—

“your car battery’s connection is loose, we’re gonna replace it—“

“today's my birthday!”

you were biting your lip and looking at her with glossy lust filled eyes and you wanted your head between her thighs—

“….’scuse me?”

“it’s my birthday!”

“happy….. happy birthday?” 

“thank you!” now lemme give you head—

“uh huh….. so, the replacement battery is gonna be $60, i can ring you up right now so you're not waiting when your car’s charged.”

you followed her to the desk and….

her fucking back and her shoulders and her ass—

her back her back! you wanna scratch it and make her scream!—

“cash or card?”

“card. my black card!” she needa know you’ll buy her everything—

“….right. go ‘head and swipe.”

you wanna swipe your tongue on her pussy!

but you swiped your card 

and you also reached in your chanel and grabbed a couple hundreds out

“here you go! for your troubles!” 

“what.”

“you fixed my baby! you should get a huge tip! like a really…. really fat one!

lemme give you this tip!

she must’ve noticed your tone, nastily sweet like honey, because her eyes widened before she let out a shocked scoff

you have her you have her—

“are you kidding me right now?” 

what. 

“hm?”

“i’m askin’ if you’re fucking serious? we don’t accept charity.” and she got up

and she looked mad

what the hell?

“w-what! no, it’s not like that— “

“yeah, whatever, your car will be ready in 20. you can take your money and get the hell out.” 

and she stormed off with a slam of the back door. 

…..

oh my god?

…

you want her even more now! 

[overrboarrd]

roman reigns x rogue [oc]

word count : 3.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol and smoking, vulgar language, suggestive content

a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend…she’s baaack! the first chapter is relatively the same, i just did a few minor changes. i also realized i wanted to switch it from a self-insert to an original character for story purposes. if you’ve read the first version, welcome back! and to those who are new to me, i hope you enjoy! <3

CHAPTER ONE: ACQUAINTED

There was a sea of them.

Loosely unbuttoned Brioni suits.

Platinum Audemar Piguets that glistened underneath scarlet lights.

A nauseating deluge of Creed Aventus and Tom Ford cologne circulated through the atmosphere. VIXENS. The neon sign above the stage so boldly revealed what the clients were there to spend ‘hard earned’ money on. Some were fresh blood, possibly there to have a brief escape from their mundane lives. Or more frequently, engaged men grieving their final taste of true freedom, surrounded by friends that solemnly swore to never reveal the infidelities of the night. The most lucrative men, however, were few and far between. They would enter through the tall obsidian doors, eyes roaming through the crowd for one woman. Until then, they’d saunter to a concealed section towards the back of the club. Twenty dollar bills would fall to the floor, while two to three hand picked dancers kept the charitable donors entertained as they waited.

She took one last look over her body. Heart-shaped lips rubbed against each other, their deep red color contrasting against her golden brown skin. Her hands ran through wavy crimson extensions, making sure they were secured properly to her head. Swarovski crystals embellished black patent leather that barely covered the most intimate parts of her body. A deep sigh escaped her lips, while a guttural, nagging voice played in the back of her mind.

‘I will not tolerate a whore for hire as my daughter.’

‘You will not be a part of this family.’

She shook her head, gathering her thoughts as she walked up to the closed curtain. A millisecond later, the announcer’s gruff voice boomed into the microphone.

“Gentleman, I introduce you to our main event of the evening. La charmante et mystérieuse dame en Rouge!”

Applause erupted from the crowd as the main lights dimmed, a single spotlight highlighted where the large fabric started to divide. Slowed music with hints of echoes and reverb flooded the speakers. Whistles traveled randomly throughout the club as she made her way to the center of the stage, her hands delicately grabbing the silver pole. She walked languidly in a circle, eyes meeting familiar faces. Many of her high paying regulars were there. Their lustful eyes roamed the sparkling garment that adorned her. She relinquished control to the music that pulsated through her veins, her back pressing against the cold metal as she inched to the floor, legs spread and chest perched. Her routine was the same almost every night; The main stage dance, which differed slightly depending on the night, the walk through the crowd, and then the final walk back to the stage. She always managed to keep the same three marks: dance for a group near the stage, give a quick lap dance to one of her regulars near the middle, then tease one of the moguls at the section in the back, just to keep the boss happy and well paid.

Each move was executed flawlessly. Jaws fell to the floor, pockets emptied by the second. Her fingers caressed the shoulder of an eager gentleman who quickly began to tremble underneath her touch. A smirk spread across her face as she made her way to the back section, shoulders high while her heart raced in anticipation.

Inhale. Exhale. Fifteen thousand. Almost halfway there. Her chest tightened with every step, the goal within reach, but each bill felt heavier than the last. It wasn't just about the money. It was everything—her studio, her family, the fear that her soul might get lost in the atmosphere of Vixen’s before she could make it out. The internal encouragement barely soothed her nerves, while her heels clacked across the black floor to the relaxed tempo of the music.

Three unfamiliar figures lounged against the corner leather couch.

Two gazes lingered on her attire as she arrived in the middle of their section.

One clenched jaw almost went unnoticed.

An unwavering pair of dilated pupils stared at her as her hands traveled down the front of her body, slowly making their way to the floor. Her derrière emulated ocean waves while she held her ankles. Two of the men, twins from what she observed, were in fitted black crew necks, with black slacks to match. If it wasn’t for the stark difference in their hairstyles, she wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. The duo followed the club’s protocol, grinning while throwing a few bills and keeping their hands to themselves. Their companion, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic. His hair was slicked back into a neat bun, all 42 muscles in his face were relaxed, perfectly unreadable. His hands clasped together, thumb running over the 24 karat gold band that wrapped around his index finger, posture still somewhat upright.

It threw her off, to say the least.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, shifting her attention to the stoic man. Her stomach knotted as she met his gaze. There was something about him—an authority, a quiet confidence that clashed violently with the sleaze surrounding him. It wasn’t just his size or his looks; it was the intensity behind his stillness, as if he could see right through her, past the dance, past the act. She walked around the small table in the middle of the section to stand directly in front of him. His eyes never left hers. Not when her palms pressed against his shoulders, cleavage spilling over the shiny black leather as she straddled his muscular thighs. Not when she slid a perfectly manicured finger underneath the thin straps on her shoulder, causing it to cascade down her arms. His composed expression did cease to exist, however, when the garment almost completely revealed her breasts. Large tawny hands flew to her chest, unintentionally cupping the soft mounds as he held the fabric against her.

“Get up.” His deep voice commanded firmly, carrying loud enough for the tables nearest to them to hear.

A small gasp escaped her lips as she blinked, body frozen in place, completely taken aback. Her eyes scanned the crowd for security. The four men, gargantuan in their own right, didn’t dare move from their positions against the wall. ‘No touching the dancers.’ The sign posted near the entrance was as clear as day. It was then she became acutely aware of her audience’s eyes still on her. The heart that raced in anticipation only a few minutes earlier now pounded in embarrassment. Small trembling hands pushed the stranger’s rather large ones away from her, pulling the bustier to its correct position. Her eyes met his again. Stunned. She swung her legs over his, quickly removing herself from his lap, hoping their small scene wasn’t too noticeable. As she turned to leave, a tight grip wrapped around her wrist. A thick wad of hundred dollar bills, folded neatly in a blue rubber band, was placed in her hand. She threw a hardened glare the man’s way as she left their section, trying to disregard the flames that blazed throughout her body.

Though she did her best to perform the remainder of her set unfazed, the crowd’s energy was drastically different than before. Multiple stares alternated between her place on the broad stage and the dim area where she once was. A few clients left before she finished. The other dancers whispered amongst themselves while she briskly walked backstage towards the locker room, barely making it through the door before a forceful yank pulled her back.

“What the hell was that?” A hoarse voice breathed down her neck, the acrid stench of cigarette smoke permeated her nostrils. She turned her face up in disgust before snatching her arm away from the gaunt man.

“Oh I’m sorry Vince, did my dance mess up your deal? ” She huffed sarcastically, taking a few steps to create some distance between them, leaning against the blotchy wall in the narrow hallway.

“That was hardly a dance.” His chapped lips formed into a scowl.

Her shoulders shrugged carelessly. “No one told you to watch me like a hawk.” She bickered. “Besides, your sugar daddy told me to get off of him. Wasn’t my fault.” Another small knot formed in her stomach as the stranger’s smooth voice replayed in her head. His firm touch still lingered on her skin. “How important is this one, anyway?” She inquired before thinking. Vince never shared too much about his investors, all she knew was that a few of them would randomly show up at the club during the week. Vince would call herself and about four of the best dancers into his office to let them know that major clients were there, and that they needed to give them their utmost attention. Whatever they said, went, with no questions asked.

“His name is Roman Reigns. Just know that he could pay us very well.” Vince curtly answered, sparing whatever details about his arrangement with the extremely reticent man. She mindlessly toyed with the stack of money in her hand while Vince’s nonsense about the ‘importance of the elite clientele’ went in one ear and out the other. Wasting the little breath that he truly needed to save.

Long, grimy fingers snatched the roll of bills from her grasp. “Since you blatantly ruined what would’ve been the biggest investment for the club this year, I’ll take this for my troubles.” A smug smile spread across his face, and before she could protest, Vince’s hunched back turned towards her. Leaving her beyond infuriated and at least a thousand dollars short.

