#BRA Artist loft

[lakesbian]

i always wonder about the cleaning situation at the loft. do they have a big cleaning day once in a while? do they ask coil to send someone to clean? does alec ever do the washing up? if so, is he an ipad baby who watched gaming channels while doing so?

i ascribe to a headcanon obtained from this gorgeous art:

(eternally thinking about this artists rendition of the loft. sooo incredibly lived-in....captures the Essence of those guys and they're not even in the drawing. i love you blood-spattered fancy shirt alec left on the counter i love you lisa's bra laying around on their massive pile of laundry i love you brian's protein powder on top of the fridge.)

which is to say:

they have a big whiteboard for delineating chores and alec is always doodling all over it and everyone gets affectionately mad at him for this

i'm obsessed w the implication in the last part of the drawing i snipped that tattletale had to do the other undersiders chores every day of the week but on the one day that was supposed to be hers alec did her chores instead. perhaps as some kind of insufferable bit, or perhaps because he felt he should recompense her for having to do his chores after he accidentally laid facedown in bed all monday because "he was tired" (having a bad day in the depression department)

i think brian does a comically disproportionate amount of the cleaning for someone who does not actually fucking live there. he'll see a mess that could Easily have been fixed already sitting there 5 days in a row and get annoyed enough to clean it up while alec is laying on the couch like [thinking 2 himself] Victory....I knew I wouldn't have to do it if I waited long enough... + sometimes lisa walks in on him just scrubbing the stove clean or some other task 15yos would not think to do and she wisely elects not to ask What For bc she knows that will result in brian going on a homeowners tangent

lisa and alec make rachel handle any Notably Gross Or Difficult chores if brian isnt there. lisa hovering over rachels shoulder directing her in how to fix their busted toilet while alec eats a bag of cool ranch doritos in the doorway and provides commentary. theyre holding the ladder steady for her while she changes the lightbulbs. butch of the house

also i think one time a dog threw up on the carpet and alec was like BITCH!!!! BITCH YOUR DOG JUST THREW UP ON THE CARPET IT'S REALLY GROSS and rachel trudges off to get cleaning supplies from the closet and then another dog comes up and starts eating it and alec is like BITCH!!!!! BITCH JUDAS IS EATING IT IT'S REALLY GROSS and rachel is like [furious] SO STOP HIM. and alec is like Ewww...nooo ew his face is covered in doggie upchuck i'm not touching him...and then rachel makes a really ominous growling noise so alec goes and hauls on judas' collar to drag him away but hes not happy about it

they always all throw a buncha clothes on the laundry pile when they come back tired after a mission and then theyre like Ok we will do that tomorrow. and then tomorrow theyre like id rather rest tho....so their laundry pile grows infinitely larger until they all miserably have to spend an afternoon cooperating to get that shit washed. And don't even get me started on the "folding" side of things.

[walkingthegr10-blog]

Perranuthroe to Mullion

Crossing Praa Sands as the sun breaks through

The sand gives way to rolling hills

The harbour at Portleven and Natalie’s harbour walk

A tea break and a phone call with Noah

Sea on the left and freshwater lake on the right at Looe Bar

Gunwalloe Bay, last cove before Mullion

Fourteen miles later, so happy to be here tonight

The sun is breaking through the clouds this morning, hooray! The kind folks at the campsite discuss the merits of sticking to the path versus taking the road and shaving a couple of miles off the journey, whilst preparing my flask of tea and cooking me a croissant. Shaving the miles wins today. I have A Destination. An actual bed in a pub in Mullion 14 miles away.

I arrive in Praa Sands around 11. I learn that it is equally acceptable to rhyme it with Bay or Bra; the latter does not reveal that you come from Guildford. A coffee and a cake from the beach café is tempting but I plough on and arrive in Porthleven a couple of hours later. 

Portleven is a delightful large harbour surrounded by cafés, restaurants, shops and galleries. My friend Natalie’s lovely hand-made book has won the Portleven Art Prize and I stop to admire it on show in the Net Loft gallery. An artist in the gallery tells me that he walked from his mother’s house in Basingstoke to his home in Bath after she died.

The going is gentler after Portleven, and truly stunning. The National Trust- protected pebble strip of Looe Bar runs between the sea and a fresh water lake for three miles. It’s almost empty. Eventually the beach gives way to gentle rolling hills and coves round Gunwalloe Bay to Mullion.

I sink a pint, eat hot food at the bar and marvel at the en suite and clean sheets. I’m a bit sun burned and blistered tonight, but all ok.

[theramseyloft]

7/9/21 Loft Notes

Brightheart ate yesterday.

Not doing the sick-hunch, but DEFINITELY fear-hunkering in the farthest corner.

Gave both antibiotics this morning.

She keeps looking at the food like she wants some, but may not be willing to eat with me in the room.

Articulate enough to preen around behind her wing.

Preened her tail for a bit.

Ate a few bites of food.

I have to hold the back of her head to get her oral antibiotics down safely.

Understandably, that's stressful and hurts.

Had a brief nap, and is now preening on one foot.

Doing aaaaalllll the stretches.

I think I can go out to the loft now and not worry so much that she'll have crashed when I come back in and I'll have missed the window for humane euthenasia, causing her to suffer for nothing.

Just confirmed that Spangle's owner has been found!

He was gracious enough to allow her to hatch and wean her peeps before she goes home, but he has been looking for her and is relieved to have found her.

Patron: "A bit sad to lose her from the loft, but it's wonderful to have found the owner, and one who was missing her at that. How often have we seen, "No, we don't want them back?" "

Rollers aren't supposed to navigate, and apparently the mark of a good flier is birds that come back to their hand.  Their breeders usually want them back, if you can find them.

He actually sought me out for Luxie. So, once her peep is on the ground, she has a home that won't actually try to fly her.

Couture tread Amiga.

She was trying to entice Thistle, but did not protest when Couture tread her instead.

Oh! Violent kisses!

Thistle is a liiiittle old fashioned for Amiga.

She kissed him silly and immediately dropped and presented.

He needed to finish displaying and circled her twice before treading her.

Now she and Couture are violently making out.

By which, I mean he doesn't even get to do the show off preens before she just steps up and forces her beak down his throat.

Couture is SUPER into that and they'll just feed back and forth without breaking the kiss for like a full minute.

Ok.

The older Harli gets, the less I think she's Satin's.

Patron: "Good thing you decided to keep her then?"

Yeah.

I think she's Leonard's.

She's spread.

Y'all need to see Lucy's magnificent bosom.

Patron: "Lucy you need a bra ma’am"

Foob has its own goddamn gravitational pull.

Patron: "lucy, the newest character in the dead or alive volleyball game"

(Furry artists, this is how you design a female bird with a realistically gigantic bust.)

Brightheart got their second doses of internal and external antibiotics.

While I was working in the loft, they ate about half of what I gave them.

Poos are good and solid.

[erhiem]

From left: Photo by Gi Naps/Getty Images; Photo by Rose Hartman/Archive Photos/Getty Images; Photo by Victor Virgil/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

Today, the House of Jean Paul Gaultier is relaunching its ready-to-wear line after a hiatus of six years. It comes 16 months after fashion’s “Maestro of Mehmed”, as journalist Georgina Howell dubbed her in the early ’90s, took her final bow as the brand’s designer, implying that this iteration of its namesake. will not be designed. Instead, the reins are taken over by a dedicated team from their atelier, with help crafted from the rotating doors of some of the most independent designers working today – Palomo Spain, Ottolinger, Nix Lecourt Mansion, Alan Crosetti and Marvin M’Tumo .

Since starting his own label in 1976, Jean Paul has been instrumental in turning underwear into acceptable outerwear, making sailor fashion sexy and, more generally, paving the way for designers to experiment with diverse and unexpected castings on the runway. have been responsible for. He also dedicated an entire collection – AW97 – to the fight against racism. The collection, titled ‘Fight Racism’, featured graphic prints of young anti-fascists with slogans printed on their chests.

In fact, with such a rich history behind it, and vintage JPGs becoming increasingly collectible since the recent renaissance—partly stemming from the Kardashians’ love of all things net—more thanks to the label’s revival. Couldn’t be the right time- the line to wear from now. Although it is a well-known fact that Jean Paul himself decided to step back from the category in 2014 after a somewhat tumultuous feud with Florence Tetier (graphic designer and co-founder). November MagazineNow serving as the brand’s creative and brand director, Ghar is poised to enter the field again. in an interview with WWDJPG’s general manager, Antón Gégy, described the relaunch as an opportunity to “celebrate Jean Paul Gaultier, its values, its archives and its history”. And what better way to raise the glass to the core of fashion? Horrible Instead look at seven of the most show-stopping moments from its most iconic era, the ’90s. Long live Gaultier!

Photo by Gie Knaeps/Getty Images

Madonna’s Conical Corset from the Blonde Ambition Tour, 1990

Back in 1989, when Jean-Paul Gaultier was told by an assistant that Madonna had told the audience, she was convinced that he was playing a trick with her. They knew how obsessed he was with her, just could not do be true But she soon found herself on the phone to the original queen of pop, making a match in ’90s fashion heaven. Naturally, Madonna already knew what she wanted: to create something for her that surrounded Jean Paul’s signature masculine-feminine crossover. Inspired by his love of the late ‘queen of Paris punk’ Edwij Belmore, Jean Paul conceived a pinstripe suit – the top of ’80s manhood – and a corset with the now famous conical bra, which he designed six years ago on AW84 had started for. /85.

Photo by Victor Virgil/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

Eva Herzigova’s cut-out dress, 1992

Thought harnesses were a new thing on the runway? Wrong! After all, you’re not known as a fashionista Horrible Without a sprinkling of kinks here and there, as this look proves well. Presented on JPG’s AW92 runway, this dress, so slick in its fit that clothes can even put on Eva’s body, exemplifies the powerful-yet-playful take on sexuality that serves as a throughline throughout the French designer’s body of work. runs as. Styled with bicep-clad opera gloves and proudly crafting the Czech-Italian supermodel’s bust, there’s a distinctive dome-y tone at play here, though no compromise on the beauty of the silhouette or the quality of the make. It speaks to an ideological throughline that runs through Jean Paul’s work – that no matter who a woman is or wants to be, she always has the right to be chic!

Photo by Pierre Guillaud/AFP via Getty Images

Houndstooth bodysuit inspired by Leigh Bowery, 1991

In an interview with iD in 2018, Jean Paul declared his love for the “London Way”, which means “just creating your own style, your own creativity and being free to do what you want to do”. When he took the idea back to Paris, it wasn’t very popular, but that didn’t stop him from creating his own trademark approach to design. He spent his youth in the 80s at famous London nightclubs such as Blitz and Heaven, where he met performance artist Leigh Bowery. In a nod to Bowery’s influence on fashion, Jean Paul sent down his interpretation of the Leigh Bowery Houndstooth bodysuit—which would later inspire Alexander McQueen for AW09 and Gareth Pugh for SS07.

Photo by Pierre Guillaud/AFP via Getty Images

‘Chic Rabbi’ Collection, 1993

For AW93/94, Jean Paul presented the ‘Chic Rabbi’ collection, inspired by the traditional dress of Hasidic Jews. Models in streamels and black suits danced to the sounds of a violinist who played live on the catwalk. The usual circle of supermodels was there, but Jean Paul also decided to cast someone who visually embodied the cultural context: a man with a big beard. During the ’80s and ’90s, designers were known for their casting choices, pioneering their diversity. “I’m fascinated by strong personalities, people who capture my imagination because they walk well down the street,” Gaultier explained in a 2014 interview. “Showing just one type of girl is a flaw,” he adds, “something I’ve always fought with. One kind of beauty – no. If I show a bigger girl, I’ll always show a younger girl.” will show.” It is now legend that Gaultier once posted an advertisement in a French daily newspaper release Looking for “atypical” models, saying that “facial distortions should not be avoided in application”.

