#fashion fund-raiser

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 12: The Greenhouse

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Dressed in a black dress, you arrived at the university event early, ensuring that everything was running smoothly. 

The hall was decorated beautifully, with fairy lights strung along the walls and fresh flowers adorning each tall table. The sound of soft music filled the air, creating a romantic atmosphere while waiters walked around, offering drinks and canapes. 

As guests trickled in, you scanned the crowd, searching for the people you knew. You spotted James and Lucy standing near the entrance, laughing and chatting with others. Just like Cillian and the chair of the UNESCO board in London, James was a guest speaker at the event and since you, amongst some other students, were organizing the fund raiser, you had to act professional and polite towards everyone attending.

Your gaze then wandered across the room again and, eventually, you spotted Cillian who was accompanied by his wife Danielle and Max. 

The sight of them sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you. You wanted to see Cillian yet dreaded the encounter. 

After ignoring his text message a couple of weeks ago, following your date with James, you knew that your encounter with him might be awkward and Danielle's presence didn't ease the situation either.

She looked stunning herself and, ever since she married Cillian, she never missed an opportunity to showcase her wealth and influence as, clearly, she enjoyed his celebrity status more than he did. 

Danielle dressed up like she owned the fashion industry, wearing a white dress. Her blonde hair was styled to perfection, cascading effortlessly down her shoulders, and she flaunted her 4,000-pound designer bag with pride.

Max too was dressed to impressed, wearing a black suit and a slim tie. 

He couldn't deny that he looked good, but there was a slight awkwardness to his demeanor, a shadow of pain lurking behind his confident façade. His gaze shifted discreetly to you, a small frown creasing his forehead before he turned his attention to the person beside him.

Cillian, on the other hand, gave you a knowing smile and you knew that, at the very least, you had to greet him and his wife.

So, mustering up your courage, you approached them, smiling awkwardly.

"Y/N," Danielle greeted you, extending her slender arm, offering her manicured hand. "It is so good to see you again," she said, her voice dripping with artificial warmth just like when you had visited Max's family home in Dublin some time ago. There was always something odd about her but you knew to remain polite nonetheless. 

"It's good to see you too, Mrs Murphy," you muttered, shaking her hand briefly before also greeting Cillian and Max with a friendly nod.

"Hey," Max greeted you casually, his gaze lingering on you longer than necessary.

"You look incredible!" he added bluntly, a playful grin spreading across his lips. That remark took you aback but you smiled anyway, hoping that no one noticed Max's comment.

"Thanks," you responded shyly, your cheeks burning red in embarrassment as you quickly moved away from him.

"And, how have you been Mr Murphy?" you asked Cillian politely without making direct eye contact, simply to avoid having to further engage in a conversation with Max. 

"Good, thank you," Cillian replied, his tone low and gravelly. "You?" he asked, his gaze flickering downwards, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

"I'm doing alright," you assured him, allowing the silence to stretch between you just before Danielle whisked her husband away, seeking an introduction to Professor Smith from the UNESCO board.

"It has been good to see you Y/N. I am glad you are doing okay," Cillian remarked coldly while casting a sideways glance at you. 

"You too," you nodded and watched him disappear into the throng of attendees as a strange mix of frustration and hope coursed through you, stirring up old memories and fantasies you had tried to suppress. 

Despite your apprehension towards engaging with Cillian again however, the event progressed rather smoothly, with various speakers sharing their experiences and insights on the importance of education and literacy. 

Cillian in particular delivered a moving speech about education and empathy, weaving together personal anecdotes, and compelling statistics that brought the audience to think of the importance of being kind to one another.

"Oh god, this is getting so old," Max murmured, standing next to you while listening to his father speak. "Didn't he say this stuff a million times before?" he asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes.

"Well, for what it is worth, I think your dad's speech is quite good and articulate," you defended Cillian, unable to help yourself despite Max's cynicism.

"Yeah, but I have heard it a hundred times before," Max countered, crossing his arms defensively.

"Fair enough," you shrugged your shoulders. "But, nevertheless, it is still relevant, isn't it?" you reasoned, raising your eyebrows. "Empathy in an education setting is important, especially nowadays, in the age of social media," you argued, catching Max's attention.