The longer Mr. Reigns and company resided in the back of the club, the more spectators decided to end their festivities early. None of her regulars requested their usual private dances, and almost all of her earnings came from hammered guests who’d try disputing their drunken splurges with their bank first thing in the morning. She did her best to secure new clients and avoid the trio for the remainder of the night, to both of which she had no avail. After admitting defeat to regaining the money Vince graciously took from her, she took her final trip of the night to the locker room. It was almost empty, most of the other girls left once they got done performing. The highlight of the job, or the club really, was that no one’s shift needed to be longer than a few hours. Especially if they were highly esteemed. Fortunately, she was. Unfortunately, it had seemed some of her rapport was ruined due to her encounter with Roman.

Misplaced lipsticks and bobby pins were scattered everywhere while she sat at the extended vanity. She stuffed the gray duffle bag with drugstore makeup, heels, and her jewelry that she began to take off until the repulsive smell of nicotine surrounded her again. The sound of a flicked lighter pierced her ears, a small, soft yellow glow appeared in the reflection of the mirror.

“What now?”

“Go put your heels back on. You got a private dance in ten.”

Her body swiveled in the metal chair, confusion etched on her face. “All of my regulars left.”

Vince’s pull from the cigarette was unnecessarily drawn out. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth where he exhaled the virulent smoke.

“Roman would like to see you. Alone.”

————

It was supposed to be like every other night.

Go to the club. Get on stage. Get the money. Go home.

How she ended up in a completely new outfit, on the way to perform for the same man who ruined her entire routine earlier, was beyond her. After Vince barged in the locker room informing her of the last minute encore, he advised her to change and reminded her to do whatever Roman wished. The last thing she wanted to do was possibly ruin his deal again and lose more money, so she reluctantly obliged. Her attire this time was much simpler. No crystals or embellishments, or anything to bring any more attention to herself. ‘Ironic.’ She thought. Chills crept up her spine as she walked closer towards the private suites. When she tried to do her job, he wouldn’t let her. ‘So why the hell does he want to see me now?’ Her mind scanned over an imaginary list that yielded no answer.

Two knocks.

She exhaled a shaky breath. Then she entered.

He was already seated on the red channeled loveseat, a glass of scotch, neat, sat on the small table beside him. And like their first encounter earlier, his eyes latched onto hers. The music, reminiscent of a classic Janet Jackson song played through the overhead speaker. She stood still for a moment, afraid to make another wrong move. Terrified, to risk the job that allowed her to achieve her dream. An internal ‘pull yourself together’ spoke softly, before she decided to proceed with her routine.

She took a few slow steps forward, easily finding a pace to complement the music. Her petite hands caressed every curve of her body as she walked, with slim fingers that glided down the valley between her breasts and around to her wide hips. It was then Roman’s eyes followed the trail her fingers left. He sat up and leaned slightly leaned forward, his elbows rested on his thighs as she inched closer to him. Her short path from the door ended right in front of him, and his brown eyes worked their way up her body before meeting hers again. He reclined back into the couch, legs spread wide. A wordless gesture inviting her to stand between them that she hesitantly accepted. Her body continued to flow with the music without touching him- given his abrupt reaction from earlier.

She took the liberty to disrupt the silence between them.

“So, what brings you here tonight?”

“Small talk?” His voice was quiet, playing smoothly in her ear, but the tension in it was hard to miss. “This place isn’t for that.” He paused, just long enough for her to see something flicker in his eyes—regret, hesitation, something that didn’t quite match the ruthless image he was trying to project.

Her involuntary grimace from his harshness caused him to tense.

“Needed the distraction.” He offered a short answer.

She nodded silently in response. Her eyes lowered, avoiding his prolonged gaze.

He watched as she continued to maneuver effortlessly, her body perfectly aligned, head held high. Her arms extended gracefully outward, fingers delicately splayed on the back of the couch as she circled him. He felt a rush of adrenaline and a heightened awareness of his own senses-some which he hadn’t felt in years. Each of her movements flowed seamlessly into the next, like a river meandering through a serene landscape. The rapid beat of his heart betrayed his usual unmoved demeanor, struck by her grace and skill. She was mesmerizing, and he found himself admiring her physical prowess and the confidence she exuded, as if she was absorbing the music into her very being.

Her legs carried her around the room with purpose, each step, each turn taking her to a new part of the space. She sunk to the floor, her legs extended in a perfect split once she resumed her place in front of him. After ascending from the floor into a poised stance, she allowed herself to fully take him in; staring at his darkened eyes, trailing over his full lips down to his thick beard. Her teeth captured her bottom lip as her eyes moved to his broad shoulders and muscular arms that barely fit in the black long sleeved shirt. Her proximity and the scent of her perfume almost completely overwhelmed him.

Roman picked up the chilled glass, raising it to his lips and taking a slow sip, seeking refuge from the palpable tension between them before meeting her gaze again.

“How badly do you need this job?”

Her head jerked slightly before tilting to one side, brows knitting together and lips turning downward. “What the fuck is your problem?” She was absolutely over it. Vince and every single one of his arrogant, entitled clients could go to the trenches of hell for all she cared. As much as she loved the fast money, she wouldn’t continue to tolerate the disrespect.

“You seem to think you own this place,” her voice stayed calm, but her eyes flashed with anger. “And maybe you will. But don’t act like you own me.”

A scoff escaped Roman’s full lips and his brows raised.

“You should be thanking me for the payday. I know your other clients are only giving you spare change.”

“What payday? You haven’t dropped a dime since you’ve been in here.” She argued.

“The money I put in your hand.” He stated matter-of-factly. “That definitely wasn’t for the show you put on earlier. If that’s what you want to call it.”

It took everything in her not to smack the smug look off of his handsome face. “The money that Vince took due to the show that you ruined, mind you.” Her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head, her legs carrying her away from him. “Who even comes to a strip club if they don’t want to be touched.” Her big eyes bore through his as she stood next to the door.

Roman rose from his position on the couch. His heavy feet stormed over to her and he looked down as his statuesque form towered over her.

“Vince did what?”

Her eyes widened as she mentally slapped herself for letting her anger get the best of her. As much as she couldn’t stand the man, the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize Vixens, especially for the other women. She shook her head, grabbing the door handle. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Here.” He reached out to grab her wrist again to stop her from leaving, and she felt the, presently unwanted, warmth engulf her body. Roman reached in his pocket, pulling out his wallet.

Incautiously, she reached out to stop him, her palm brushing the top of his hand. She retracted it almost immediately after noticing his nostrils flare.

“Don’t tell Vince I gave this back to you.” He commanded, pushing past her and walking out of the suite.

Her pupils followed him as he left, eyes wide, and unblinking as she processed his words. What was he doing? First, he humiliated her, and now this? Her fingers tightened around the cash while her red lips formed a perfect 'O', looking down at the even thicker bundle of money he placed in her hand.

————

‘Vince has lost his mind.’ Roman shot a text to the twins, informing them of his location before he stormed into Vince’s office, catching the son of a bitch with his legs propped on his desk and counting the money that he more than likely shorted from his dancers.

The slimeball shot up from his seat, fumbling to put up the loose bills.

“Mr. Reigns-” He clapped nervously. “Please come in, have a seat.”

“I’ll stand.” Roman snipped.

Vince’s jaw clenched. “How was the rest of your evening? I take it that my Vixens treated you and your companions well?” His eyes looked past Roman’s shoulders to Jimmy and Jey as they stood in the doorway.

His Vixens. Roman restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the dense man. “More or less.” He decided to keep the conversation with Rogue to himself. "Are you ready to talk business?” A single brow raised as he glared at him.

An eager nod came from Vince. He walked to the door, shutting and locking it after the twins fully entered the office.

“Although I have a few propositions to make-” Roman’s gaze lingered on the pile of bills Vince had tried to hide. He didn’t care about the money, but the way Vince treated his girls, especially Rogue—it mattered now. “We have a deal,” Roman said, his voice hard as stone, but his mind was already elsewhere. This was only the beginning.

[buckymorelikefuckme]

freakness on the loose

dark steve rogers x dark fem reader

words: 2.1k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, oral (f receiving), public sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), spitting, implied/referenced violence. if i missed anything pls let me know!

a/n: this is my first dark fic but i feel like it's more dark-lite djdjdnd anyway i hope you all like it! any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

The booming bass of the club thrummed through you, practically making the blood in your veins vibrate. You sway your hips sensually from your perch on the balcony of the luxury VIP room, watching the people below, waving your fingers flirtatiously at anyone who meets your gaze.

And plenty of people are looking. You’re wearing a skin-tight dress with thin straps, sheer and covered in Swarovski crystals, the only thing underneath it being your tiny black thong, leaving your tits on full display. The chunky, platform heels on your feet made your legs look extra long and toned. You look hot and you know it. It's exactly the type of outfit you wore when you wanted to cause trouble.

As much as you loved teasing people, letting them drink in the image of your body and ache for more, it never took long for you to get bored.

With a dull sigh, you turn around, leaning back against the railing of the balcony and shifting your attention to the men in the room. Steve sits languidly on the velvet sofa, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of whiskey held loosely in his hand. His expression mirrors your boredom. The man sitting opposite him doesn't seem to care as he drones on and on, stroking his own ego as he talks himself up.

You already knew why Steve wanted to meet with him. A low-ranking dealer who's become a little too self important, thinks he's hot shit and that he runs more than he's been given. Steve hates when his generosity is taken advantage of.

You slowly make your way over to the two men, stopping next to Steve and taking the whiskey from his hand, downing it one go.

The man stops speaking abruptly, cutting off his gloating about getting a personal meeting with the boss. You nearly laugh. It's hilarious that these guys never stop to think how it could be a bad thing to be called in to speak with Steve.