Photo by Arnal/Garcia/Gama-Rafo via Getty Images

Mesh Tattoo Top, 1993

Back in 1993, the trend Declared this prestigious collection as “a startling vision of cross-cultural harmony”. While we’d be inclined to cringe at the somewhat reasonable look now that Jean Paul drove down the runway for the SS94 (which can actually be read as another nod to Leigh Bowery) it certainly Historical perspective. It also marked the debut of Jean Paul’s iconic mesh tops, which were inspired by a tattoo convention he once found himself spinning around – today, they are some of his most sought-after designs. The collection also includes heavy notes of punk, grunge, and 18th century men’s frock coats made in Jodhpur and denim in the typical JPG style. How did he ever find the place for all this?!

Photo by Pierre Vuthe/Sigma/Sigma via Getty Images

Björk!, 1994

Jean Paul’s celebrity friends don’t start and end with Madonna. A year after Björk’s properly titled debut solo album, First entry, Taking the music and fashion worlds by storm, she appeared on the designer’s AW94/95 show, about a magical train that stopped in a small village somewhere high in some mountains. And what, duh?! As you’d expect from JPG, the show was a mish-mash this time in terms of different styles of traditional arctic costume. The models trotted down the snow-covered runway (which almost tripped Kate Moss), decked out in a hell of a lot of fur, silk, wool, and leather.

Photo by Pierre Verdi / AFP via Getty Images

Op-Art Inspired Catsuit, 1995

Two women riding a motorcycle hit them. One of them descends and climbs onto a loft at a DJ booth. Jean Paul’s AW95 ‘Mad Max’ Show Has Started. As he was in the middle of designing the costumes for Luc Besson’s famous film fifth element In which Bruce Willis and Milla Jovovich fight a mysterious cosmic force, they had science-fiction in mind, which means it was technology and cyber-heavy. The bodysuit inspired by Viktor Vasarelli’s op-art paintings became the show’s most memorable aspect—now made super collectible by Kim K and Cardi B and partly responsible for the JPG-madness we’re seeing on Depop these days. Also on the show was Carmen Dell’Orefice, who walked with a live falcon on her arm and sported ornate football armor that lit up like a circuit board. Really prestigious.

Photo by Victor Virgil/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

trompe l’oeil torso top, 1995

The next season, Jean Paul took his quest for sci-fi polka dots further, this time translating it into menswear. This time, however, he brought his knack for trompe l’oeil print placement to the table—skills he had previously flexed in the aforementioned Les Tautouzes, and even as early as 1992, when he sculpted the enviable Presented Printed Mesh Top with Toros. The look sported here by Tanel Bedrossiantz is perhaps a little more figurative in its approach, though no less direct is its infrared-style suggestion of what might lie beneath the longtime house muse’s button-down shirt.

Photo by Danielle Simon/Gamma-Rafo via Getty Images

JPG Set Sale, 1998

In a promo video for JPG’s new ready-to-wear line, Bella Hadid is wearing a big red ship on her head. In case you didn’t already know, it debuted at the Haute Couture SS98 show, where it takes us back to the Age of Enlightenment. It was a time of scientific progress, the advent of modern capitalism and of course colonialism. The ‘explorers’ were sailing around the world from Europe, ‘discovering’ new lands for them – a ship serving as a nod to the continent’s shameful past. Some say, however, that it was during the Enlightenment that the fashion we know today – as a form of self-expression that can be accessed by the public – first began to emerge, making the historical period a fashion show. became an ideal subject. .

Photo by Rose Hartman / Archive Photos / Getty Images

Man Himself!, 1992

Sure enough, to write a list of Jean Paul Gaultier’s most iconic looks from his most iconic decade, and not for the man himself. Indeed, as Florence Tetier spoke to her before the label’s launch, “Everybody knows who she is!” whether it’s his striped Whether paired with a pleated black skirt or, as seen here, a denim vest and a punkish tartan kilt, JPG’s personal style has made her one of the most instantly recognizable designers of our time. Plus, there’s a direct connection between what she wore and what we then saw on the runway. While we may have never seen a proper, French Navy-standard Sailor From the designer, “he’s done a lot of stripes and nautical-inspired pieces,” notes Florence. “It’s really nice to see the link between the way he dresses and the way he designs.” we love you, Jean Paul! Follow iD on Instagram and TikTok for more fashion.

.

The post Jean Paul Gaultier’s most iconic 90s moments appeared first on Spicy Celebrity News.

[mariacallous]

Both @arathesane and @frankenshane tagged me in this, and since I’m needing a slight break before I either break my new work equipment or walk into traffic, let’s fucking do this.

name/nickname: Sean, and I have a whole host of epithets and nicknames accumulated over 30 years and 2 genders and 3 states.

gender: Trans(woman) (there is no iteration of this that doesn’t feel awkward)

star sign: Sagittarius Sun/Leo Moon/Libra Rising

height: 5′9-5′10 depending on when I get measured (without shoes, obvi)

birthday: Pearl Harbor Day

time: is a construct and has lost all meaning after the last year plus

favorite bands: In no particular order Panic! At The Disco, The Who, Fleetwood Mac, Creedence Clearwater Revival, Green Day, Vampire Weekend? and others I can’t think of off the top of my head.

favorite solo artists: Taylor Swift, Beyonce, Lizzo, Marina, St. Vincent, and more.

song stuck in my head: Currently it’s a rotation between Fifth Dimension’s Let The Sunshine In (so NOT including Aquarius)-Annie Lennox’s Walking on Broken Glass-Taylor Swift’s I Think He Knows

last movie: Oh fuck...I don’t remember. I do remember that the last movie I saw in theaters was The Goldfinch

last show: Probably Coupling.

when did i create this blog: 2010-2011, but for sure after I graduated high school.

what do i post: Whatever I feel like, usually? Stuff about my life and work and grad studies (such as they are), current events, food, theatre/drama, history, Chris Evans and other guys I think are hot (apologies for everything in advance btw)

last thing googled: “cost of living Wilmington, DE”, apparently

do i get asks: A fair amount. I’m usually down to answer them, and generally speaking people aren’t assholes.

why i chose my url: Because sometimes I’m truly brilliant and this was one such moment. More seriously, because Maria Callas is one of my favorite opera singers and I like puns and sometimes it fits.

following: A lot of really awesome people who put up with me.

followers: I am so very sorry and thank you for putting up with me.

average hours of sleep: at least 4-6? Let’s split the difference and say 5. Depends on the day/night.

lucky number: None of them currently?

instruments: My parents didn’t let me do band in school but my sisters did.

what am i wearing: The Loft Plus Fair Isle Poncho Sweater (black/white combo) with black stirrup leggings from Torrid, socks from probably Target (black or a very dark grey), and the black chenille cardigan (with pockets) from Target. I think my bra is from Torrid (front close)

dream job: White House Chief of Staff. Alternately, theatre critic and/or tv presenter (cooking/history/all of the above)

dream trip: A month in each of the countries of the former Yugoslavia, plus and/or a month in Hungary, the Czech Republic, and Romania. Or, a month plus going all over China (I went in 2007 for an international youth conference and have been dying to go back ever since).

favorite food: If we’re talking cuisine, Chinese, hands down. It’s my comfort food, my celebration food, my go-to. If we’re talking specific food item, probably cheese.

nationality: American (derogatory)

favorite song: Don’t make me do this - because the first song that came to mind was “High Hopes” by Panic! At The Disco

last book read: Thank You St. Jude: Women’s Devotion to the Patron Saint of Hopeless Causes by Robert A. Orsi. I’ve got like 5-6 others that I’m in the middle of I think, not counting books for grad school.

top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: Uhm...probably -The Trekverse -Whatever universe The Rook Files take place in -The alternate universe or timeline where Democrats are all-powerful that seems to exist for so many people.

A lot of people I’d have tagged were tagged by the two who tagged me, and so therefore you may consider yourself tagged if you so wish and would like to do this.

Thank you.

[stoopsbookstore]

The Costume (Chapter 3)

Warnings - Smut, Mentions of death

“Are you feeling okay?”

Dokyeom called Y/N, walking through the city streets with nothing to do.

“I could come over, model my costume for you. I was heading to the party site to set up some last minute things, take some photos in my suit for Instagram, but I think Jeonghan got it all.”

“Yeah, sure, go for it.”

“Are you okay?” Dokyeom spun around, heading in the direction of Y/N’s apartment, his bookbag on one shoulder, “you sound a little frizzed.”

“I’m fine, DK,” he shuddered at the use of his nickname, “it’s just worrying to think that the costume shop guy could’ve been us. I mean, we were in there hours before, what are the odds? Maybe someone got mad because you picked out the costume.”

“Just don’t worry, like I said, it wasn’t us. Focus on the good thing, we’re still here.”

“That’s hard when someone died, Seokmin.”

“Oh, I’m Seokmin now?”

“When you’re joking about someone’s death outside of Cards Against Humanity,” Y/N scolded the boy, laying on her bed, staring at her costume, “how long until you get here?”

“Give me 10 minutes,” never missing a chance to be corny, Dokyeom comforted Y/N, “I’ll keep you safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey you,” Dokyeom was greeted by Y/N, her hair done up in an elegant braided bun, “is that a wig?”

“Wig, extension, cleverly placed bobby pins, take your pick,” Y/N gestured Dokyeom into the loft, grabbing his bookbag off his shoulder, “so it’s in here?”

“Yeah, I got it dry-cleaned last night,” Dokyeom posed in his white shirt, “I also had one of the stylist tailored it, so it fits better.”

“Well, stop talking,” she shut the door, laying her back on the wood, “and show me how it looks.”

Dokyeom walked to the guest bathroom, leaving Y/N in the entranceway. She decided to show her friend the costume she chose. Walking into her room, she grabbed the costume, a short, sparkly green dress with a sweetheart neckline. Y/N took off the sweatshirt she was wearing, now the only clothes covering her was her pastel lilac bralette and black shorts.

Dokyeom had changed into his costume, watching Y/N in an somewhat voyeuristic way. He eyed her body, the way her shorts hugged her hips, the way the color of her bralette complimented her skin. The voice in his head had teasing him, treating him like a coward.

I know you want to touch her.

I see the way you look at her.

You’re alone in her apartment, her roommate is away from fall break.

This is your chance.

His legs brought his body over to Y/N, his fingertips dancing on her waist, her surprised dulling when she heard Dokyeom’s voice.

“I’m ready,” Y/N spun around to see Dokyeom in his Billy mask, taking it off to reveal a toothy grin, “I’m debating on if I should wear the mask or have the makeup artist do it.”

“The mask is a bit weird,” Y/N looked down to see Dokyeom dressed to the nines while she was in her undergarments, the tension growing at the intimate atmosphere.

His hand gripped her hips, Y/N putting one of her hands on Dokyeom’s chest, the pair silently giving each other permission as Dokyeom laid Y/N on the bed, pulling off the jacket. His hands started exploring Y/N’s body, her legs wrapping around his waist, Y/N untucking Dokyeom’s white shirt, pulling it off his body and throwing it to the side.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” kissing all over her chest, Dokyeom pulled Y/N’s bra up to take one of the nipples in his mouth, “watching Seungcheol and Wonwoo flirt with you while I was too much of a wimp to make my move.”

They were wrong to do so, they knew that you had feelings for Y/N.

They did it on purpose.

“I promise, it was just harmless fun,” Y/N moaned when Dokyeom sucked on a sweet spot on her neck, a mark sure to appear, “I’ve only ever wanted you. I was too scared, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Dokyeom pulled away, unzipping his pants, leaving them on the floor. Y/N took off her shorts, nothing underneath, Dokyeok yanking her onto his lap.

“Stunning, you’re just so fucking stunning.”

She would look better in a trap, don’t you think?

“Does this mean we’ll be going to the party together?” Y/N threaded her hands into Dokyeom’s hair, his hands molding her ass, his lips back on her breast.

“I’d be disappointed if it didn’t.”

You can’t run from this.

You won’t be able to save her.

Just picture that dress all bloodied up, her arms and legs tied to a chair.

“Do you have any protection?” Dokyeom ignored the voice pestering him, Y/N hopping off his lap to look in her dresser for the small foil.

She threw the condom over to Dokyeom, the boy laying back as Y/N straddled his hips. Y/N took off her bralette, joining the piles of clothes on the floor before taking Dokyeom’s boxers off. Dokyeom thrusted his hips to meet Y/N’s, teasing her as she let out a squeal, her hands going to his shoulder. Their bodies were tangled up, too busy focusing on each other’s pleasure, ignoring the ringing of Dokyeom’s phone.