"When did you become a fucking expert on social issues like this?" Max retorted, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I mean, I'm not an expert, but I know a thing or two about it," you responded coolly, turning to look at the stage where Cillian was wrapping up his speech. "I see many patients in hospital who inflicted harm upon themselves because of bullying. It is a big issue," you told Max as Cillian ended his presentation with a powerful call to action, urging everyone present to make a difference in the lives of others.

The room erupted in applause, and Cillian graciously acknowledged the support.

As the crowd dispersed, you caught him glancing at you from the speaker's podium. The intensity behind his eyes held a peculiar mixture of warmth and longing, which caused a tremble of anticipation to ripple through your entire body. With every beat of your pulse, you became increasingly drawn to this man again and, feeling increasingly overwhelmed by your emotions, you decided to step outside for some fresh air, hoping to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes, letting the gentle breeze brush against your face for just a moment as, suddenly, you heard some footsteps.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Cillian approaching you with a questioning expression on his face.

"Need some fresh air?" he asked with a gentle smile, causing you to nod.

"Sometimes, the noise indoors gets overwhelming, doesn't it?" he continued, gesturing towards the open door. "Makes you want to retreat somewhere quiet," he added, a knowing spark lighting up his ice-blue eyes.

"Yes, exactly," you echoed, grateful for the understanding in his words.

You glanced back inside the room to check if anyone else had joined you outside. When you realized that nobody was paying attention to you and Cillian, you let out a sigh of relief.

The moment felt heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow on the grounds. As the wind rustled through the trees, sending whispers of leaves dancing, you could feel Cillian's gaze on you. His proximity stirred a flutter in your chest, and you found yourself lost in his ice-blue eyes.

"You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" you said, finally breaking the silence.

"Enjoyed what?" he asked, puzzled by what you meant.

"Giving that speech," you clarified, biting your lip nervously. "It's empowering to see someone so passionate about something they believe in," you confessed, feeling a wave of admiration wash over you.

"Ah," Cillian nodded, his gaze flickering downward, thoughtful. "Yeah, it is something I don't talking about, I suppose," he said humbly, and, in that moment, his piercing blue eyes held a certain depth and maturity, making you feel drawn to him, his charisma undeniable.

"You suppose?" you giggled, unable to contain your amusement. "I thought you loved speaking in public," you teased him playfully, shaking your head in disbelief, knowing that, usually, he hated the attention.

"Well, sometimes I do," Cillian admitted, his gaze drifting away as it danced with the memory of the moments he spent addressing the audience. "But, honestly, I prefer smaller crowds," he added, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

You laughed at his honesty, sensing that he felt comfortable around you. This realization made you blush, a sudden surge of warmth enveloping your entire body.

"You should consider doing more speeches like that," you encouraged him, placing your hands on his arms gently. "People listen to you because of you who are. So they're impactful," you added, locking eyes with him.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Perhaps," he conceded, his voice barely louder than a whisper as, through the door and windows, you heard the next speaker, James, being introduced to the crowd.

"You should probably go inside and listen to your boyfriend speak," Cillian suggested, arching an eyebrow mischievously. "Or he might get jealous," he added, his lighthearted humor making you laugh.

"What makes you think that I am dating James?" you asked Cillian, a flush of heat coloring your cheeks.

"I just assumed," Cillian shrugged, his eyes flickering nervously. "You seemed close," he explained, his voice trailing off.

"He's not my type," you replied, shrugging your shoulders dismissively. "Anyway, we're just friends," you added, your voice cracking slightly.

"Well, that's good," Cillian responded, a hint of relief washing over his face. "Because I think he seems a little too arrogant for you," he then teased, causing you to furrow your brow.

"Is that so, huh?" you replied coyly, glancing at Cillian with a sheepish grin. "Well, you might be right there," you admitted, feeling a tingle of excitement course through your veins. "He is a little arrogant and I still feel somewhat drawn towards a certain kind of actor, so...," you said, your voice dropping to a hushed whisper. 

Cillian's breath hitched and the air between you crackled with electricity, and you could hear the faint thrumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The tension between you was palpable, and you knew that you were playing with fire.

"A certain kind of actor?" Cillian repeated, his gaze fixated on you.

"Yeah, but unfortunately he is unavailable," you added, your voice trailing off as Cillian's ice-blue eyes bore into you, a storm of emotions brewing in the depths of his pupils.