“Goddamn,” the man whose name you didn't bother learning mutters, eyeing your body hungrily. “A woman like you who can handle her alcohol? That's sexy.”

If it wasn't for the music coming from the speakers, the room would be far too quiet in the moment that follows. You turn sharp eyes on the man, who merely smirks.

Hm… This will be fun.

“Yeah? You think I'm sexy?” Your voice is a purr. You step into his space and bury your fingers through his hair, light and unassuming, until you fist the strands harshly and yank his head back. His gasp is thrilling. “You wanna fuck me?”

His eyes are wide, shocked, and he must see the way your own eyes are blazing, because the taunting leer has fallen off his stupid face.

“C’mon, I’m just kidding,” he tries, swallowing roughly as his gaze flits from you to Steve.

You pout. “So you don't think I’m sexy? You’re sending me mixed signals here, baby. Do you want me or not?”

He looks at Steve, apprehension making his shoulders hunch. Steve stares back, face unreadable, which seems to only add to his discomfort.

“Stevie,” you begin, plopping down in the man’s lap, biting back a manic grin at the way he freezes beneath you, hands hovering as far away from your body as possible. “He's hurting my feelings.”

“No, hey, wait—”

“Answer her question.”

The deep, commanding tone of Steve’s voice makes you press your thighs together, eyelids becoming heavier with desire. You adore the way Steve is looking at you right now, at the man whose lap you're perched on. Like he'd rip him to shreds in a blink and fuck you next to his desecrated remains. It's delicious.

“Look, it was just a joke—” the man tries again, but it's nowhere near the right thing to say.

“Ah, so she's a joke to you, then?” Steve wonders, tilting his head.

The man sputters. “N-No! Of course not, I just—” He stops, choosing his words carefully, though he's pretty much dug his grave already. “You're very attractive. The boss is a lucky man.”

Your lips pull up into a grin, tracing the shell of his ear with your thumb. “Do you wanna be a lucky man?”

Sensing he's headed for shark infested waters, the man backtracks. “I think it's time for me to go, actually.”

“Mm, no, that's not happening,” you say with a sickly sweet smile. You boop his nose. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Steve rises from the sofa, tall and imposing. You bite your lip in anticipation.

“Why don't you and your friend come sit here, sweetheart?” Steve suggests, nodding to the sofa behind him.

“Really, sir, I—”

“Don't make me repeat myself.”

The man glances warily at you and Steve. You stand, tugging him to follow and shoving him to sit in Steve’s vacated spot, returning to his lap. He keeps his hands to himself still, but you know that's gonna change soon.

Steve leans over, capturing your lips in a slow kiss, licking into your mouth as he cups your jaw. He pulls away and drops to his knees. You shift impatiently on the man’s lap, seeing his hands clench into fists on the cushion out of your peripheral. Steve nudges you back, making you rest your weight along the man’s torso.

“Open up for me, darlin’,” he instructs.

You spread your legs, draping them on either side of the man’s knees.

“Wait, what are you doing?” his strained voice asks.

“Shut up,” Steve replies.

The man’s mouth shuts with an audible click.

Steve pulls your thong to the side and runs the fingers of his free hand along your slick center. You moan softly. He leans in, putting his mouth on your pussy and sinking two fingers inside you.

“Fuck, Stevie, that's good,” you breathe, reaching up to release your tits from the top of your dress so you can pinch your nipples.

Steve continues to fingerfuck you and suck on your clit, bringing you close to your peak within minutes, knowing your body like it's his own. You usually like to cum multiple times, but you're not sure how long he’ll last before he’ll want to take care of the man under you.

He pulls his fingers out, spitting on your cunt before sliding three fingers back inside you, curling them expertly as your whines get louder and louder. Your hips roll, chasing your high. The movement makes the man grow hard beneath you and you laugh. Steve’s noticed, too, of course, and he doubles his efforts, eyes locked on yours as the heat coiling in your belly finally snaps. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you and Steve drags it out until you're twitching. He rises to his full height, sucking his fingers clean as you come down from your high.

“Keep her legs open,” Steve orders as he unbuttons his slacks, lowering the zipper and pulling out his hard cock.

Shakily, and without having to be told a second time, the man cradles your spread thighs. His grip is loose, though, and Steve sneers.

“You wanted to fuck her but that's how you're gonna touch her? That's fucking insulting. Do it right.” The man’s hold tightens and Steve grins, voice low and condescending as he says, “There you go. Now lie back.”

“W-What?” he stutters.

“You heard me. On your back, now.”

The man adjusts your positions, shifting until he can lie sideways on the sofa. Steve’s stare is getting wilder and wilder by the second. He joins the two of you, and knowing what's coming, you wiggle excitedly.

When he finally slides into your dripping cunt, it's with you lying on top of the man while he still holds your legs spread open. Only, now Steve has the man’s legs spread as well, fitting himself between them so that when he fucks into you the man below you feels it too. Steve’s thrusts jostle both your bodies, and giddy giggles bubble out of you mixed with pleasured cries of Steve’s name.

You turn your head, moaning and whining directly into the man’s ear, wanton and needy. You can see the way his face burns in shame and it only adds to the desire building in your core.

“Aren’t you fucking lucky?” you gasp as your pussy welcomes the stretch of Steve’s cock. “You get to witness how good Stevie fucks me.”

He remains silent, his fingers digging into your flesh hard enough that you wonder if they'll leave marks. For his sake, you hope not. He's not coming out of tonight unscathed as it is. You'd hate for him to make it worse.

Oh, who are you kidding? You’ll probably watch Steve and his goons teach him a lesson later and it'll be another highlight of your night, second only to this current moment.

“You know, I should chop your fucking hands off at the wrists for touching my girl,” Steve muses, grunting as you clench around him.

“You–You told me to!” the man replies, panicked.

Steve laughs meanly and the sound goes straight to your cunt. “If I told you to walk into oncoming traffic, would you do that, too?” His thrusts get harder, sharper, making you mewl, your hands reaching to pluck at your nipples again. “Little bitches like you never learn,” Steve hisses. “You think you're some big hotshot, just because I give you a job to do. It's fucking pathetic.” He leans down, bracing himself with his hands on either side of the bodies under him as he picks up the pace. “And then when I bring my girl around you stupid pricks, you forget your manners and disrespect her, without fail. You think you can fuck her better than I can? Huh? Answer me!”

“No, sir!”

You're mindless now, mouthing wetly at Steve’s neck, biting and sucking kisses into the skin there, just wanting to feel whatever you can of him. You writhe, whining, begging for more, for release, for everything.

“Who's fucking you so good, sweetheart? Who's wrecking your pretty pussy?” Steve prods.

“Stevie is,” you whimper. “Please, Stevie, make me cum, wanna cum, please.”

Steve lifts himself up, spitting on your clit, smirking at the way it makes you moan, then starts rubbing fast circles into the swollen flesh. You're loud enough now that you're sure the club goers downstairs can hear you. The thought fans the flames in your core.

All too soon, you feel your high cresting. You babble nonsense, hands never staying in one spot, tugging your own hair, your nipples, digging your nails into Steve’s back through his crisp, white button down shirt. When your orgasm hits, you grin like a mad woman.

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” you chant, laughing, moaning.

You clench around Steve’s cock, over and over, the pleasure never ending. Steve groans above you, fucking into you roughly as he chases his own high.

“In me, Stevie, please, cum in me,” you beg, “mark me from the inside.”

“Fuck,” Steve gasps, thrusting one, two, three more times before stilling, moaning as he spills inside your cunt.

You hum, entirely pleased, pulling Steve down into a dirty kiss. It takes a few minutes for the rigid body beneath you to register in your cum-drunk brain. You pull away, grinning at Steve as he sits up, sliding out of you. He gathers the mixture of your slick and his cum, bringing it to your lips. With a coy look, you suck on his fingers, swallowing the taste of the two of you with a moan.

“Now,” Steve starts, putting his cock back in his slacks, “my girl’s gonna get up and fix her clothes, and then you and I are gonna head out back to have another chat.”

Resigned to his fate, the man simply nods.

Steve helps you stand and put your thong back in place, pressing kisses to the tops of your tits before you pull your dress back up. You can't resist kissing him one more time, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, loving the feel of his large hands on the small of your back. He smacks your ass and breaks the kiss.

“Can't I watch, Stevie?” you ask, jutting your bottom lip out.

“You might get your pretty dress dirty, darlin’.”

You pout. “Please?”

“Okay, okay, I suppose it's fair,” Steve sighs.

You clap your hands happily, giggling. You turn to the man sitting on the sofa who looks two seconds away from bursting into tears and send him a sunny smile.

“It's my turn to watch!”

Steve huffs a laugh, signaling to his men who've been lurking in the shadows to come collect the sorry piece of shit beside you. He doesn't put up too much of a fight, which is a little disappointing, but you're sure he’ll be begging for mercy soon enough.

[gumnut-logic]

Adventures in Bead Embroidery

From my website blog. Apparently it won't let me simply link it, so I'm copying it until I can growl at it enough to behave.

-o-o-o-

Over the last year I have been working across my interests in a way to build a collection of works that can be released as a whole.

The first collection is nearing completion , though I may have over bought materials because, well, glorious colours!

During this time I have created a series of bead embroidery pieces. the collection is in a particular colourway – pinks, purples and golds, that may or may not be reflecting Penelope from Thunderbirds’ addiction to the colour pink.