[eilonwiiy]

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let’s get to know the person behind the blog!

- I was a vocal major in college.  I literally have done nothing with singing since.  Sometimes that makes me sad.  Other times it makes me feel free.

- I have an idea for a ridiculous space adventure that involves a bachelor party scavenger hunt gone wrong, but I’m too chicken to lean into it.

- I have a painting of a mermaid pug hanging, shell bra and all. My mom lives in an artist building and everyone hangs their art outside their studio lofts.  Everytime I visit my mom, I have to pass this one artist in particular and they would have this painting of a mermaid pug outside their door and every time I walked by I would always comment on it.  Then, a couple years back, my mom somehow managed to buy it off the artist and gave it to me for my birthday.  It’s the most ridiculous thing I own and I treasure it.

[februarysunflower]

[7:59pm] Hideaway

You were glad you'd given Hongjoong the spare key to your apartment for tonight, knowing it would be far less suspicious for him to come into the building on his own than for you to come downstairs to get him. As usual, he didn't tell you what he was planning for tonight but you had also made a couple of plans of your own.

You changed into the lingerie that you bought earlier and put a white dress over it for until you got home. One of the other makeup artists at KQ had insisted that she do your makeup for tonight, and now you had soft rosy eyeshadow on that made your eyes pop and a gloss on your lips that she swore by. 

Your plan was to ditch the dress as soon as you got back to your apartment and light a few candles to make up for the fact that you were only in your dingy loft. Hongjoong had suggested that you get a hotel room together to make it more special, but there was too much risk of being caught together that you decided it was best to just have a night in. Besides, you had a feeling tonight was going to be amazing no matter where you were.

You fumbled with the lock to your door before realizing it was already unlocked. When you push it open, Hongjoong was on the floor in the living room while he tried to get the string lights that were hanging in the living room to plug into the outlet. Once he got them lit up, he stood up and looked at you with a goofy grin plastered on his face.

"Hey," you slowly take in the room as you step inside. A fortress made of navy bed sheets and pillows sits in the center of it with two wine glasses and a bottle of wine sitting at the edge. Fairy lights are strategically hanging inside so that it's possible to see in the otherwise dark hideaway.

"Hey," he stands with his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. You’re amazed that he can stand to wear such hot material in this heat, but you’re even more amazed at his handiwork.

"What's this?" You ask as you walk towards him. His hands gently find your hips as you stop in front of him, pulling you the rest of the way so that no space is separating us. He kisses you softly and lingers against your lips, taking a moment to enjoy being alone together.

"I wanted tonight to be special," he begins, "I can't exactly take you anywhere, so I made a little getaway that fit our... uhhh... situation." He winks at you and gives you another timid kiss.

You tug at the collar of his shirt as a signal for him to kiss you harder, but Hongjoong remains firm and continues to be gentle with you. It's almost as if he's afraid to be more aggressive with you, but you know that deep down, it's what he wants too. His reserve is sweet, but you’re ready for more.

Hongjoong breaks the kiss and takes your hands in his, pulling you into the fort that he has made. You both crawl inside the blue hideaway, and you notice that with the fairy lights against the dark backdrop, it looks a lot like the night sky. When you look down, the sheets beneath you are tan in color.

Hongjoong is smiling as he lies down on his stomach next to you, watching you as you take in your secret hiding place. "If I had it my way, I would've taken you on a walk along the beach and then whisked you away to our hotel room that looked out onto the ocean. I figured this was the closest I could get to that."

His eyes are sparkling as he looks over at you. There's barely a few inches separating your faces, but you decide to go ahead and eliminate the space and kiss him again. 

Hongjoong pulls you on top of him and at first, you worry that you’re squishing him, but he seems unaffected by your weight above him.

"Thank you, this is better than any place you could've taken me,” you whisper.

"You're welcome," he brushes a lock of hair behind your ear and reaches up to kiss you again. 

You bite your lip and relish in the adorable blush that is spreading across his nose and cheeks. He's just so cute, and your mind begins to go through the dark fantasies that have been clouding your mind all day. You have no idea what he plans to do tonight, but you fully intend to find out.

You slowly reach up and push the strap of your dress off of your shoulder, your eyes never leaving his as you sit in a tense silence. As you push the second strap down, the soft material falls at your waist. Hongjoong's eyes grow wide at the sight of your bra, and he pulls his lip between his teeth while he decides what to do.

"Damn," he breathes as he takes in your newly exposed frame. 

His breathing has gotten shallow as he begins to realize where you’re taking this. Your pulse quickens as you reach up to cup his face, but the moment that you touch his soft skin, your anxiety is replaced with need. 

This time, he's the one who hurriedly wraps you in his arms, kissing you hungrily as he pulls you up from the ground. Your dress drops to the floor and pools around your feet, but you easily step out of it and follow his guidance to the couch, which is also within the fortress he has built for you. 

He sits you down slowly, trying his hardest to not let his lips leave yours, even for a moment. Once you’re seated at the edge of the couch, he trails his lips down your neck and in between my breasts. You reach behind yourself to take off your bra, but Hongjoong lowers your hands down to the cushions beneath you and looks up at you with adoring eyes.

"Leave it on for now," he whispers against your skin. "Fuck, you're beautiful."

He continues to kiss a line down your stomach with his hands resting on your thighs. The feeling of his lips on your skin is enough to drive you absolutely crazy, and you can only imagine what you’ll be feeling later on. He pauses at the waistband of the pale pink panties and slides them down your legs.

"Sit back for me, noona," he purrs while looking up at you through his dark lashes. You lean back in your seat until your back is resting against the pillows behind you. 

Before you can question what he’s planning on doing with you, he drops to his knees in front of you and places a soft kiss on your clit.

He does it again, this time while barely touching you with his fingertip. A loud moan falls from your lips, and Hongjoong ducks his head down between your thighs. His tongue flicks your clit, and you can feel his finger slip inside of you. 

Another moan comes soon after, followed by another, each one louder than the one before. You through your head back against the couch and allow your eyes to fall shut while you enjoy his gentle movements.

"How's that?" Hongjoong asks as he slips a second finger inside of you. You gasp as the feeling in your stomach intensifies and work to form a response.

"So good," you manage between shaky breaths. 

He begins to pump his fingers faster than before, and you start to feel lightheaded from his movements. You let out a whimper when he sucks on your clit, your legs tensing with an unfamiliar intensity.

Hongjoong slowly stands from his spot in front of you and kisses you without removing his hand. His free arm rests next to your head to support his weight while he stands over you, pressing you into the couch with his kisses. The burning in your stomach is becoming intense to the point that you’re not sure you’ll be able to take much more.

"Hongjoong," you whimper against his lips as he continues to pulse his fingers in and out. Part of you wants to scream out, but another part wants to melt into a puddle at his touch. 

Suddenly, he pulls away and cups your face with his free hand to look at you. "Where do you want to-"

"Here," you answer before he can even get the entire question out. Every inch of you is burning the longer you go without him. You tug his shirt over his head, and he smiles at your eagerness.

"Okay," he chuckles and struggles to get his pants off of his legs while still inside your tent. Once he's left in just his boxers, he looks over at you with a shy smile. You nod as a signal that you want them off as well, and he gingerly complies with your request.

His size takes you by surprise, and you find yourself questioning how he can possibly fit inside of you. Before you can read too much into it, he offers you his hand and smirks at you in the most delightful way.

"It's not nice to stare, noona," he teases as you take his hand. You can feel your cheeks heat up when he calls you out, but as soon as you’re on your feet, he pulls you close and quickly kisses your cheek.

"Sorry," you blurt out, "it's hard not to."

"I don't mind," he assures you before kissing you again. He takes a step back and looks you up at down before his eyes land on your bra. "May I?"

You nod silently and he reaches behind you to untie the ribbons that hold the undergarment together. Hongjoong tenderly slides the straps from your shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours. Once it's on the floor, his eyes become fixed on your bare chest, and you giggle a little at the reversal of roles.

"I thought it was impolite to stare," you chastise him, but he just smiles. 

He brings his hands to your breasts and gently squeezes them, and you hum at the feeling. He steps forward to close the space between you, and you’re surprised by how naturally your body fits with his. 

You had expected to be nervous at this moment, but with Hongjoong, you have no doubts or uncertainties.

He walks behind you and sits down on the couch, gazing up at you with his big brown eyes. He reaches up for you and takes your hands in his. 

You’re not sure how you’re going to feel after this. All you know is that you want him more than you've ever wanted anything.

PSA I moved to https://atinoona.tumblr.com/ so catch me there for more ATEEZxNOONA smexy time

[bostonrealtors]

Keen Lofts!

Attention all certified artists. This loft is being offered to artists only for the first 30 days from today’s posting.The asking price is $375,000 for both Artist and non-Artists. This is a market rate condo and not an affordable rate condo.

Please email info@chelsearealestate.com to schedule a showing or for any questions. Our cell phone # is 781-201-9488. We need 24-48 hours notice in advance for showings.

After the 30 day artist offering this listing will be marketed to the public. No offers can be submitted by us to the sellers for non-artists for the first 30 days from today’s posting.

Here is your chance to Live/work in the Keen Lofts!  Check out this bright and sunny Keen loft in a historic converted school building with elevator. This historic Tudor style building has large windows, high ceilings, h/w floors with open style layout, however the Walk-in closet and bath are very private. This open layout style has 12 foot ceilings, maple hardwood floors, exposed ductwork, 8 foot windows, a galley kitchen w/ breakfast bar, central HVAC, and large walk-in closet. A deeded parking space is included.

Keen Lofts

Keen Lofts are located at 220 Spencer Ave Chelsea, MA 02150

Keen Lofts is located at 220 Spencer Ave Chelsea and is for sale by Jeff Bowen

  Keen Lofts! 220 Spencer Ave Chelsea. Unit 106. Keen Lofts! Attention all certified artists. This loft is being offered to artists only for the first 30 days from today's posting.The asking price is $375,000 for both Artist and non-Artists.

[queerchoicesblog]

Quill And Ink (RoD, Ximena x MC)

Hey there! As promised a RoD Ximena x MC fanfic which is basically a rewriting of the diamond scene of Chapter 5: the title is taken from the quill tattoo panel option (I picked that one 😅) so sadly it's not fully mine!

Also, I used some of the lines of the original books: I don't own them nor the characters. Full credit to PB writers for both.

Hope you like it!

Word Count: 1551

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @psychopathdreamer21 @bbaba-yagaa @abunchofbadchoices @silverhawkenzie @bhavf @begging-for-kamilah @melodyofgraves @kennaxval @strangerofbraidwood

Ximena fanfic tag: @bobasheebaby @boneandfur

(Previous Ximena x MC fanfics: Uptown Girl & Milkshakes? It’s A Date!)

__________________________

He didn't even look at her. He couldn't even look at her.

He gave her his back, incapable to meet her gaze. He could barely tolerate her presence. Ellie...his beloved daughter, his greatest disappointment. “This is not the Ellie I knew”.

"Where did I go wrong?" he asked to the picture of his wife.

You didn't do anything wrong, Dad, it was all my fault. I messed up big time. And now, I'm dead to you, the most important person in my life.

These thoughts haunted Ellie's mind as she walked down the stairs of Logan's loft and stepped inside the kitchen. Most of the gang was there.

"Morning, princess!" Mona greeted her.

She was straddling a folding chair backward, her shirt off, while Ximena tattooed the back of her shoulder. Ellie nodded in acknowledgment and took a seat in a free chair.

"Did you sleep well? We were thinking of going getting some breakfast after the girls are done!" Toby informed her dragging his chair closer.

"How can she be hungry? Are you nut, Toby?" Colt groaned from his spot on the counter.

"Chill, Pretty Boy! Toby was just trying to help" Mona scolded him.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to be insensitive" Toby apologized and searched Ellie's gaze with a grim expression. "I'm awkward with emotional stuff, I only meant to be kind. I totally get it if you don't want to join"

"See?" Mona pointed out as she stood and walked towards the mirror to admire X's work.

"Thank you, Toby. I appreciate that" Ellie gave the guy a weak smile before going quiet again.

Her eyes fell on the tip of her shoes and an uncomfortable silence filled Kaneko's hideout. That's when Ximena took off her gloves and approached the Wheeler girl.

"How are you holding up, honey?" she asked putting a hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Honest answer?" Ellie asked and the young woman face twisted in concern as she nodded.

"I feel like crap. I don't know what to do with Dad and...everything"

"No night last forever. It's always dark before a new dawn" Mona commented and everyone turned towards her.

"It's a Lebanese saying. Or some Katy Perry lyrics, whatever" she explained, shrugging.

"Whatever she meant to say, M. is right, sweetie" Ximena confirmed.

"I know, it's just...tough. I disappointed him" Ellie sighed.

"You're totally entitled to feel sorry, pumpkin. Just know that we're here for you and of there's anything we can do..."

"It's so sweet of you guys, truly. Knowing that helps already" the girl gave everyone a tired smile. "Oh and nice tat, Mona. What does it say?"

"It's a secret, princess" Mona said winking at her.

"Fair enough" Ellie chuckled then she turned back to X. "I didn't know you were a tattoo artist though!"

"I was a tattoo artist back in the day. I like to keep it up as a side-hustle now" the tall woman explained.

"Hold on, this gives me an idea" Toby exclaimed cheerily "Why don't you get a tattoo from X?"

Colt gaped and was about to speak his mind once more but Mona froze him in place with a persuasive side look.

"Well, I've never-" Ellie started.

"You don't have to sweetie. I would be happy to but-"

"Yeah, obviously! No pressure! Why don't you take a look at X's samples though? At the very least it can take your mind off things" Toby insisted, giving her his most encouraging smile.

"I suppose I can do that" Ellie agreed.

Ximena's face brightened as she handed the girl her sample drawings. She gave her space and moved to check on Mona. After a while Ellie pointed one and said rather shyly as usual:

"I like this one"

"Which one, sweetheart?" Ximena asked walking beside her. "The quill?"

"Yeah...I may probably want to remember this day if it makes sense. But still, a tattoo is a tattoo so I want to start small and see if I like it"

"You're gonna love it. And when you do, I've got a whole head full of tattoo ideas-" Toby cheered but Mona cut him short.

"Maybe save that for later, Toby"

"A quill so? It's perfect for you! It's small, cute, classy...and scholars used quills to write back then, right? Like Shakespeare used quills...and you're our resident Shakespeare, honey" Ximena ruffled Ellie's hair playfully making her chuckle.

"Okay guys, we're leaving the kitchen to the ladies!" Mona announced. "We can still get breakfast for everyone. After Toby get a shower because you smell of grease, man. In the meantime, Colt and I will check for the best place in town to get them"

"Sounds fair to me. For once" Kaneko's son concealed jumping off the counter and patting a groaning Toby's shoulder.

"We'll be waiting for the donuts! Oh and you pals, of course" X teased as the gang headed towards the stairs.

"And thank you" Ellie added.

Mona turned and gestured her that it was nothing. Then she disappeared up the stairs.

"Okay so...let's get started, sweetheart!"

As X. gathered her equipment, the Wheeler girl walked back to the chair and took off her shirt, blushing as self-awareness of the situation kicked in.

She shivered when Ximena placed a gloved hand on her bare shoulder to steady her.

"Can you...? Hm-" the former tattoo artist nodded at the left shoulder.

"Oh yeah sorry!" Ellie's cheek turned a new shade of rosy when she lowered the shoulder strap of her bra.

"No apologies needed, sweetie" X said before clearing her throat.

Then she spoke again.

"Okay, El...I can't promise you that it won't hurt a little bit but it's a metaphor of life, right?" they both laughed. "I'll go easy on you, just know that if it hurts too much, say the word and I stop"

Ellie nodded and Ximena started working.

When it was all done, the former that to artist gestured her to go have a look at the mirror. The girl obliged and a tiny small lighten up her face.

"Do you like it, El.?" Ximena asked stopping behind her.

Ellie looked at their reflection in the mirror, X. towering over her while giving her a weak smile, her head slightly cocked to the side. Then she lowered her eyes to the tattoo: little quill seemed like flying as her chest raised and fell.

"It's beautiful! Thank you X...it means a lot"

"Don't even mention it, El. Anytime"

They both looked back into the mirror at the same time and their gaze met there. They stared at each other then X. said

"I'm just happy I was the one tattooing you"

"When I knew you were a tattoo artist I wouldn't have it any other way"

Ximena gently placed her hands over Ellie's upper arms, never breaking eye contact.

"And this way you will have something that reminds you of me when you leave for that prestigious college".

Another smile appeared on the driver's face but, as much as she tried, it didn't fully reach her eyes. Ellie grimaced too.

"Who knows? Maybe I messed that up too"

She felt Ximena gently turning her. When she was facing X. she saw the pained yet determined look on her face.

"Ellie, you will go to that college. You're too smart not to. You're just having a bad day, babe. It might seem to you that you're falling to pieces now but you're stronger than this. I promise you"

Ximena pulled her closer and held her tight. Without thinking, Ellie wrapped her arms around the driver's waist and rested her head behind her collarbone. That's when she felt the soft, shy touch of Ximena's fingertips on her curls and a feather-like kiss on the crown of her head.

Ellie shut her eyes and hugged the young woman tighter.

"If I ever manage not to mess it up...will I lose you too? All this..."

"Of course not, El." Ximena whispered and Ellie could swear her voice was shaking a little. "We'll always have your back...and I'll be just a phone call away"

They lingered into each other arms, in a comfortable silence, with X. gently stroking Ellie's hair until someone knocked at the door.

"They must be back" the driver commented as they parted.

"Special donuts delivery!" Toby triumphantly announced carrying a huge bakery box, Colt and Mona in tow.

"Don't forget the coffee!" Colt added placing a bunch of takeaway coffee cups on the kitchen table.

"Yeah the guys here went all the way with the whole 'donuts for breakfast' thing" Mona teased gesturing at the box.

"Hey there's no such thing as too many donuts" Toby playfully bumped her.

Then he turned to Ellie who put her shirt on in the meantime.

"Hey sunshine, are you hungry now?"

The girl gave him a grateful smile.

"You bet!"

"Hell yeah! Then nobody touch the box, Ellie pick first!" Toby shooed Colt and Ximena away as he placed the box in front of the girl.

"Logan and the boss are on their way, I guess we can start" Mona said and started handing out the coffee cups.

"Oh and later you have to show us your tat, princess. I'm sure X. worked her magic again" she added winking at her friend and colleague.

[paysagesinterieurs]

Texte 276 : conversation entre Julie Mehretu et Smooth Nzewi

April 4, 2019 Williamsburg, Brooklyn Conversation between Julie Mehretu and Ugochukwu-Smooth C. Nzewi hosted by ISCP Trustee Sophie O. Riese.

Se programmer une soirée exceptionnelle et la désirer au point d’en rêver même éveillée. Se voir performer en La Journaliste. Rêver de mon audace ou pas de faire un max de selfies. Je trouve cela intéressant de se figer soi-même à tel moment, à tel endroit avec telle personnalité. C’est comme si on s’incrustait par côté dans l’Histoire. Alors voilà, je vais rencontrer Julie Mehretu dans quelques heures. Je songe à ma gueule en La Journaliste, et me voilà convaincue qu’il me faut trouver un aplanisseur de rides et de grains de peau. En vieillissant ma peau se crevasse, et le maquillage que j’utilise exagère ça plutôt que de l’amoindrir. C’est ce que j’ai dit dans un anglais titubant à la vendeuse de chez Ricky’s. Je lui ai acheté le matos qu’elle m’a conseillé en rêvant d’y croire alors même que sa peau emplâtrée se craquelait. Jeune pourtant la meuf. Je m’emplâtre à mon tour, au point de me rater, réalisant le pire des maquillages. J’enfile ma robe dentelle que je considère parfaite comme tenue de « cocktail », mes collants dentelle noire, mes chaussures de danse de salon latino scintillantes, et mon manteau en laine trouvé dans une fripe américaine. Je descends l’escalier. Au bord du trottoir, je lève le bras pour choper un taxi, j’en ai un de suite, d’habitude je fais le singe pendant plusieurs minutes, je me sens américaine. Il est 6:17pm, le taxi me dépose devant la porte vitrée de l’immeuble, une jeune femme souriante m’ouvre, me demande mon nom, je lui répond: - Sophia El Mokhtar. - Oh! Nice to meet you Dear Sophia El Mokhtar! Je dépose mon manteau, et je prends l’ascenseur. Les portes s’ouvrent directement dans l’appartement, je passe le hall d’entrée annonciateur d’un loft de dingue et je suis accueillie très chaleureusement par la directrice d’ISCP, Susan Hapgood, qui me présente ensuite à la propriétaire des lieux, Tracey Riese, puis à Sophie O. Riese qui est la curatrice d’ISCP, puis Jeanne la grand-mère de Sophie qui parle très bien français et l’on papote toutes les deux comme deux vieilles amies avec nos verres à l’allure semblable, l’un contenant de l’eau, l’autre de la Tequila. Elle me dit que je peux aller partout dans l’appartement, elle me conseille d’ailleurs l’étage. Il y a des œuvres d’art partout, c’est Art Basel dans un loft, de belles pièces, jusque dans la salle de bains. Ma mâchoire lâche prise. Nick Cave dans un appart ça a de la gueule, y’a pas à dire, et cette grande peinture de Mickalene Thomas elle t’emporte dans son tourbillon de couleurs pour te hacher menu, c’est l’Olympia de Manet revue et corrigée en version black. Yeah! j’adore ça crache bien dans un salon. C’est peut-être la pièce maîtresse de la collection Riese. Il y a aussi une œuvre qui m’est rentrée dans la tête façon bulldozer, de Samara Golden située au-dessus d’un lit, œuvre 3D c’est bon ça. Et puis les deux œuvres de Titus Kaphar qui m’ont pas mal percutée aussi. Deux personnes s’assoient pour assister à la conversation, je m’approche et le jeune homme me dit: - Oh! Nous ne nous sommes pas présentés, Daniel Kapp! - Sophia El Mokhtar! On s’échange les « nice to meet you » puis il me demande ce qui m’amène ici et comment j’ai eu vent de cet événement : - blabla Social média... blabla French visual artist... Je lui propose de choisir une carte de visite, blabla follow Mehretu depuis 2012. And you? - Je travaille pour la Marian Goodman Gallery me dit-il dans un français parfait. Il me donne sa carte, je lui dis que j’étais présente au vernissage de William Kentridge, et que je vais assister au Reich/Richter event du 9 avril, il check si il travaille ce jour-là. Oui! On se verra, on est contents. Après que Sophie O. Riese et Susan Hapgood ont fait les présentations, Julie Mehretu et Ugochukwu-Smooth C. Nzewi prennent place, la discussion débute et je comprends rien. Mon cerveau fournit plus d’effort à se foutre de ma gueule et à s’imaginer triomphant dans un corps maîtrisant l’anglais, qu’à fournir des efforts pour essayer de comprendre ce qui se dit. La conversation terminée je tourne autour de Julie Mehretu et de Smooth Nzewi, comme un requin, c’est que je les veux mes photos. J’erre autour des îlots de personnes, pas trop près, pas trop loin, j’attends le moment pour tenter une incrustation de mon corps dans le cercle prestigieux. J’y suis, je la salue, lui dis des mots de politesse, probablement maladroits, je lui dis que j’aime son travail, que je la suis depuis Art Basel Miami Beach 2012, et que je suis heureuse de voir prochainement son travail à la 58ème Biennale de Venise. Bam - sourires, câlinette de tête, photo quoi! Puis je croise le regard d’un homme, 35 ans, beau, noir, il a l’air cool, on se sourit, nous nous présentons. Il s’appelle Nate Lewis, il est artiste, il est à la Fridman Gallery dont le Galeriste est présent ce soir, il réalise que je parle mal, mais il ne me rejette pas m’invitant même à danser. Très sympa. Tranquille. On s’échange nos cartes. Son Galeriste, lui est discret et très observateur, il ondule parmi les gens, en silence, il tâte le terrain, il scrute les expressions, peut-être encore plus que moi. Il se déplace dans l’espace en lignes droites, tête penchée sur son épaule gauche. Voilà, il est 9:30 pm, je salue mes hôtes et repars pour Manhattan.