This may also be the reason why its informal name is the Penelope Collection. It’s correct name is Cherry Blossoms and Fuchsia, but honestly that may have been an after thought. Basically I needed a colourway and that was the first one to get me going.

There may be more colourways in the future based on Thunderbirds… possibly… maybe definitely.

Yes, I’m a hopeless fangirl.

But anyway, bead embroidery…

My first piece was ‘Her Little Squid’.

This may or may not have something to do with Penelope falling in love with a certain aquanaut in the relevant television series, but regardless we have a little pink squid. The design was based off a Southern Dumpling Squid, which, if you look it up, you will likely fall in love with immediately as they are seriously cute. Not pink, though, which is why this one is Penelope’s Little Squid

I was enjoying the marine theme so next played with a starfish design. This one is not based off any particular starfish, more a concept in general. I wanted to play with texture involving different sized and shaped beads. This one is a combination of Swarovski, Czech and Japanese beads – all of the highest quality as I don’t work with anything else.

The next piece was a focus on edging and shading. I wanted to create a shell brooch but didn’t have any particular pink shell in mind. I ended up searching for shells endemic to the Kermadec Islands, a fascinating volcanic arc north of New Zealand (for fannish reasons, but also because I might have accidentally fallen in love with the place regardless).

After poking around, I settled on a tiny little shell called Turbonilla sculptura found near Raoul Island. The colour is not true to species because I just did not have that data and besides, I wanted it to blend in with the rest of my little collection. Incidentally, Turbonilla species can be found in many places around the world and I’m pretty sure I’ve seen them here on Australian beaches – they are very tiny.

But whatever the inspiration point, here be my bead embroidered shell brooch.

So, there are my three Penelope brooches. I’m intending on creating more. Whether or not they will fall into the Penelope Collection or the next Collection which is the Lillies & Lotus Collection and involves Pinks, Greens and Golds with a dash of purple…well, we’ll see

Nutty

(off the edge, but learning to fly)

[gothic-daydreamer]

-Gifts-

Larissa Weems x Fem!Wife!Reader

*oneshot*

Summary: Your wife is irritated by an overly-affectionate friend.

Warnings: Jealousy, angst, dark Larissa if you squint.

_______________________________________

"Jenny- I can't possibly accept that!" Jenny giggled at my outburst from her place across from me on the sofa, waving a hand dismissively "oh please, I couldn't wear that. Doesn't suit me. You on the other hand, that would look a million dollars on you"

Jenny was always dressed to the nines, resplendent in silver and the finest clothes money could buy. I admired her for how well she held herself, anyone would mistake her for a rich woman when in fact she was just a secretary to some businessman. It was obvious that most of her pitiful salary went towards her appearance which, sadly, often left her without essentials. That was the main reason I didn't want to take such an extravagant gift from her, knowing it would leave her out of pocket.

"Jenny I can't. That must have cost a whole month's wages!" Jenny sniffed, a little smirk on her face "I like to spoil my friends, especially you. Anyway, I missed your birthday last week so I owed you one" she took a drag on the cigarette she held in her hand, pinching it between her fingers as it neared snuffing out. I tried my best not to show my distaste openly, the smoke smelled awful.

I didn't like cigarettes, ever since I was little I hated the smell. That was one of Jenny's features that I didn't like, it clung to her fancy clothes and her hugs enveloped me with the tobacco smell. I still wouldn't trade a friend like Jenny for the world.

"Jen, no" I gave her the hardest, sternest look I could whilst trying not to appear ungrateful. Jenny's smirk widened, holding the stare and raising an eyebrow at me "You can't win, sweet. Now move your hair so I can put this on for you" I glared, huffing defeatedly as I turned away and swept aside my hair to expose my neck.

Jenny's warm hands brushed my skin as she set the cool silver necklace and it's small, intricate pendant against my sternum as the chain sat around my neck. I heard the quiet click as she clipped it shut and pulled away her hands. Jenny let her fingers linger for a moment too long, and a slightly uncomfortable shiver ran through me. She was always physically affectionate to a somewhat extreme degree, Larissa wasn't very fond of it.

"there... Beautiful" Jenny smiled as I turned back to her, smoothing down the front of my shirt. I returned her smile and cleared my throat, trying to think of how to carry on the conversation. Thankfully Jenny spoke up, a dramatic gasp upon checking her Swarovski watch "oh dear, I've overbooked myself. Got to run" she gave an apologetic smile as she returned to look at the necklace "very nice. Pretty, even"

Without another word Jenny stubbed out her cigarette, slung her red blaser over her black Vivienne Westwood dress, and stood up with an elegance I envied. I stood up to walk her to the door, but we both stopped at the sound of heels in the hallway outside.

"is that Larissa?" Jenny sounded a little excited and seemed to glow when I nodded, I wasn't sure why. Larissa was always apathetic and cold towards Jenny, and in private she was borderline hateful. Jenny looked at her watch again, and frowned "ugh, I really have to go"

I was pulled into a hug and instantly overwhelmed by the smell of smoke and traces of an expensive perfume, it took a moment to relax into her touch as she rubbed her hands across my back affectionately. I heard the hinges squeak as the door opened, and Larissa's heels stopped in the doorway. I could imagine her scowl, her scrunched up nose at the smell of tobacco.

Jenny pulled away, not sparing Larissa a single glance. I saw her sweet smile as she leaned in to kiss my cheek, I did the same to her as quickly as I could so that I could turn to Larissa. The Headmistress had a smiling expression, but her eyes didn't have their regular shine "Jennifer, how nice to see you again" she tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace.

Jenny grinned at the taller woman, her arm around my waist still from our hug. Larissa's gaze lingered on it for a moment, and her eyes hardened a little, but she quickly regained her composure and put a fake smile on once again "have I missed much, darling?" Larissa looked at me, her hands clasped in front of her. I couldn't help but notice the tired lines under her eyes, the stiffness in her shoulders. Poor Larissa had clearly overworked herself again.

Thankful for the chance to free myself from the awkward hold Jenny had on me, I tried to make it look casual as I practically raced across to Larissa. I relaxed into her side instantly, breathing in the relaxing scent of lavender and freshly pressed paper that always surrounded her.

"not much, but look at the necklace Jenny gave me!" Larissa took the pendant between her fingers, raising it a little to see in more detail. Her frown was less concentrated and more of irritation, and when she met my eyes I saw a flash of a scowl cross her face. When I pulled away from a direct hug, Larissa kept a hand on my shoulder and steered me to her side "lovely"

Her lips were pursed, Larissa obviously didn't find the gift 'lovely'. Her hand gripped my shoulder a little tighter "That was most kind of you, Jennifer" Larissa's imposing stature loomed over Jennifer, making the statement sound more threatening than her tone originally did. She didn't scare me, but god Larissa could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

Jenny cleared her throat, awkwardly "I suppose I'd best get going" she muttered, smoothing down the front of her dress. She lifted her handbag, settling it on her forearm. Larissa gave her a polite smile, more sincere than the others.

"a shame I couldn't have spent more time with you, Jennifer. You seem like a lovely girl" the way she says girl makes Jenny visibly irritated, as if Larissa is cementing her place as her superior. Jenny gives a tight smile and nod to Larissa, who I noticed looked a little smug. Jenny didn't meet my eyes when she mumbled her goodbye.

Jenny shut the door after herself, leaving me with my eyes to the carpeted floor beneath us. I took note of Larissa's black 3 inch block heels, elevating her to an even greater height. Cool cream gloves came into my eyeline as Larissa tilted my head up, she looked down at me with loosely veiled satisfaction.

"don't look so timid, little love" her thumb stroked over my lips, and Larissa smirked a little as my breath hitched. Through her gaze she saw doe eyes. A perfect, innocent angel looking up at her as if she was a god. Larissa had never felt so appreciated, so adored as when she was with me. It was refreshing for someone to, finally, see the beauty Larissa often missed in herself. That was her justification for how she spoiled me, she wanted to give back the adoration.

I couldn't look away from her, blushing fiercely as Larissa assessed my face for thoughts. She looked to my right cheek and her lips pursed in annoyance "you have some of Jennifer's lipstick on your cheek" Larissa nearly spat her name, a quiet fire behind her eyes. I raised a hand to touch my cheek, but Larissa took my wrist in a gentle hold "let me"

With a liquid flourish Larissa hastily took her handkerchief from her blaser pocket, it was flower-pattern embroidered specially for her with L.W in the bottom corner of the fabric. It was soft on my face as Larissa wiped the beige pink traces of lipstick from my cheek, so gently it reminded me of my grandmother's tender hand. I looked up to her eyes, but she was focussed on removing the stain from my skin.

With a satisfied smile, Larissa pulled her soft handkerchief away from my face. I smiled like a giddy schoolgirl, I felt almost like one of her students. I wondered how many of them must admire her like this and felt the green monster of jealousy simmer beneath the surface, but it was quickly quelled when Larissa set a lingering kiss upon my cheek. The same one she had just cleared.

She waited a second, maybe two before pulling away and a self-satisfied smirk filled her red lips. I knew she was intentionally replacing Jenny's lipstick mark with her own. Larissa leaned down a little, and I found myself standing closer to her to hear her whispered words "you suit red better, doll"

With that she walked off, leaving the room through the same door Jenny had left through a few minutes earlier. A little swagger to her step, a sauntering sway to her hips. She was proud of herself for leaving me a blushing mess in her wake.

...