Professionnal kisses from New York where I have the desire to penetrate many art circles and realise selfies! 💋💋💋

[hcwlingccmmandcs]

Barnes - Two (Dancing’s Not a Crime)

The Great Gatsby Inspired Fic

<< Prologue | | < One | | Barnes Masterlist | | Masterlist

Pairing: This chapter is a whole mess™️ and there’s really no way to pinpoint where there’s a pairing lmao

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Remember when I said there’d be alcohol consumption and abuse and mentions of sex? Yeah, this chapter has it all. Sorry. Please, don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with that.

Author’s Note: So, this was supposed to be posted yesterday. But now I’m redeeming myself by posting it today and at an earlier time. Here it is, chapter two! This chapter is a bit of a clusterfuck though, so be wary. 

If you know what happens in TGG, this will not contain everything in that book, and is not strictly based on said book. This is inspired by F. Scott Fitgerald’s novel, and will not match word for word or scene for scene. However, that said, there will be some parallels, as I have intended.

Tags: Everything - @captainrogerss @bucky-plums-barnes @bionic-buckyb @buckyforbreakfast @cravingmarvel @captain-ariel-barnes @trenchcoatdevilsworld @borkingbarnes @wintrsoldiers @doctoranon @thefridgeismybestie @ellacaramella Barnes - @marveldcmistress @chook007 @gemgemswift If you want to be tagged/untagged for this series or everything I write, let me know!

The rest of lunch had been interesting. You had learned that the mysterious James Barnes was your neighbor, and that he did, in fact, throw parties every Saturday. Heidi suggested that Steve take you to the next one, and you both agreed.

Steve. He was so sweet, and so nice, and so polite. You couldn't think of any reason not to like him. But then again, you only met him once. Heidi had mentioned that the two of you would be cute together, a notion that dusted the blond man's cheeks pink. You entertained the idea a little in your head.

But then pushed it away. You were new in town, trying to start something for yourself. You shouldn't get in a relationship right away. You needed to focus on your goals.

Which led you to a bookstore in town about two days later, where you ran into John Schmidt, Heidi's husband.

You were only renting some textbooks that your online classes needed, but you also wanted an excuse to go out into the city to explore a little. John was there, following a shorter man through the aisles. The man with him looked so pleased, his eyes bright behind his round glasses.

“Y/N,” Schmidt said passively when you smiled at him in the science aisle. Arnold was holding a few books already, and excitedly looking at physics texts when your cousin's husband greeted you. The short man's head snapped up instantly, his eyes landing on you.

“Oh! Are you a friend of John's?” he chirped, standing up and adjusting his dress pants a little.

“I-” you started, only for Schmidt to interrupt.

“Yes, she's a friend,” he added too quickly. You wondered why he was acting like this.

“I'm Arnold,” the short man introduced himself, smiling happily at you, nodding to his occupied hands with a small chuckle. “I'm John's partner.”

Oh?

“We were just passing through some shops on our way. We-”

“We're having a small party tonight, at our loft. We would love for you to come! I really do want to get to know you better. John never brings his friends around,” Arnold cut him off excitedly.

“Oh, she-”

“Uhm, I-”

“Nonsense! You're coming to our party!” the small man insisted.

“Really, I can't. I've got schoolwork to do.” Well, that wasn't a complete lie. You did have some assignments that were due soon, but not the next day.

“School can wait one night,” he dismissed your excuse with a breath. “Go put your books down. We're leaving.”

And just like that, you had fallen into a trap.

Arnold led you and John around a grocer and then a liquor store before deciding that he had picked enough for the party. John had to shoulder most of the weight on the walk to their downtown apartment, but his paramour didn't seem to care.

The party had a slow start, with the neighbors trickling in. You understood what Arnold meant when he said “small”.

There were only a handful of guests. Two of which were a married couple, a pair who didn't lose physical contact with one another the entire night. One of the guests was Arnold's sister, an obnoxious little lady with a voice too high-pitched and a laugh too loud. There was some random guy there as well, and to this day you still couldn't remember his name or why he was even there.

Then there was the last person in the group. A stunning red-haired woman with a sensual smirk on her matching lips. She was some artist or photographer or something, but the way she moved made you think that she could've been an exotic dancer in another life.

Natasha was her name, and damn if it didn't sound so nice when she purred it in her introduction to you.

You spent most of your time sitting on the ottoman between the formal sofa and the chaise. Natasha occupied the latter, leaning towards you as she lounged against the back of it, her feet slipped out of her heels and on the plush velvet seats.

Arnold's sister, Dolores, had served the first bottles of scotch and wine and champagne to the whole party, making sure everyone was drinking. She didn't let anyone's glass be empty for longer than five minutes.

Needless to say, you didn’t remember many details from the party, just spots and general gists of moments.

Like the time when the bottles ran out and Arnold hired the doorman to go buy more for them. He apparently took too long, and got a verbal lashing from Schmidt because of it. Arnold still paid the guy handsomely.

When the group started getting into the new bottles, the married woman, sitting on her husband’s lap, asked when John and Arnold would marry. Arnold batted his eyes and pleaded with your cousin’s unfaithful husband, who was obviously distressed about the subject.

Schmidt had been weaving lies to keep his marriage from his lover, and seemed like he’s been doing so for a while, because he muttered, “We’ve talked about this, love.”

Arnold was not happy with that answer, and retorted, “We need to talk about it again. I want to get married.”

The two men bickered with each other for a short while before Schmidt lost control of his anger and slapped Arnold across the face. The whole room went near silent, even the music on the stereo seemed distant.

Schmidt ran a hand through his hair before quietly apologizing to Arnold, who excused himself to go into the bedroom. John followed after him. After the bedroom door shut, everyone was still quiet for a moment before Dolores spoke up.

“Refills, anyone?” All of the guests nodded.

The next spots of your memory were hazy and blurred together.

You remember hearing screams coming from the bedroom. What started as anger bled into pleasure, and you remember being uncomfortable.

Somehow, some way, the entire group, including Arnold and John, was dancing around the main living room, bumping into furniture and each other. Natasha danced with you, you assumed, since your memories consist of her sultry smirk and the red velvet dress she wore floated through your vision.

Laughing, loud music, and the sound of drinks being poured filled most of your blurred-out visions of that night.

But you recall that you woke up from your inebriation on the couch, Natasha laying with you. She was beautiful, even asleep. Her dress was pushed up her thighs and her red hair was mussed, her lipstick smeared. To your horror, there were faint red marks on her neck. Your clothes were messed up as well, your shirt on the arm of the sofa and your pants unbuttoned. Your bra was still on, to your relief.

Carefully, you had disentangled yourself from the sleeping woman and picked up your things, redressing yourself before heading down to the lobby.

Your phone told you that it was one in the morning, and you prayed to whatever deities there were that Steve was still awake as you tapped on his contact.

“Y/N?” he asked, his voice seemingly wide awake. There was no hint of exhaustion in how he sounded. You sighed. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Ca-can you come pick me up?” you asked before a hiccup tore from your chest.

“Where are you?” There were voices on his end, but you couldn’t make sense of their words, only Steve’s. “Are you drunk?”

“Yeah…” you murmured, slumping onto the cushioned bench in the lobby before telling him where you were.

“I’ll be right there.”

You don’t know when you fell asleep on the bench, or how long it took Steve to get to the building. You just remember opening your eyes in a sleek car, seeing the blond man next to you, worry all over his face.

“Just… take me home…” you whimpered to him before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Three >

[ficswithrimi]

Golden (Chapter 11)

First: Chapter 1

Last: Chapter 10

Next: Chapter 12

Wanna talk to Golden and get to know him or expose him? Then follow @goldenrecs!

A/N: Whew! Is that the end of this series I see rapidly approaching?! It is! So... I apologize for the wait but here it is! No song recs unless you wanna listen to Euphoria lmao but I may use that next chapter so... anyways, please enjoy and PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK IS GONNA HAPPEN! I love reading predictions! Enjoy~

         Euphoria…

                   “These are amazing!” Y/N excitedly said as she and Jungkook sat in his dorm room looking through his drawings. It was Sunday evening and they still only had each other to rely on to keep company while most of the campus was at home. All their friends would be retuning by tomorrow, however, as classes started back up on Tuesday.

         “They’re okay…” Jungkook said sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Honestly, he was a hot mess. He’s never had a girl in his dorm before – it wasn’t allowed in the underclassmen dorms – and he was freaking out on the inside. However, after the connection he felt with Y/N yesterday at the studio, he had to see her again. He yearned to learn more about the young woman and tell her more things about him.

         It was just a shame that he was already off to a bad start. She was under the impression he was Vmusic95 now – all because he wanted to so desperately keep his Golden identity private. Was lying to the girl he had been growing feelings for worth it? Was his grade in the class worth it? Y/N wouldn’t tell a soul if she knew he was Golden. He was positive as she hasn’t even mentioned him ‘being’ Vmusic95 in the past two hours they’ve been lounging around.

         “Okay? Jungkook, these are exceptional! Do you need glasses,” Y/N grinned over at the reddened man. After noticing his blushing face, her own turned a light pink as she cleared her throat.

         “Eh,” He shrugged as he watched her flip to the next page. Her lips were slightly parted in awe as she traced her fingers along the lines of the drawing. She was so beautiful, Jungkook thought.

         “I’d like to make a request!” She said suddenly as she closed the notebook shut. Jungkook arched a brow as he watched her stand up from his desk, stretching.

         “That is?”

         “I want to be your first client when you become a tattoo artist!” She grinned widely at him. Jungkook’s eyes widened at her words.

         “Seriously?” He blinked in disbelief.

         “Seriously! I want my first tattoo designed and done by you! So that means we have to be friends for a very long time, okay?” She said the last part shyly, her eyes glancing away from his staring ones and onto the beige carpet beneath her.

You are the cause of my euphoria…

         “It’s a promise…”

   ~!~

         Your eyes snapped open as you heard the creak of your dorm room door open. The hall light briefly flooded the darkened room before the intruder silently closed it. The creaking of the floor gave away to someone moving around the room, specifically, on Chloe’s side of the room. Immediately coming to your senses, you leapt up from your bed and turned on the desk lamp beside your bed. Your eyes wandered to where the person was only to discover Chloe, bookbag hanging on one shoulder and one foot in midair to make the next tiptoe move. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at you with widened eyes. You easily returned the look to her. This was your first time seeing her since last week.

         “I… uh… I’m getting some more clothes so go back to sleep. Sorry to disturb you,” She said awkwardly as she dropped her foot finally and began to rummage through her drawer.

         “Chloe,” you groaned as you got up from your bed and began to make your way over to her.

         “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it… especially at four in the morning…” Chloe let out a sigh as she continued to search through her things. She pulled out a polka dot bra and shoved it into her bookbag before returning to her dresser.

         “Just listen, can we talk?”

         “About?” She asked as she suddenly stood up and frowned at you.

         “Namjoon…“

         Chloe immediately rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. “There’s nothing to talk about that involves him. He knows I like him. Whatever.”

           “Chloe, can you just listen!?” You pleaded as you made your way over to her. She only took a step back.

         “Fine! You wanna talk?! Let’s talk! I’ll go first. Let’s talk about how fucking dense you are! Wanna know the real reason I’m pissed at you? I don’t give two shits that Namjoon knows about my feelings or my blog. I don’t care if you told him or someone else. I’m pissed because of how fucking dense you are. That the man you clearly like is right under your nose and you’re acting as if you’re blind! You would rather be with someone you’re not fitted for and you know you’re not fitted for but just because of some stupid ass blog, you’re willing to be with this guy! Y/N, God, I’ve never been so pissed at you! This is about you and my patience running out!”

         You blinked at Chloe in shock as you watched her breathe heavily and face red with anger. She was visibly shaking. She wasn’t mad about Namjoon… but you?

         “Chloe, I… look… about Tae-”

         “Jeon Jungkook! Jungkook! My God, you like him! Wake up! Why can’t you see that? Stop obsessing over Taehyung. Jungkook is Go-“

         “Why are ya’ll so loud at 4am?” Jackson said as he pounded on your dorm room door, startling both Chloe and you. “I was awakened from my beauty sleep by several angry texts from the other residents.”

         Chloe bit the inside of her cheek as she stomped over to the door and opened it, greeting Jackson with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Jackson.”

         “What’s going on? What’s with the early morning catfight?” Jackson arched a brow as he looked past Chloe and at you. You gave him an embarrassed grin as you rubbed the back of your neck nervously. You’ve never had been confronted by Jackson before besides his weekly ‘Why didn’t you attend the mandatory – not really – floor meeting?’ Jackson was a chill RA so when he came knocking, it was serious. Were you and Chloe – mostly Chloe – that loud?

         “Nothing, I was just leaving,” Chloe said as she walked away from the door and grabbed her bookbag that she had dropped when talking – yelling – at you.

         “Oh no you’re not,” Jackson said as he stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him. “I call an emergency hall meeting for the following rooms-“

         You and Chloe let out simultaneous groan as Jackson sent a quick glare for cutting him off.

         “Room 509, you are to report downstairs in the loft in 10 minutes to discuss your problems like adults. Are there any other parties involved?”

         “No-“

         “Park Jimin, room 603,” You quickly cut Chloe off as you knew Jimin knew of the situation as well. Besides, Jackson was great and all but Jimin could probably keep the calm between Chloe and you in case anything popped off.

         “Alright, see ya’ll in 10,” Jackson said as he exited the room. Your eyes glanced over at Chloe as she ran a hand through her hair. Sighing, she tossed her bookbag on her bed and headed towards the bathroom, loudly slamming the door behind her. Letting out a sigh as well, you walked back over to your bed and slipped on your bedroom slippers. This was going to get solved tonight. Whether you – or Chloe – liked it or not.

~

         “It is 4am. Why am I here?” Jimin frowned as he sat in between you and Chloe on the sofa in the dorm’s lounge. Jackson perched himself on a fold-up chair in front of the couch, shifting his eyes between the three of you.

         “Ah, yes, welcome to the floor meeting, Park Jimin-“

         “You’re not even the RA for my floor!” Jimin cut Jackson off only to earn a glare from the senior.

         “Doesn’t matter. I’m a professional problem solver and there’s a problem between you and the residents on my floor.”

         “Oh my God,” Chloe groaned as she let her head fall back onto the couch.

         “What’s this all about?” Jimin asked as he shifted his eyes over to you. You just folded your arms in response.

         “It’s about Golden. What else?” Chloe said as she began to rub her temples from the oncoming headache she was getting.

         “Golden? As in that famous blog that’s been going around campus?” Jackson arched a brow. “Don’t tell me, you two have a crush on whoever the hell Golden is and you’re fighting over him?”

         “No,” Chloe said as she sat up. “I don’t have romantic feelings towards Golden. It’s Y/N who does but she’s so fu-“

         “Chloe,” Jimin said in a warning voice as he bumped his leg into hers to shut her up. She just frowned at him before scooting slightly away from him.

         “Chloe is also mad because Namjoon knows she likes him…”

         “You like Namjoon?” Jimin’s mouth fell open as he looked to the blonde-haired girl beside him. She just rolled her eyes.

         “Wait? Namjoon? As in my best friend Namjoon?” Jackson’s eyes widened. “Damn, for how long? I could’ve hooked you guys up!”

         “No need for that now,” Chloe groaned. “Can we hurry and get this group therapy session over with so I can sleep before CW?”

         “Right, so… first let’s, uh, talk about feelings? Chloe, since you seem to be the most irritated, why don’t you go first?”

         “Right,” Chloe nodded her head as she suddenly stood up. Everyone’s eyes watched as she stood in the center of you guys and immediately her brown eyes met yours. You searched her eyes momentarily and could see the frustration and hurt in them but you also could see how she wanted to end this fight. However, before you could read more into it, she looked away.

         “It all started earlier this year with that damn Golden blog. Long story short, Y/N fell head over heels for Golden but she thinks Golden is this dude who she has nothing in common with but because he’s Golden to her, she’s willing to deny her true feelings and be with him.”

         “Are you talking about Taehyung?” Jimin asked as he looked over to you. You just nodded your head.

         “I thought you two hit it off on the date? That’s what he told me…” Jimin said as he scratched his head in confusion. “Do you like him because he likes you…”

         “You actually went on that date with him!?” Chloe’s eyes grew wide as she snapped her attention back to you. Meanwhile, Jackson’s eyes shifted back and forth from whoever was talking, confused as to what everyone was talking about. Clearly, this was more a difficult situation than what he’d originally thought.

         “I did! And if you would’ve given me a chance to explain in the dorm before this whole nonsense then you’d know-“

         “I can’t believe you went out with him after I’ve hinted to you who Golden really is! Taehyung isn’t the one for you, Y/N, open you dam-“

         “You told her who Golden is!?” Jimin asked Chloe in shock. They agreed to keep it a secret, he thought.

         “Wait, you both know the identity of the secret blogger dude?” Jackson asked.

         “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that Y/N is making herself miserable by only basing her feelings for a guy based off a blog! I’m tired of helping her-“

         “That’s the thing, Chloe!” You stood up in anger, tired of all the confusion and unanswered questions being thrown around. “No one asked for your help! I never asked you to help me find Golden! Not even once! Do you know what my plan was? I was going to secretly like him and then, just as the other girls in our class and at our university, reveal to him that I liked him after he revealed himself! That’s been my plan all along! I never wanted this! I never wanted to be noticed by him! I never wanted to receive anonymous hate mail from random ass people on my blog! I just wanted to like him in peace and now look what this is causing! You and I are fighting. Jimin is being dragged into this-“

         “And Jackson,” Jackson cut you off only to get sent a glare from the three of you. “Sorry, continue…”

         “This is all dumb! You know what,” You said, frustration fully taking over your body. You took out your phone and opened your blogging app. Without hesitation, you deleted your blog along with the app and shoved it back into your pocket. “It’s done! It’s over! I’ve deleted my blog. I have too much on my plate to care about a mysterious guy or Taehyung or whoever the fuck it is. I’m over it.”

         With that, you excused yourself from the lounge and headed back to your room. Taking out your phone again, you gripped it as one person who constantly brought you peace as of late flashed through your mind. You stopped walking as you thumbed over his name. It was nearing 5am. Would he be up?

~

         “Remember…” Jungkook cleared his throat as he tried to focus on matching his voice with the sound of the guitar he strummed. “Remember the way you made me feel…”

         “Aren’t you doing the most to reveal yourself?” Yoongi asked he stopped the recording. Jungkook had contacted his older friend around 4am – he knew Yoongi would be working in the studio as he usually did at this hour – and asked if it was possible for him to record something for his creative writing class. Yoongi immediately knew it was for part of his ‘big reveal.’ What Yoongi didn’t understand was how playing this song to his class would reveal who Jungkook was to them. However, Jungkook had other plans. Granted, not everyone would recognize the song that would be played over the speakers in the auditorium-like classroom, but, he knew someone would and that’s all that mattered to him.

         “No. Let’s just take it from the top – hold on – someone just texted me,” Jungkook said as he sat his guitar down to grab his phone.

         Yoongi rolled his eyes as he turned away from the recording equipment. He could’ve been working on one of the songs he’d written yet here he was assisting his friend. Maybe it’d all work out in the end… for everyone.

         “Hey, so I gotta go. Can we try again later?” Jungkook said as he exited from the recording booth.

         Yoongi just arched a brow. “Where do you have to go at nearly 5 in the morning?”

         “A friend needs me…” At the mention of this, a smirk became present on Yoongi’s face.

         “A friend, huh?”

         Jungkook’s face flushed red as he ruffled his hair and bid Yoongi a farewell, taking his guitar and other items along with him.

         “Yah! Just be sure to finish recording soon! Your ‘big reveal’ is in two weeks, you know!”

~!~

         You jumped slightly as a cup of hot cocoa was held in front of you. You were sitting on one of the benches outside Jungkook’s dorm room. Since classes had resumed and everyone returned to campus, you could no longer sneak into his dorm. The sun had yet begun to rise so the coldness of the winter air hit you at full force. You sort of hated yourself for walking here in only your pajamas and a light jacket but you were so heated from the mini “meeting” that you just had to get away.

         “Thanks…” You smiled gently as you took the cup from the man who stood in front of you. The warmth of the cup sent a shiver through your body.

         “No problem,” Jungkook said as he took a seat beside you. It was silent between the two of you as you took small sips of your drink and looked at the ground below you. “Do you wanna talk…?”

         “Mh, not really…” You let out a heavy sigh. Jungkook nodded at your response. Letting out a sigh and watching your breath form into a cloud of frost before you, you turned your attention to Jungkook as his teeth seemed to be chattering from the cold. He was looking forward at the emptiness of the sidewalks before feeling your gaze on him. Curious, he turned to face you and let out a chuckle.

         “What?” You said as you blinked.

         “Your nose is red.”

         “Well, it’s freezing. And you’re shivering! Here,” You shoved the cup of cocoa in his hands so he could feel at least some warmth.

         “No thanks, I got that for you. I’m fine…” Jungkook blushed slightly.

         “No, you’re not! Your face just turned-“ You stopped talking as you realized he was probably blushing from your sudden movement. Jungkook had grown comfortable around you over the weekend but there were still times he became shy. Sighing, you scooted closer to Jungkook so that your arms were touching. There was no need for you to freeze to death. You fiddled with your thumbs as you felt him stiffen beside you. Had you gone too far?

         However, this thought immediately left as you felt Jungkook shift beside you before feeling an arm wrap around you. This time, it was your turn to tense up as you turned to see his arm around you, hugging you slightly closer to him. A blush creeped up your neck to your checks. As you didn’t react to his sudden – bold as hell, may you mention – move, you felt him slowly retrieving his arm back.

  ��      “It’s fine,” Was all you said as you stopped his arm from moving and repositioned it around you. You took this time to let your head fall on his shoulder as you closed your eyes. Your heart was beating intensely from the proximity of being near Jungkook. Hell, even at 5 in the morning, he smelled of faint men’s cologne and clean laundry. “Chloe and I are in a fight…”

         “About…?” Jungkook cleared his throat as his voice shook a little. Were you making him as nervous as he made you?

         “The usual… Golden…” You let out a sigh. “She thinks Golden is someone else… but I think, no, I know it’s Taehyung. I can’t wait until finals so Golden can reveal who he is and this stress won’t be on me anymore…

         “Golden stresses you out…?”

         “Yes!” You lifted your head and looked at the man. “So much! I really can’t stand him anymore! He used to bring me such comfort and now it’s nothing but pain and stress! You know, I was gonna tell him I liked him… Taehyung, Golden, whatever! Head over heels, practically in love with him on the last day of class! Just like every other girl! And he’d ignore me because who am I but some confused dancer? But then he didn’t ignore me! He added me back on the blog, talked to me daily, introduced me to Vmusic95 – you­ – caused anons to send me numerous hate mail, and other things! But what’s worse is, he’s not who I think he is! He’s different from real life than he is online and that breaks me because while I love the guy he portrays to be online, the guy in real life, honestly, disappoints me.”

         “Oh,” Jungkook seemed to have said in a saddened tone. Your eyes lit up as you thought that you mentioning how he was Vmusic95 and connecting it negatively to Golden meant that you were upset with him as well.

         “I mean knowing that Vmusic95 is you is great! I’m glad he caused us to meet because you’re an amazing friend and…” You let out a heavy sigh as you saw your reassuring words were getting nowhere with the younger man. “Anyway… I deleted my blog.”

         “You what?!” Jungkook said in disbelief, removing his arm from around you and facing you fully. You shivered slightly as the warmth of his arm left you.

         “Yeah… that’s the only way out of this mess. I’ll just explain to our professor what happened, maybe she’ll understand…” You shrugged.