It was a few days later after Jenny's visit and I was in the library of Nevermore, my workplace. In that moment I was seated behind my desk with my assistant Silvie, a springing 20 year old who had freshly joined the staff, dealing with students looking for specific books. She was a sweet, young girl. Between the two of us, I like to think we do a good job of maintaining the functionality of this book-mansion.

I clicked on an email from Miss Thornhill, requesting fresh 'botanicum' work-books for her senior students. As always, the email ended with a little smiley face. I laughed at that, Marilyn was such a sweetheart.

There were no fresh emails, so I scrolled down a little to check for any missed requests from other staff members. A notification dinged at the top of my screen, and my stomach fluttered when I saw 'Mrs Weems' as the messenger.

I flew to click on it, it was short but still I was delighted.

To: Cecile Weems

From: Larissa Weems

I want you to wear it when I see you tonight x

I felt my eyebrows furrowed and my lips downturn in confusion, what the hell did she mean? I was answered by Silvie calling over from the reception desk "Cecile! There's a delivery for you!"

I stood up from my desk, feeling the ache in my thighs from sitting so long. I made my way over to the desk and waved Silvie off to deal with the growing queue of students. On the desk in front of me was a large, beautiful bouquet of Gardenias and Anemones. My favourite flowers. Tied with a bow to the surface of the square vase was a nearly flat rectangular box, which rattled a little as I untied the silk bow.

I took a moment to read the label.

Swarovski

I vaguely remembered mentioning that Swarovski was my favourite Jeweler in an idle conversation Larissa and I had years ago. I didn't think she was listening, since she was busy typing away at her computer, but turns out she was. My heart melted.

Sliding the lid from the box, I gasped. A beautiful choker necklace with rectangular cut crystals sat upon a white velvet pillow, i ran a finger across the surface of the silver and nearly shivered at the cold. It was gorgeous.

I saw a label printed on the inside of the box, which made my eyes widen.

£900

I nearly jumped away from the box with the shock I got. I was going to kill that bloody woman for spending so much.

A few stares were being sent my way, so I quickly calmed myself down. I took a deep breath and leaned against the desk, rubbing my temples in irritation. Larissa was going to get the silent treatment for sure... Right after thank you sex.

Silvie was beside me now, baring me an awkward smile "uh... A note came with it, sorry I didn't see it earlier" I nodded reassuringly, taking the little note card from her outstretched hand.

"no worries, Silvie. This was an... Unexpected delivery" we shared an awkward laugh before Silvie wandered off to help Bianca Barclay with something, likely aquatic plants for Miss Thornhill's class. I sighed, looking around at the students. I was glad they were taking such interest in their studies.

With that thought I turned back to the note in my hand, it was short and sweet. I smiled, Larissa was such a romantic.

My darling,

I hope you liked my gift, sweetheart. Who knows? Maybe you'll get another tonight...

Larissa hadn't signed the note. Well, not traditionally. Someone had kissed the bottom of the note, someone with bright red lipstick that left a mark, just like the one I'd let sit on my cheek as a proud display of Larissa Weems' love for me.

God, i thought as my face flustered red, I love my wife.

[teacasket]

champagne problems

genre: angst  au: non-idol au, rich kid au warnings: alcohol word count: 0.3k  pairing: gn!reader x bang chan song: champagne problems by taylor swift n/a: same universe as this is me trying

You have seen hearts break in front of your eyes before, but this time you feel nothing. Even when Chan glances up at you with confusion, betrayal, and grief, you hollowly stare back. The words “will you marry me” hang heavily in the air for another second before gravity pulls them plummeting to the ground. “I can’t,” was your answer. No further explanation, just a thick silence wrapped with finality. 

You mumble a half-hearted apology and leave him alone on the balcony. As you head for the doors leading inside, the midnight air nips at the nape of your neck like a mother cat trying to carry her troublesome kitten to its rightful place. Marrying Chan would be the right choice. Sweet, golden Chan with a good, stable future and the eternal patience of an old painting hanging over a fireplace. He loves you, and you love him, but how could you marry him?

Clustered on the other side of the door is his family, their ears awaiting the announcement of an engagement. His sister holds a bottle of vintage champagne, and his father a selection of glasses. Distant relatives and family friends mill at the edges and whisper amongst themselves. However, as you enter with a grim face and no heirloom ring on your finger, the bubbling excitement slowly fizzles out. No hearts break, but some do crack in sympathy for Chan. As you walk through the crowd, they part for you like a sea of gold and cream, like it would be shameful for them to stand near you now without the shield of Chan’s love. 

You don’t belong in his world. Years ago, in the beginning years of university, you might have, but you’re a chipped Swarovski crystal to his family of diamonds. One day, he will find his match, and one day, you will remember this night like a fairy tale. 

You stand on the steps, breathing in the ice and staring at the advertisement on the side of a parked cab. Four coins sit heavily in your purse, reminding you of the long journey you have committed to, but you wonder how much whiskey you’ll be able to buy with them.

[mostly-mundane-atla]

This might be a ridiculous question. But I was thinking about high fashion and the Met Gala. And I was wondering… if you were to put together a Met Gala type of outfit with Inupiaq styles what would it look like? (I’m sure that the Met Gala had had some problematic past, I’m just trying to evoke the vibe of the outfits… I feel like I’m messing up this question… Zendaya’s Cinderella dress lit up when her “fairy god designer” pointed a wand at it and that got me curious.)

Oh, you have opened a pandora's box of a fantasy i've had for years and years.

So the main piece of the ensemble would be a drop waist gown in the style of a kuspuk. I can't decide on a a color, but it would be silk, perhaps with metalic woven or embroidered detailing to indicate a stripe and/or floral pattern which were the tradional go-to. The sleeves would be sheer but in a matching color to display braclets that mimic the look of forearm tattoos underneath. A trim of multiple layers of black lace dotted with white swarovski crystals would be applied where you would see fur from the parka poking out, such as at the hem, the sleeve cuffs, and along the hood (which may or may not be entirely decorative and function more as a small cape-like element).

There would also be mukluk style boots made of velvet woven to look like sealskin, or even just authentic sealskin mukluks (regalia is formal wear!). Hair would be in an elaborate braided style shaped low at the back of the head with an ivory doll worked in near the shoulder to allude to the image of a baby poking its head out of mama's hood. Also decorating the hair would be a take on the traditional beaded headbands made with pearls and gems or semiprecious stones in colors that complement the gown, making the whole look pop.

One final accessory would be red gloves. Any photos i'd deliberately pose for would have an approximation of the red handprint over the mouth symbolizing solidarity with Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls. If people want to fawn over pretty regalia as haute couture, they don't get to bitch and moan about us asking them to care about our stolen sisters.

I doubt it would be on theme but every other white guy celebrity wears a boring black suit regardless of theme so....

[styleofdiamandis]

PHOTOSHOOT: INSTYLE MAGAZINE

Back in 2010, Marina graced the pages of InStyle Magazine. The editorial, which showcased some of the best Fall/Winter 2010 collections, was lensed by Christophe Rihet.

Styling by Amanda Bellan and Frankie Read, hair by Paul Percival, makeup by Cassie Jones and nails by Julie Luong.

We're starting off strong with Marina dressed in a Dior chunky ivory wool knit cardigan with baby-blue silk ribbons and white fur trimming (£1,650.00) which she teamed up with Dolce & Gabbana burgundy velvet wrap bustier dress with draping and jewel brooches (£1,300.00).

Her jewelry here includes a Topshop metal chain necklace with a Pebble London 22ct gold, blue aventurine and silk necklace (£240.00 - similar pictured).

On her hands, she wore a Dorothy Perkins black leather ring (£12,50) and a Sarah Ho London 18ct gold, quartz and tsavorite ring (£2,150.00).

Look n. 2 displays Marina wearing her favorite designer, Vivienne Westwood! She chose one of the final numbers from the Gold Label's F/W10 runway - a lilac silk taffeta dress with exploding black organza skirt.

As in accessories, she wore two studded leather cuffs by Felder Felder (£200.00 each), a feather and 18ct gold headdress by English jewellers Wright & Teague...

...which she then swapped for a Sonia Rykiel beige ostrich feather pom-pom headband (£350.00).

One element I've noticed about this shoot: there's just never enough when it comes to jewelry! Layering chunky necklaces is such an early 2010s thing and this shoot definitely showed how to do it back then.

Marina combined a Djurdja Watson black jet necklace with Swarovski crystals (£476.00) with a Topshop metal multi-strand watch necklace in silver (£50.00)

M further accessorized her look with a Chanel metal open-work, enamel, resin and gripoix cuff (£1,724.00)...

...and Pebble London mother-of-pearl oval bezel ring (£165.00 - similar pictured) and gold-plated & pink aventurine ring (£145.00).

The HOT Steampunk-inspired metallic gold and black patent leather sandals (£635.00) are signed by Rupert Sanderson.

For the third look of this editorial, the singer wore a white tulle dress with fraying and ruffles from Chanel's collection, which was inspired by Winter wonderland.

Marina's jewelry here included a Tom Binns Design Punk Chic metal necklace (£895.00), a Djurdja Watson gold-plated silver and brass necklace with Swarovski crystals (£389.00), and a Hoss Intropia silk and crystal cuff (£79.50).

Next, she accentuated the waist of her dress by rocking a Hollywood Trading Company studded black leather belt (£205.00).

The look was completed with these black eel skin peep-toe platform pumps (£585.00) from Rupert Sanderson.

Here, Marina wore the Lolita bodysuit (£439.00) from Bebaroque's "Matador" collection with embroidery inspired by Spanish traditional matador costumes and historical embroidery.