         “But Y/N, this could mess up your grade, couldn’t it? Golden… he’s… not that big of a deal to throw your grade away.”

         You simply shrugged at his words. “I want everything to go away. I want my best friend back, I want the hate to stop, but mostly,” You looked over at Jungkook with tears forming in your eyes. “I want my feelings to go away for Golden and if this is how I can remove him from my life, then I will.”

         “But-“

         You sniffed back your tears as your phone’s alarm began going off. Was it 6am already? Did you really sit out in the cold with Jungkook for an hour? Laughing bitterly to yourself, you stood up and looked down at Jungkook who only looked up at you with concerned eyes. A sudden feeling of boldness coming over you – and an urge that you seemingly couldn’t resist – you leaned down and pressed a small kiss on the boy’s cheek. His eyes immediately widened at your action as you pulled away.

         “Thank you for staying in the cold with me for an hour, ha. You’re a great friend. I’ll see you in class,” You avoided his staring gaze and quickly walked off. What came over you suddenly to kiss him? Was that considered a kiss? It was just a friendly peck on the cheek, right? If that’s all it was, then why did it feel like your heart was swan diving into your stomach?

~

         You ran your fingers through your hair as you returned to your dorm to get ready for CW. The time you spent with Jungkook just a few minutes ago kept running through your mind and making your heart do leaps in your chest. It got you thinking that Chloe may be right… maybe you did have feelings for Jungkook? But that couldn’t be it, right? You kissed Jimin on his cheek all the time, though, it never made your heart beat so intensely when you did it with him. Sighing, you unlocked the door to your dorm and removed your shoes at the doorway. As you looked up, you found Chloe sitting on her bed, staring dead at you.

         “Y/N…” She said slowly.

         “Chloe,” You responded in the same tone. Not really in the mood for more drama after being calmed slightly by Jungkook, you walked past her and over to your side of the room to find something to wear today.

         Chloe’s eyes followed your movement around the room. Getting fed up with the silence, she stood up and walked briskly over to your bed before plopping down on it. You turned in her direction and arched a confused brow at her.

         “Listen,” She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry I blew up at you…”

         You blinked at her sudden apology. Was this real? Was this the stubborn Chloe you had known since high school apologizing to you? The same Chloe who hated to admit when she was wrong and would rather die than apologize?

         “Go on…” You said as you motioned your hand for her to continue. She looked at your hand before rolling her eyes as she fought of a smirk.

         “I’m sorry I called you dense, though you are, and for blaming you as to why Namjoon knew about my blog. I didn’t delete it, by the way, I just blocked you.”

         “I figured as much,” You shrugged as you plopped down on the bed beside her. “I’m sorry for yelling at you as well… and that Namjoon found out about your blog. I didn’t tell him about it.”

         “Oh?” Chloe’s eyes widened in shock before turning into in a glare. “Was it Park?”

         “Jimin doesn’t even know about your blog,” You laughed slightly. “Namjoon said it was Seulgi.”

         “Of course, it was! That’s why karma is gonna bite her in the ass when she finds out who Golden really is!” Chloe punched the palm of her left hand with the fist she formed with the right one. Meanwhile, your heart stopped at the mention of Golden.

         “Speaking of Golden…” You let out a heavy sigh. “You know who he is, right?”

         Chloe’s postured softened as she looked at you seriously. Her brown eyes searched yours before slowly nodding her head. “I’ve talked to him… in person.”

         “You what?!” You said in disbelief. She’s met up with Taehyung and didn’t even tell you? Well, why would she tell you if you guys had been in a fight? It was just like you haven’t told her you’ve grown closer to Jungkook as of late

         “Look before you get angry again, let me explain!” Chloe said. Immediately she began to explain how she’s been onto who Golden was for the past month or so and how she had been posing as an anon on his blog trying to get info out of him. Of course, you already knew about this as it was obvious NJsC stood for Namjoon’s Chloe. What you didn’t know, however, was that Chloe knew about Golden’s real identity since the party in October – a little over a month. She also explained how Jimin was involved because she told him accidentally while practicing telling you.

         “So, you weren’t straddling him that one day?” You smirked at her causing the girl to blush.

         “N-no! You know I don’t like Jimin in that way!” She glared at you. You simply let out a laugh.

         “Well… you don’t have to worry about Golden anymore… I’ve decided to give up on him…”

         “What?!” She shouted as she shot up from your bed. “Why? What happened?!”

         “Nothing, nothing. Taehyung and I… we just don’t connect. He’s nothing like he is online… and it annoys me because I wanted to like him so badly…”

         “But-“

         “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve deleted my blog-“

         “You what?! Y/N, your grade-“

         “I’ll be fine! I’ll think of a way to make up for it…”

         “In two weeks?”

         “I’ll think of something,” You let out a deep sigh. There goes your straight ‘A’ streak, but hey, you needed this for your mental health. This blog nonsense and Golden were interfering with your personal life and you hated it, honestly. “Enough about Golden… let’s catch up. I’ve missed you.”

         “We need to talk about Golden! Especially now you’ve deleted your blog and decided Taehyung-“

         “Chloe,” You groaned as you stood up. “Just stop. I want to move on.”

         “But…”

         You shut her up as you wrapped your arms around your best friend, embracing her in a hug. She stood in shock before slowly returning the hug.

         “I’ve missed you… you wouldn’t believe who I hung out with during the break!” You laughed slightly as memories of a certain freshman flashed through your mind. “I really like Jungkook…”

         You paused as the words slipped from your lips while you felt Chloe tense up. Did you just admit you liked Jungkook? You meant it in a friend way, of course. There weren’t any romantic feelings tied to him. You jumped slightly as you felt Chloe let out a chuckle and gently pat your back.

         “My dear, stupid, dense, best friend Y/N,” You attempted to pull away as Chloe undermined you with each word she said. However, she held her grip on you, preventing you from escaping. Softly, she whispered in your ear, “Did you know that you just admitted you like Golden just now?”

         This time, you broke free from her grip and arched a brow at her. She laughed slightly as she studied your confused expression.

         “I clearly just said I gave up on Taehyung?”

         “Yeah, you gave up on Vmusic95.”

         What was she talking about? Jungkook was Vmusic95 – wait…

         “Did you know what Jimin told me yesterday? V was Taehyung’s nickname in high school… that and he was born in 1995, duh…” Chloe hummed the words out as she went back to her side of the room nonchalantly. You felt your heart begin to speed up as you started putting the pieces together. Chloe smirked at you as she saw your face turning pink.

         “B-but Jungkook… he told me he was…?”

         “Told you what? That he was the other blog?” Chloe doubled over in laughter before looking up with you a straight face. Meanwhile, it felt like the room was spinning. Jungkook was… was Jungkook...

         “I’m only saying this once so listen carefully,” Chloe walked over to you and placed her hands on your shoulders. A smile came upon her lips as she whispered:

         “Jeon Jungkook is Golden.”

[sukepami]

It lingered in the air, Vasilisa thought, the feeling that something terrible was set to happen soon. It was a bad omen, a wind of change, the slightly cruel notion that sliced through her every time she thought things were starting to get better. She had felt the swiftest ripple a second before setting everything on fire, just a night ago, when she had mashed her mouth against Benjamin’s in what seemed to be an innocent New Year’s kiss, but that it was due to become her worst nightmare. Because now, Vasya knew. She could never go on again without having another taste. That was the reason why she had pushed him away for so long: she knew herself way too well to not understand the fatality of their alignment, body and soul wise. 

After one perfect Saturday afternoon in the company of her model, one that the Russian girl had tried to prevent from happening dozens of times, she felt yet again the bittersweet flavor that flooded her mouth, the sense that something catastrophical was due to happen soon. Lissa wished she could have frozen that beautiful moment with Ben, for she knew things were about to change; they had shared stories about each other, ping ponged over sweet coffee, plain black coffee and those damned liquor chocolates. The sugary relief of a few hours in Hong’s company, however, was not enough to make her forget about what came after. The inevitable faceoff. Something that Vasya had done plenty of times, but that now felt wrong in a thousand different ways. 

 As soon as she said goodbye to Venya, with the excuse that she had a rather important appointment in town, Lissa set off to her professor’s apartment, not far from there, the address imprinted on her mind after taking that route so many times along those three years. Every two or three weekends of her months were reserved to meeting him, shutting off from the rest of the world and embracing the demons she tried so hard to hide. That was how she chose to atone for her sins; by doing worse. By leaving that place feeling so guilty, so stained for eternity, that no other man or woman would ever look at her twice. But her model kept doing so — she just wished he didn’t stop after learning the inevitable truth.

Something seemed off that night. Vasilisa knew that the moment she set foot inside the man’s spacious loft, the walls adorned by paintings, many inspired by her. And there, at the center of the room, his last work; the gigantic and almost complete depiction of herself, adorned in shadows, the only recognizable thing being her peculiar butterfly tattoo. Opposite to how he had always greeted her, that time, her professor stood in a corner, a bottle of whatever expensive liquor hanging from his talented fingers. He questioned her about what she had done on her New Year’s Eve. By then, she knew there was no turning back, no possible way of lying about that. Vasya told him about the kiss and about how she had broken their deal by giving in to someone else; she had never swore herself to him, but the man had no idea about that. The sweet, devious smile that she wore like a crown while she recounted that night was probably what had set off the screaming, too. 

Deep down, the Russian girl was just insanely tired. She was tired of keeping up the pretense, of never being able to open up to anyone because of the implications of it. She wanted it to end; she wanted to be the object of desire of so many, but the consequences were too big for her to keep going. As her professor talked her ears off about how she had ruined everything, proffering his undying love to her as she boredly pretended to care, Vasilisa understood how she could never belong there, even if it broke her heart. She had relentlessly pursued that exact state, all those paintings hanging on his walls; she was more than a mere artist. She was an inspiration. The righteous muse. But Vasya wanted to live, more than anything. For muses led short lives and were puppets of their masters, never a thing to feel. And as soon as she had her share of all the blabbering and raving of her drunk professor, in a fit of rage, she ripped the canvas from its support, covered it with a sheet, and took off to nowhere, just to get away from him. But not before stealing one of his finest bottles of vodka as well. 

She soon realised where her running had taken her. As she stared at the massive penthouse door, a place so unfamiliar yet so drawing, Vasya understood that that was supposed to be what she had done all along; to purge the dirt and the shame by ripping off the bandage once and for all. Drunk and stumbling, she barged inside Benjamin’s enormous, opulent home before he even had the time to question her about what the hell was happening. The Russian girl took a generous swig of the numbing alcohol as she sent it rolling down the floor, hastily taking off the sheet that covered the gigantic canvas; the one she had posed to for so many sleepless nights, high off her mind while her teacher had stared at her with a hunger she had only seen in someone else’s eyes. And his didn’t even need to see her body without her clothes.

Nevertheless, Lissa stood in front of her model, angry tears rolling down her cheeks as her limbs shook from the cold, the amount of vodka she had drunk and pure, terrible tiredness. “You told me you wanted to know everything about me,” her voice dragged out hoarsely, almost whispering. That wasn’t even the hardest part. Vasya quickly discarded her heavy coat and her top before intently staring at Hong, her delicate bra following the same path of the rumbled pieces on the ground. There, so curiously placed, on the fair skin of one of her breasts. So intricately designed. A wilting butterfly. “This is what I meant when I said it was about to get ugly real quick, Venya.” She pointed at the canvas and then at herself. It wasn’t hard to piece everything together.

[rufousnmacska]

final (nsfw!) part of this little modern manorian au

(also now on ao3)

Dorian scanned the room for Manon but he didn’t see her. The reception hall was a mass of people trying to find their seats, drop off gifts, ohh and ahh over the cake. Chaol clapped him on the back and pushed him towards their table.

He and Manon had spent the entire ceremony staring at each other like lovesick teenagers. He hoped she wasn’t catching hell for missing her cues to hold Asterin’s bouquet and arrange her dress. It wasn’t a big deal, and neither the bride nor groom seemed to care. But Asterin’s mom was a hardass, running this wedding like a movie production.

Finally. He caught sight of her heading quickly to the long bridal party table. Apparently she’d been busy after the photos had been taken. She still had the ugly dress on of course, but she’d removed the makeup and rearranged her hair into a simple braid. Although he liked this look better, he couldn’t hold in a laugh as he thought, She’s pushing the envelope. Monster of the bride is gonna be pissed.

He sat next to Chaol at the very end of the table, about as far from her as he could get. But she looked for him before sitting, flashing him an incredible smile when their eyes met.

He was done. There was no moving on from this.

All through the tedious dinner he sat quietly, thinking about what might come next. Assuming she even wanted a next. This is absurd, he thought. I’ve known her for two days.

Chaol nudged him and said, “So when are you moving here?”

Dorian’s brows creased in confusion. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I know exactly what you’re thinking. ‘How long do we have to wait before we move in together so people don’t think it’s weird.’ No less than a month. That might even be too soon.”

“Jesus Chaol! We haven’t even kissed.”

Chaol laughed and used his bro voice. “You better get on that dude!”

“I’m serious,” Dorian said. “We’ve known each other for a couple of days. You’re jumping the gun.”

“I don’t think I am,” he replied. “I know you. And I’ve never seen you like this. I’m betting Asterin has never seen Manon like this either.” He held up a hand to shut Dorian up before he could interrupt. “I’m not saying you need to run off tonight and elope. But don’t let stupid shit like where you live, or what your parents might think get in the way of this.”

Dorian hadn’t even thought about how his parents would react to her. A struggling artist. Living in Portland. Surrounded by a loud, chaotic family. He looked down the table to find Manon watching him. She gave him a you ok? look. He nodded, pointed to her, then himself, and mimed them dancing. She laughed and got pulled away by a cousin.

He realized that not considering his parents’ opinions was a pretty good sign that he didn’t give a shit what they thought.

“I’ll hold off on the ‘I told you so’ until you two get married,” Chaol said.

Dorian shook his head. But he couldn’t help thinking that would be the first time he’d love hearing those words.

“Oh shit Connall, I’m sorry!” She flung her heels off towards their table.

He laughed as she stepped on his feet again. “You’re distracted Manon. It’s ok. I would be too if Dorian was looking at me like that.”

Just like during the ceremony, their gazes were locked on each other. But as they were now being forced to dance with their bridal party partner, it made for some painful missteps.

Manon didn’t know where her aunt had found whatever hardcore wedding guide she was working from, but she hoped it was out of print. Moira had gone ballistic when she saw Manon with a clean face and unsprayed hair. She was probably pissed that the maid of honor was now barefoot.

She didn’t care though. The photos were done. If she ever became a well known artist, she’d regret having that crap on the internet. But she wasn’t going to worry about it now.

“This… song… is… allllmooost… There. It’s done. You’re free to go,” Connall said, flicking her long braid.

She smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. “You’re free too. Go find Sam.”

The instant he walked away, Dorian was there to sweep her into his arms.

“I haven’t had a chance to tell you how nice you look today Mercedes,” she teased.

As he led her around the edge of the dance floor, he feigned offense. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got? I’ll have you know Trooper, I’m wearing the hell out of this rented tux.”

Once their laughter died down, they both seemed to realize at the same time that they’d never been this close before. Heat sprang up between them, and Manon smiled. Before she could say anything, she stepped on his foot.

“Apparently, I can no longer dance,” she said.

“Here.” Dorian stopped, then pulled her close, guiding her bare feet onto his shoes. “Is this better?”

Manon wasn’t sure if she could breathe as they were now inches apart. She managed though, and his scent filled her. It reminded her of the mountains where she loved to hike. Fresh, chilled air. Verdant, green trees.

“Much better,” she whispered.

They danced like that for hours. His hand sliding up and down her back, hers moving from his chest to his arm and back again. Talking, laughing, ignoring whatever music was playing to make slow circles in their corner of the floor. They hadn’t even noticed the ring of kids who formed around them for the chicken dance until it was almost over.

As the room began to empty, Manon was finally pulled away to help gather some of Asterin’s things. She gestured for him to wait for her, though she didn’t think he was going anywhere.

Once everything was settled and Asterin and Fenrys had left for their apartment, Manon found her shoes and made her way to where Dorian was waiting. She’d never been one for the high class preppy look. But seeing him in his disheveled tux, jacket thrown over his shoulder, messy dark hair… And the way he was looking at her.

I am done, she thought. No. Decided. She’d decided.

Without a word, she took his hand and led him out to the parking lot. Her car was closer so they ended up there.

"So what do you have going on tomorrow,” Dorian asked? His face and voice had an edge of nerves, like he was worried that with the end of the reception would come a final goodbye.

Manon played with his loose bow tie. “After waking up next to you, I didn’t have anything planned.”

His mouth parted and she watched his brilliant blue eyes darken. Watched him close the space between them.

His thumb grazed her lower lip as he said, “So I could keep you in bed all day.”

She grasped his shirt and pulled until his mouth was almost touching hers. “Actually I don’t have any plans until Thurs-”

Before she could finish the word he was kissing her. Soft and easy, a flick of his tongue, a brush of her teeth. When their lips parted and she tasted him, her only thought was Finally.

Their hands ran over each other’s body, through each other’s hair. Slowly at first but becoming harder and more urgent as the kiss went on and on.

Minutes or hours later, Dorian pulled away and rested his forehead on hers. Breathlessly he said, “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you.”

“Why are you stopping then?”

His laugh was low and his voice rough as he said, “Because I’m not going to fuck you in a car.” Dipping his head, he not-so-gently bit her earlobe. “At least not yet.”

“Fuck,” Manon exhaled. She was about to argue with him when she heard car doors closing nearby. He was right. This wasn’t the place.

She dragged herself away from him and nodded towards her car. “Get in.”

Thank god Manon lived nearby. Even the ten minute drive felt like forever. She parked in front of a large warehouse and he followed her in, assuming she had a loft space and studio inside. He was right, and became momentarily distracted by her work.

“This is amazing,” he mumbled, only able to make out some of the shapes from the street lights filtering in from outside. Clay sculptures of stylized animals were scattered around the room. Some with flowers for fur or trees growing from them, others chimerical mixtures of different animals. All waiting to be cast and forged into metal.

Grabbing his hand and pulling him through the large, open room, Manon said, “You can see it tomorrow.” Then quickly added, “Or, the next day.”

Dorian let her lead the way.

The instant they were in her living space, she turned and had him pushed up against a wall. As badly as he wanted her, he held her away. He wanted them to take their time.

But she pushed through his hold to take his bottom lip between her teeth. Dorian groaned and his head fell into the wall. When she was done nibbling, she whispered, “We have time. All the time we want.”

Manon stepped away and walked him to her bedroom.

As she moved to tear the dress off, not so much in urgency as in hate for the damn thing, Dorian rushed to stop her.

“Wait! You can’t ruin such a wonderful reminder of this weekend,” he said with a grin. “We should get it preserved somehow.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but her expression changed when he walked around to stand behind her.

Moving her braid aside, he bent and ran kisses down her neck. She shivered, and he continued slowly down her spine while he unzipped the dress. It still clung to her shoulders as he kissed his way back up. His hands followed his lips then slid around under the fabric to cup her breasts. Manon moaned and arched into him, grinding her ass against him.

“God Manon,” he breathed. They’d barely started and he was already losing control.

As if sensing it, she turned and stepped back. She shrugged one shoulder, then the other, and just like that, the dress was pooled at her feet. Dorian’s eyes roamed all over her, lingering on how her full breasts spilled out from her bra. How her panties were slung low on her hips.

He mumbled something about the dress looking better on the floor. A dumb line, but it was true. And who the hell knew if he’d said it out loud or not.

Her smile was wicked as she moved towards him and said, “My turn.”

He just stood there watching her eyes, her hands, her lips as she pulled the bow tie free and began to unbutton his shirt. She kept her golden eyes on his until she was able to slide his shirt off. Then she took some time to admire him, running her hands over his chest, pausing at each nipple, making him gasp.

“You looked so fucking hot tonight,” she said. “You still do.”

Manon’s fingers reached his zipper. She crouched down slowly as she undid it and pulled his pants down. The whole time, her eyes never left his. Even when she rose, going slower, making sure to rub herself against all of him on her way back up.

He kicked the pants off, and that seemed to be the turning point for both of them. They collided in a kiss, Manon losing her hands in his hair, Dorian lifting her up by her ass. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, already moving her hips. He spun, hoping he was headed for the bed.

Finding it with his shin, he swore but managed to keep them upright. For about five seconds. Then, he was on his back and she was writhing on top of him. 

Underwear somehow removed and tossed aside, they rolled around, kissing, rubbing, licking, biting… until they were both driven mad.

Dorian broke first, groaning out a plea. “Fuck. I want to be inside you Manon. Please…”

“Such good manners,” she rasped into his ear. Her tongue followed her words, leaving him shuddering from the touch. The distraction let her roll them over so she was on top of him again and could reach over to the bedside table for a condom.

She straddled his legs and he sat up to kiss her as they worked to get it on. When they were ready, she smiled against his mouth and then raised herself up. Breaking the kiss, he held her face close, watching her as she slid onto him.

Dorian’s eyelids fluttered and he gasped in air as he filled her. But she kept her eyes on his and didn’t breathe, letting all the sensations wash over her.

She began to roll her hips atop him. “You feel so good,” Manon moaned.

He laid back down, hugging her close as she continued to move. “I can’t get enough of you,” he said.

“That’s good,” she breathed, lifting her head to catch his eyes. “Because I don’t ever want you to.”

His hands gripped her hips and he took over, thrusting into her, eliciting moans, cries of his name, cries of hers. Until too soon, Manon was reaching the edge. She wanted to stay suspended in that moment. But she needed this release. Craved it from him.

Rising part of the way up, she pulsed up and down, faster, until he was deep inside, then almost out, rubbing her just the right way, over and over and

“Oh god Dorian,” she cried. “Oh fuck yes…”

Heat flooded through her as she contracted around him. He kept thrusting, pressing his fingers against her clit as she moved, prolonging her orgasm into something more intense than she’d ever experienced.

He followed before she could gather her breath, squeezing her ass into him as he came, repeating her name until he too ran out of air.

Manon collapsed on top of him and he held her close. They stayed that way for a long time. Exchanging quiet words of love - without saying the L word. And soft kisses and caresses - which conveyed the L word anyway. 

The next morning, she woke to Dorian brushing her hair off her cheek. “Good morning Trooper.”

She smiled brightly, a rare event considering she hated mornings. “Car nicknames huh?”

"Yup. That’s how we met right?” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m not giving you a nickname associated with that dress.”

She watched him for several moments. “I’m totally falling in love with you,” she said in quiet amazement.

Manon’s eyes grew wide at the word that had just come out of her mouth. Worried she would scare him off, she tried to think of something, anything else to say. But before she could, Dorian was kissing her. When he pulled back, he said, “I’ve already fallen.” Then with a cheeky look he asked, “Any chance you might want a roommate? In a month or so?”

Manon’s laugh rang through the loft only to be cut off by another kiss.

They knew it was fast, knew what others might say, but they also just… knew.

Several months later…

Nesryn ignored her phone. They were in the middle of a Harry Potter marathon and she was not going to be interrupted. Even if it was paused for Chaol to get more food.

But then his phone buzzed. And then both phones went crazy.

“What the hell,” she muttered, giving in to see what was going on.

Her messages were flooded with numbers she didn’t know. Based on the few names that showed up, she figured it was something to do with Dorian and Manon’s Antarctic trip celebrating her installation at Olympic Sculpture Park and his first book deal. When she got to the original message and opened it, she had to enlarge the photo to understand what she was seeing.

“Chaol! Get in here! You’re not gonna believe this.”

Chaol was already on his way back in, arms loaded with bags of chips and popcorn, a jar of salsa, and a few beers. “What? Did you start it without me?!”

Nesryn was laughing, all smiles. “No. Look at this!” She held up her phone. “Wait, put that stuff down first.” When he did, she handed it to him.

It took a few moments for the the image to sink in - Dorian and Manon, in a tux and dress, standing near a group of penguins, holding champagne.

Chaol threw his hands in the air and yelled. “Yes!! I told him so! And they eloped! I don’t have to be in another wedding!”