She layered a L'Agence cotton skirt (£170.00) with a Topshop tulle and diamanté maxi skirt (£70.00).

Her jewelry starts off with this beautiful Chanel Pre-Fall 2010 "Paris-Shanghai" collection gold metal, enamel and silk tassel necklace (£2,285.00).

She also wore Tom Binns Design crystal earrings (£120.00), the Felder Felder studded leather cuffs (£200.00 each), Pebble London gold-plated, onyx and coral ring (£165.00) and Sarah Ho London 18ct white-gold, topaz and diamond ring (£4,760.00).

Lastly, her black leather biker boots (£160.00) are Hudson London.

For the penultimate look, Marina sports this intricate folded black lambskin leather sleeveless coat (£2,795.00) by John Rocha!

Last but definitely not least, Marina poses in this Emilio Pucci Fall/Winter 2010 mustard-yellow ostrich feather jacket (£4,865.00), which I promise, would go missing if it was near me.

[stardust-swan]

Yesterday was nice, with a few bumps. More of the gifts from my Amazon Holiday Registry came in, including the Fitbit and Swarovski Ornament! The Swarovski Ornament got here in one piece, so perhaps next year I will spend some Gift Card Funds on the ballerina ornament.

In the afternoon, I went to town. I bought some buns, a bag of rose shaped and flavoured treats, and cheesecake flavoured mini kitkats from Asia Market. Then I bought my mother her presents. Then I bought myself some small presents from the k-pop store (a BP Pink Venom photobook and some Twice enamel pins).

Afterwards, I took a break and sat down to a gingerbread and cream latte with a volume of the Sailor Moon manga for an hour. There were two other girls at tables near mine also reading. One (who was nicely dressed might I add, in a black dress embroidered with gold stars, thick black tights, and loafers, with long blonde hair) was reading The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. She had just started it. Perhaps it was a gift? Or maybe she just bought it to read at the café.

I didn't catch what the other girl was reading. The cover was pretty, reminded me a little of biographies I have about Tudor Queens. It wasn't one of those though.

My gingerbread and cream latte wasn't as good as it was the first time I had it (which was maybe two weeks ago? Before I went to the NCT Dream movie with Raquelle). It was busy though, so I suppose the barista must have been run off his feet. I did enjoy my break from walking around town and carrying a full handbag though. And I finished the first volume of Sailor Moon!

I bought wrapping paper (wasn't much left) and then trawled around several stores trying to find Christmas cards for my parents. I finally bought the cards. It wasn't without stress though; a man got caught shoplifting jellies and then was a little aggressive when confronted by the cashier. He kept talking about how him being accused of shoplifting was discrimination, despite having absolutely no traits that would get anyone discriminated against. He was white, from our country, not visibly gay or GNC, not elderly. I don't know what happened to him; I had to queue up around the store and by the time it was time for me to pay, he was gone.

Then I went and bought more snacks for Christmas, and came home with a full shopping bag.

After that I got the bus home. I almost sat on a seat that had a bag with vomit (at least I think it was vomit) next to it, but a man warned me against sitting there. I asked what was in the bag, but he just said I didn't want to know.

I came home at almost eight, and I'd left around half one. What I described above may not sound like enough to warrant spending all that time out, but I visited many different stores where I ended up not buying anything, and didn't include them.

There was a little rainbow in the sky when I was just leaving my house in the afternoon.

There were a lot of stalls in town, and the usual Christmas decorations were up, but somehow it didn't feel as festive as usual. Maybe it's because I was tired by the time it was dark enough for the lights to be turned on.

Regardless, I'm glad I finished the last of the Christmas shopping. Now I can focus on wrapping gifts, prepping food to be cooked tomorrow, writing the Christmas cards for my family, enjoying some of the new bath products I have, and reading.

[saintsir4n]

4. Fire walk with z

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(@gossipgirl tweeted) 

GOOD morning, followers. Gossip Girl here. Or should I say "still here"? You thought I was a person, but I never said I was. I'm a revolution. And today's act of rebellion? We know it isn't nice to reveal a lady's age, but secret sources tell us Zoya Lott is 15 today. Happy birthday, Z! May you deserve whatever you get. In New York, there are only two ways to celebrate a birthday. You either go big, or you don't exist. But not to fear. Something tells us this Z-day will live in infamy. Because if it doesn't, then y'all ain't doing it right. Suit up, sweeties, and let's see who'll be the last manqué standing.

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"Did you tell Gossip Girl that today's my birthday?

"No," Winnie stifled a laugh at the anger on Zoya's face. She didn't expect to see a line of food trucks outside of school until she saw Obie trying to Woo the birthday girl but quickly backtracked due to her request. "But happy birthday."

Zoya reeled back when a gift bag was held out to her, "What is it?"

"A bomb," Winnie watched her tentatively take the bag but did not dare to look inside. "It's a present Zoya, be grateful, I could throw it to the poor and let them scavenge. It's up to you."

Zoya gasped, "Seriously?!"

"It's a simple gift not like I'd pay for a trip to the Bahamas."

"I'm surprised you don't own the island." Winnie doesn't respond much to Zoya's shock, "You own the —" "

"No, my family doesn't own that tourist capital. Anyone could visit," The heiress grimaced at the thought.

"And that's why you hate it I'm guessing."

"Good to know you're learning. And no my family doesn't own the Bahamas. Islands near it obviously." Winnie paused, "Accept the gift."

"Fine." Zoya gave in, and plucked out of the bag, "Thank you."

She gulped immediately when she saw the Swarovski brand, looking up to see Winnie film her reaction which made her sigh just before she opened the box to see an amethyst-encrusted tennis bracelet.

And a few more carats coated around the side.

"I can't accept this," Zoya stammered, glancing around, luckily many students were far too engorged with the food trucks than what was happening to this.

"You can."

Zoya briefly nodded, forcing a smile then gestured for the older teen to end her live stream to which she did, satisfied with the content she had.

"Fine, you have to help me," Zoya insisted.

Winnie scoffed, "I don't have to do a damn thing, but I'm curious what the tween activist wants from me. Resume."

"You know Julian is throwing a party. She says she's going to have some celebrity appearances."

"I don't care for her life so why would I start now?" Winnie's eyes sparkled with mirth once she realized where this was going, "You want to throw a birthday party don't you?"

Winnie began to laugh, and whether it was a genuine one Zoya didn't know but the sound made her want to hide.

"So?" Zoya said pleadingly.

"I'll help...by directing you to someone else."

Zoya's jaw dropped, "But you said –"

"--I'm currently busy, but trust me on this my tween mentee – "

"I'm 15."

"Whom I'm calling to help you will be a huge help," and I will no longer be in debt to the little gerbil.

Zoya decided to trust her, against her better judgment.

Winnie glanced to the side, finally taking the trail of food trucks.

Zoya followed her gaze, sighing when she said, "Feel free to try any of them, Obie attempted to celebrate my birthday."

"Oh please I don't buy Street meat."

Zoya made a face, "It's crepes."

"Same thing."

"Right," Zoya mumbled, eyes darting between the gift and where her sister and friends once stood by the steps.

She knew how bad things were going to get with her sister, but it was her turn to make the first move, because she quickly realised how turning the other cheek in the world she was pulled into was fruitless.

"First look at the birthday girl, I never forgot my 12th and neither should you Zoya," she looked up when Ginny sauntered over, phone in hand and beaming smile on show, "Smiles all around." Ginny teased the frowning birthday girl,  "Now remember girls..."

Winnie started, "Black and white makes a swirl, but —"

"— Our union makes bigots hurl."

They did their signature smile ignoring the eye roll from Zoya and snickered to themselves.

"You two are encouraging eliminating racism one video at a time," Zoya drawled.

"And don't we know it?" Ginny restored, then gagged at the aroma in the air, "Do I smell street meat?"

__

After starting her tennis practice Winnie put aside the battle at play, Zoya was seething about her sister and the fact Julian and her team had hired Princess Nokia for the event. Monet of course, had been trying to contact her but she wasn't interested, she wanted her to suffer a little more for the comment that was made.

Instead, Winnie started hitting the shit out of every tennis ball flying her way.

She had to stay focused but it was hard, her mom came down hard on her before the Van Der Bilt luncheon. Margaux told her she needed to focus more on her grades, and the business and perhaps do some management courses.

Do not embarrass us! Her mother's voice echoed through her mind. During the luncheon she played the perfect daughter, avoiding questions about her personal life and only talking about high school, her future and whether college was on the cards, which they all knew it had to be.

Her father on the other hand was busy chatting to various politicians, it would've sparked her curiosity if she wasn't at the receiving end of her mother's pinches and reprimanding.

"Again?" the ball boy drew her from her thoughts.

Winnie's opposition didn't mind and nodded as did she.

They both quickly took a break, going off to the respective sides, to drink and dry their faces.

Winnie squinted her eyes when she saw her father walk into the court and over to the seats. His bodyguard stood next to Caesar.

Luc simply said nothing and just watched, waiting for the next match.

Winnie swallowed the unexpected nerves creeping up her throat and nodded at her opposition. They both returned to their positions, the heiress caught the ball the ball boy sent and contemplated a few things.

Why was her father here? Sure she asked for him to come, but he actually did. Was he supporting her or intimidating her? Luc Dubois was a man of very few words when it came to his daughter and only ever exploded when she did something ruinous. So why did he listen when she asked for him to be there when her mother never gave the sport the time of day? Maybe it was because of her hair that matted after every practice, but oh well nothing was ever good enough for Margaux Dubois.

Her father was here and why did she feel oddly happy?

An emotion she wasn't entirely familiar with.

So instead of focusing on that, she tossed the ball in the air and whacked it over the net so fiercely it skidded past the centre court before her opponent could attempt to hit back.

"15-Love," the ball boy announced.

And for the first time that week Luc Dubois smiled.

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(@gossipgirl tweeted)

Spotted: Daddy Dubois showing up for his daughter. Isn't that a surprise? Is he inspiring hope in the heiress? happiness? Glee? Doubt it, the only thing that obtains those emotions from Winnie D are money and mocking poverty. Oops! Did I say something true, pardon me, I'll follow up with a lie, something profound or maybe something kind, too late because I'm not here for that, and neither are you. Stay tuned followers, because I have a feeling more family secrets are gonna come out to play.

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"Gin!" Winnie strutted into the Wellington penthouse, screaming the house down for her friend to emerge, since they were late for Zoya's birthday bash.

Sure they were always fashionably late to any and everything but the most recent gossip girl post ensured more drama than anything, drama that Winnie would heighten by a certain video she apprehended from Milo.

"I'm coming!" Ginny stumbled out of her room, wearing a blue strappy dress and matching stilettos.

Her hair was curled not primped, contrasting Winnie's which was straight... obviously.

"Hurry!" Winnie motioned to the elevator, before taking in her friend's outfit. "Hot," she complimented, to which the blonde beamed,  "Are your parents here?"

The Dubois heiress looked around, surprised not to hear shouting booming off the tall walls of the penthouse.

"Nope, it's the bi-weekly trip abroad," Ginny shrugged, pretending to be unfazed but Winnie could see through it.

"Avoiding you?" Winnie guessed, "Same with Margaux," she hadn't spoken to her mother since they returned to the luncheon and as much as she loved the peace it was only a matter of time before it was ripped away.

"Fuck 'em, let's go. Purple looks amazing on you," Ginny eye's raked over the long-sleeved Dolce dress.

"I know right," Winnie then held up her phone, "Now pose."

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(@gossipgirl tweeted)

Hey followers. We all know there's no such thing as a civil war. Spies tell us a certain someone has drawn her own Mason-Dixon line, with herself on one side and her sister on the other. But everyone knows a divide isn't enough. You have to conquer as well. And there's a cannon pointed in only one direction. What's in it? You'll find out when you hear the sirens. Take cover, my pretties. The glitzkrieg is coming!

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After posing for the paparazzi with Ginny and promoting their brand, the friends separated, off to cause more problems for the already doomed party.

Winnie grinned when she saw the games that Zoya was playing and how riled up Obie was getting.

"Of course you're involved," he muttered when she strolled through the venue, the strobe lights hitting every inch of it.

Winnie feigned innocence, "With what?"

"This plan. Changing Zoya," Obie stressed, not sparing a glance at his offended girlfriend.

"You stay in our circle long enough you'll change on your own, isn't that right Zoya?" Winnie remarked, but her grin widened at the bracelet lighting up the birthday girl's wrist. "glad to see you're wearing my bracelet."

Zoya peeked down at her bracelet and meekly looked up at Obie.

Obie stared between them, before scoffing and walking off.

"Is he unaware that he's dating a freshman with a developing mind?" Winnie questioned, noting the inner turmoil encircling the younger teen.

Zoya's face scrunched up, "Why are you here?"

"You invited me."

"I didn't. I asked you to help. You did partially."

"Well, I'm here, since that warrents an invitation. Don't be ungrateful. Your sister is watching us," Winnie locked eyes with Julian who was angrily stuffing her face.

Monet and Luna stood on either side of her, silently stewing, the former was more annoyed than frustrated, especially when the Dubois heiress didn't look her way.

"Obie doesn't want me to fight back. He wants me to just sit back and take it. How can I? That's not me."

"Then don't let him put out your spark little Z." Winnie advised, adding fuel to the already growing fire,  "Just remember, Julian won't back down and she sure as hell won't play fair."

Zoya stormed off, just as Julian did away from her friends when she realized that the treats she was eating were laced with an alcosynth.

Winnie could smell Milo Sparks all over these cheap tricks. Good, he's doing his job.

Some of the guests nodded at her in acknowledgement, a few asked for pictures, which she took before going on her way and her way was strutting over to tiers of food, that she knew not to touch.

Monet was nowhere to be found, which left Luna judging her when she came over.

"I didn't think you'd leave your lair for anything other than academics," Luna said, leaning against the counter.

"The new IT girl sent out an invite, so who am I to decline?"

"A bitch."

"And you're a cunt," Winnie countered.

"Same difference."

"Precisely," Winnie said with indifference. "Where's Castoway?"

Luna scoffed, folding her arms, "Want to ruin her brand even more?"

"Oh like you care, you're only clinging to her like flies to shit until something bigger comes along. I respect that, but let's not act like you care about her interests, just what interests you. I wouldn't mind you styling me Luna, you've got taste," Winnie couldn't help but check out the girl.

She was a bitch, not blind, but Luna wasn't her type.

Luna rolled her eyes despite feeling slightly flustered, "You're poaching at a birthday party?"

"It's networking and believe me, JC's ship will sink and you don't want to go down with it. Think about that while I powder my nose."

Luna was left to her thoughts pounding louder than the roaring songs.

In the bathroom, Winnie was hoping to escape the god-awful music that was being played. She preferred anything classical and only messed with some contemporary to appease her fans and that's all.

"You look good," she snapped head towards the snarky voice.

Monet was extremely tempted to stalk closer, but judging from the blank look on Winnie's face she kept her composure, before demanding anyone in the stalls to get out so they could talk.

"And you look stressed," Winnie retorted, hearing the door slam behind them.

She waited for Monet to respond because she sure as hell wasn't starting up this discussion.

"So we're not going to discuss what happened?" Monet impatiently tapped her foot.

Winnie shrugged, "Nothing happened."

"Oh really?"

"What do you want? If it's to demand that I change again then I might as well leave," Winnie rapidly blinked and just as she was about to turn around, Monet reached out and grabbed her hands.

It felt like it had been a lifetime since they touched, and Winnie liked the feeling in her  chest, despite wanting to let go.

"Wait. I have ammunition and I know you do too." Monet said softly.

Winnie nodded, "Go on."

"Max, you?"

"Zoya..." Monet's face lit up and squeezed Winnie's hand. "Calm down, you don't want your Botox to explode."

"Exchange deets and make-up?" Monet sheepishly suggested, cursing herself for sounding so soft.

She watched as Winnie deliberated, before gently dropping her hand.

"Exchange yes," The Dubois turned away from the disheartening look on Monet's face which was quickly covered up with disdain.

"You're still mad."

Obviously, "Yes."

"Fine, exchange but I'll be over later," Monet proclaimed.

Winnie dryly laughed, "And I'll make sure to set the dogs on you."

"Don't be a child, it doesn't suit you."

"But pettiness does. You find it hot, remember or is that another thing you want to change about me?" Winnie replied as she forwarded the link Milo sent her, just as Monet exchanged some information about Max.

What Winnie wanted was an apology, but she didn't get that.

"Do you want me to define this," Monet motioned between them, "this... whatever this is or are you against labels?"

"Oh please, I love labels, rich, poor, broke..." Winnie trailed off.

"Say that any louder and you'll get cancelled."

"They've tried before, and I'll give it to these broke bitches sitting behind their screens typing away critiquing me for my every whim. It's cute. But they should know one thing, I do it better, whilst they make the line at the local welfare office longer."

Monet smirked, watching her walk away and boy did she watch.

Winnie danced through the crowds of people letting herself momentarily relax, she wasn't drunk, no, she didn't drink, but she was certainly feeling the vibe. A few girls she recognised from school came over and danced alongside her. They were bland and uninteresting to look at but she was just having some fun.

But all of that came to a halt when someone bumped into her.

She plastered on a scowl and turned, "Oh It's you."

Aki Mendez.

"What do you want?" He asked, holding up a drink.

"From you? Why would I want anything from you."

"You targeted my girlfriend, that was some foul shit you pulled."

"Oh, the girlfriend who's stiffly grinding with that random over there?" She directed him to look towards Audrey who danced on a guy who didn't seem too comfortable. "Looks like a loving relationship. You must be really secure for someone who has as much fire as a burnt-out match."

"What's your problem with me, other than being friends with Julian?" Aki pressed, trying to block out the sight of his girlfriend messing with him.

Winnie snorted, "I haven't got a problem with you. I don't care for you. Our moms talk at TEDSummits and fathers interact whenever there's a scandal but you and I... there's nothing there."

Aki sighed, "I wouldn't want that."

"Don't lie, it'll provoke a heart attack. Au revoir Akeno." 

She was left to see Aki sped towards his girlfriend who immediately introduced him to the guy she was dancing on.

"Zero rhythm," She murmured.

Ginny came over and swung an arm over her shoulder, "Max isn't here. He hasn't been replying to my texts, sexts or calls. There's something wrong."

Winnie sent her a look, "We know what it is."

Ginny stiffly nodded, just as Julian headed out on the stage, gaining everyone's attention.

"Let me guess she's got the video?" The blonde chuckled.

"You know me so well."

Julian held the microphone up as she began speaking, "In honour of my... sis's 15th birthday, I wanted to talk a little bit about..." Julian said before saying, "The woman who really made all of this happen. Our mother..."

The crowd cheered, whilst Winnie struggled to stay awake.

"Past your bedtime?" Ginny quipped.

"Fuck you," Winnie elbowed her sides.

"Marion," Julian paused, "There's a lot Zoya and I never got to learn from her, but we know, from our dads and deep inside our hearts, that she was amazing. But... " she let out a chuckle, staring down at her sister. "Like every person, she had two sides to her. She was brave, brilliant, beautiful, but she wasn't always honest. She wasn't... always good. I mean, she left her own baby, me, to run off with another man. "

Winnie spotted Davis Calloway glancing away from where he stood before she recognized Zoya's dad, Christ, that man needs to comb out his hair.

Julian continued, "Now, that reckless, irresponsible, unreliable part of my mom, I didn't inherit, thankfully. But someone did. And now, thanks to this video, we all get to see just how much of my mom the supposedly upstanding, righteous Zoya really got."

Everyone turned to the projector, seeing the start of Zoya rip into a girl, insulting her to the point the girl's smirk morphed into a frown. It was brutal and it didn't stop until Zoya landed a slap, shocking the crowd.

Winnie and Ginny had to conceal their amusement with their phones, all while Zoya whimpered and shed a few tears.

But as the video went on, the crowd heard the taunts that were surrounding Zoya. mother killer! She killed her mother! Get here!

Julian immediately backtracked, staring at the screen in horror, "Stop the video!"

But it didn't stop.

"They can't even plan a coup right," Winnie tutted, "At least they could've stopped the video and made her look like the bully."

Ginny agreed, finding the whole plan to take down Zoya ridiculous.

Julian's squad wanted a villain but got a victim.

"Well done Julian," Ginny murmured, pulling out her phone to livestream.

The crowd stood in disgust and disappointment as they watched Julian panic to stop the video.

"Hey, everyone. I know that video was traumatic. You're probably wondering why I played it. I'm wondering that too. "

"Bully!" Ginny exclaimed, holding up her phone higher and some of the guests agreed.

Julian sighed, " I hadn't seen the whole thing, but... that's no excuse. I just thought that she was... I didn't know she was being bullied, but I guess when you're a bully yourself, you don't see that. Since I can't turn back the clock, the very least I can do is tell the truth. I'm a bully."

"Booo!" Winnie exclaimed, turning to Ginny's phone and shaking her head. "Tomato, Tomato, Tomato."

"And whether I do it to your face or through your phone without you realizing It's the same thing. I expect you to want what I have, but not be able to get it. So, if you try to, I'll do everything in my power to stop you. And because I have considerable power I can," Julian paused, scanning the crowd, attempting to hold back tears, "But never again. Take out your phones. Do it. Hit record."

Ginny would've held up her phone to the ceiling if she could, the comments she had filling her screen were all over the place.

"I am a bully. I bully my sister,"

Winnie dramatically gasped, forcibly widening her eyes to all of her and Ginny's shared followers, even mouthing I told you so!

"I bully my friends, my fans. And I'm never gonna do it again, so long as I live," Julian inhaled deeply, "You have this video. Dubsmash it, DeuxMoi it. Gossip Girl it, for all it's worth. Now... how about we put this pain behind us and bow down to the Princess? She's why you're all here," she spared a desperate yet loving glance to her sister who did her best to smile, "Z, I love you. This is what your birthday was supposed to be," she then faced the celebrity guest and motioned her to come out, "Nokia."

The Crowd cheered and applauded.

"How are you doing?" The rapper exclaimed after taking the microphone from Julian who left the stage. "Well this is a safe space and I don't care what's going on in your school," that earned more cheers "We're here to have fun."

The intro to her 'It's not my fault' track started playing and everyone began to dance and sing along.

Winnie kissed her teeth soon after Ginny ended her livestream, annoyed that Julian didn't suffer more repercussions.

"Wow, that was pathetic," The blonde huffed as they walked away from the stage. "All that work for being Zoya's mentor and she turns weak after a badly performed speech."

"Zoya could still cause havoc, she's just more unpredictable now. Besides we can play off Julian being a bully, fuck taking accountability," Winnie rolled her eyes, frustrated by the whole night, "She needs to crumble. Her sister is in the picture playing all buddy buddy so we have to either wait or create something worse."

"It'll fall into our lap soon. I had to do charity today so karma will repay us soon," Ginny looped arms with her friend.

"I don't doubt it. Now let's get outta here."

"You sure you want to, your little carpet muncher is over there," Ginny beamed when she felt Winnie stiffen.

The Dubois heiress groaned, "How did you know?"

"You've been less of a demon, though, still a vile bitch. Well up until last week. I'm guessing she's to blame. I can set my followers on her, cry a little you know how a nation is moved by white tears."

"Keep those eyes dry. It's nothing I can't handle," Winnie stated.

Ginny hummed, "I know."

Just as they were about to strut towards the door, they were blocked by a certain child.

Milo wore his smug smile as he stared up at Winnie.

"Are you happy my dear mentor?"

"Not your mentor though, I'm satisfied with your coup, regardless of how fleeting it was."

"My mom would be mad at me for taking on something this easy," Milo cursed himself.

Ginny eyed the child, wondering why he was still around since it was past his bedtime.

Winnie shrugged, "Cause havoc, Milo. Stay safe, I don't need your mom stalking me again."

"That wasn't my mom."

And with that Milo strolled away, leaving the two friends with a chilling thought.

"What the fuck?" Ginny breathed out.

Winnie squirmed in her stance, "Problem for a different day?"

"Yeah."

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(@gossipgirl tweeted )

All right followers, time to face the music. Looks like the war is finally over. But the thing about when wars end? Nobody is ever the same again. When the dust has settled and the smoke clears, only then can we finally face what we've done. No one returns from war unchanged. We come back, strangers. Not only to those around us but to ourselves. And slowly, little by little we either remember who we used to be or we allow ourselves to become someone new. Gossip girl: who will you be, now that this is over? I don't know about you, but since it wasn't the end of the world... I feel fine.

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a/n:

i love writing this book. i find it quite simple compared to my other ones. in this chapter you see more of winnie and luc's relationship, is it development or just how they've always been?

i think i've said this before, but honestly, winnie's closest relationship is with ginny, sure monet is her romantic interest but they have a lot of obstacles.

also, winnie giving out zoya's private information is in her character since zoya has yet to prove any loyalty to her, therefore she wouldn't return the gesture, as proven by the end of the episode where she makes up with julian after seconds. i understand they're sisters but this show was so quick to squash conflict then repeat the same thing again. someone on tiktok stated that wish they kept their sibling relationship a secret until the end of the season which would've been much better.

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Top bars near Houston, TX

Houston is a big beer town, and it has managed to keep up with the city's growth while still preserving its local character. The bars here have always had an independent streak, which means they're not afraid to serve local products and ignore the national trends.

These top bars in Houston are some of our favorites because they've been around for years (or even decades), but that doesn't mean they don't keep up with today's trends or try something new every once in awhile. We've included both new and old names on this list for a look at how far these bars have come since opening their doors—and how much farther they can go from here!

The Post Oak Hotel at Uptown Houston

Soaring 38-stories above the glamorous Uptown and Galleria area, The Post Oak Hotel is enthralling and visually striking in every sense. Upon entering the tower, a captivating atrium lobby greets guests with a grand chandelier laced with Swarovski crystals, extravagant artwork collection and a plush living area. The Post Oak Hotel complex is awash in greenery amid a canopy of majestic oak trees and cascading fountains – a true vision while dining al fresco at one of the many outdoor patios.

The Post Oak Hotel 10-acre property is prominently located in Houston’s tony Post Oak Uptown area, just steps away from The Galleria shopping mecca and a short drive to downtown Houston. Among only 19 Hotels and Spas to earn the coveted Forbes Five-Star rating in the United States, and one of 35 properties in the nation honored in the Preferred Hotels & Resorts Legends Collection, The Post Oak Hotel has received the brand’s top-level accreditation for its high-quality standards and unparalleled service.

Ross Dress for Less

Since 1982, our focus has been on bringing our customers a constant stream of high-quality department and specialty store brands at extraordinary savings (aka bargains) while providing an easy, fun and organized shopping experience. Ross Dress for Less is committed to giving back to its local communities through partnerships with the Boys & Girls Clubs of America (BGCA).

We are working together with a shared goal of helping children achieve academic success, build confidence and lead healthy lives.

The Home Depot

Whether you're looking for Hampton Bay patio sets or closet organizers, your favorite local hardware store has you covered. Our skilled associates can help you find the products you need for your DIY project. You can also check out our Home Depot product locator app, which displays a store map, the aisle location and the current inventory available for the items you're looking for.

Community involvement is important to us at The Home Depot and, since 2011, The Home Depot Foundation has invested more than $300 million in veteran causes and improved more than 43,000 veteran homes and facilities in 4,200 cities. We are also committed to helping our customers get the job done right, with workshops on a wide variety of topics to give you the skills to complete your project.

You can find us northeast of the intersection of the Sam Houston and Westpark Tollways, at Westheimer and Dunvale Roads, across from Target and Walmart. We look forward to seeing you soon.

Air Quality Express LLC is a full-service duct cleaning near me that can help you keep your air clean and your home comfortable. We offer a wide range of services, including duct cleaning, furnace installation and repair, air conditioning company with installation and repair, and more!

Air Quality Express LLC 8990 Park W Dr Suite F1, Houston, TX 77063 (832) 734 -8631 https://www.airqualitytech.com/ https://www.google.com/maps?cid=8642530759986204188