"I really miss you, you know?" Cillian whispered quietly, his voice trembling slightly. "I just cannot get you out of my fucking head," he admitted, reaching out to touch your hand, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin lightly.

"I know," you murmured softly, leaning closer to his ear, your breath hot against his neck. "And, I wish I could say that I hate you for ending things the way you did, but I get it. I get why you did it," you confessed, your voice thick with emotion as Cillian closed his eyes, savoring the sweet sound of your voice as it resonated in his eardrums.

"Let's take a walk," you then suggested, pulling him toward the campus gardens. "I need some space to clear my head," you confessed, eager to escape the crowd and the looming threat of discovery.

"Okay," Cillian agreed hesitantly, following you through the grand entrance of another campus building, located on the other side of the greens and the parking lot. 

"Where are we going though?" Cillian asked you cautiously, his eyes darting left and right, scanning the area warily.

"Just somewhere more private," you whispered back, the scent of your perfume wafting tantalizingly under his nose. He could feel an insistent throb beginning to stir deep within his loins, straining against the confines of his trousers.

"Alright," Cillian agreed, reluctantly releasing your hand. "But remember, we can't be seen together," he reminded you sternly, his tone laced with suppressed urgency.

"Don't worry, I got this," you reassured him confidently, slipping your hand into his and intertwining your fingers with his before pulling him into the garden nursery, a small but secluded greenhouse not far from the function hall. 

"Here," you said, stepping inside, the dimmer light of the greenhouse engulfing you both in a warm cocoon of shadows.

The greenhouse was illuminated by soft glowing lamps hanging overhead, casting eerie silhouettes on the glass panes in front of you. The smell of damp earth and decaying vegetation permeated the air, a sharp contrast to the elegant surroundings you had just left behind.

"Can you imagine what would happen if someone saw us here?" Cillian muttered nervously, his voice quivering slightly.

"No one comes in here at this hour," you responded, taking a step closer to him, pressing your body up against his. "Trust me," you added seductively, tilting your head slightly to lock eyes with him.

"Are you sure?" Cillian whispered in your ear, his warm breath fanning out against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"Yeah," you murmured, leaning in closer, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. "Let's just enjoy this moment," you breathed onto his shoulder, gripping his hand tightly.

"For tonight, yeah," Cillian agreed, pulling you closer, his fingers tracing lines along your bare arm before, finally, he pressed his lips on to yours. 

This time, the kiss was different - deeper, wilder, more desperate. It was almost primal as you both fell back against the nearest bench, your bodies colliding with the hard wood surface with a dull thud. Cillian pulled away from you for a second, panting heavily before gazing at you through half-lidded eyes.

"Fuck, I missed this," he gasped, his voice hoarse and strained as he traced your jawline with his fingertips delicately.

You couldn't resist the temptation any longer and kissed him back, passionately, your tongue exploring his mouth eagerly.

"Y/N," Cillian moaned, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly, pulling you even closer until you could feel his erect cock against your thigh.

You reached down, cupping his erection through his pants, and groaning in response.

"I missed this too," you panted, stroking him roughly through his trousers while he quickly unbuckled his belt. 

"Let's get these off," he whispered hoarsely, his breathing labored as he tugged your dress up past your hips, exposing your underwear.

"Hmm, but we better be quick," you told him before reaching beneath your dress and sliding off your panties and letting them fall on to the dirt covered floor.

"Agreed," Cillian grunted as you then lowered his zipper completely and slid his jeans down to his knees.

His cock sprang free, and you immediately climbed on top of where he was sitting. You then reached down in between you to stroke the tip of his cock and guide it right to your wet pussy. He grabbed your hips and helped you lower yourself onto him while he stayed seated. Your inner muscles instantly clamped down on his hardness, and he groaned loudly as his cock disappeared inside you.

"Fuck, Y/N," he gasped, watching you carefully. "You're so tight," he complimented you, squeezing your asscheeks gently.

"Oh god," you whimpered, grinding your hips against him, enjoying the sensation of being fully impaled on his cock.

"This feels fucking amazing," you admitted, looking directly into his eyes, feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed.

"So fucking good," you repeated, rocking your hips against him harder.

"Shh, not so loud," Cillian hissed, glancing around nervously to double-check that no one had entered the greenhouse.

"I can't help it," you pleaded, burying your face in his sweat-soaked neck while trying to muffle your cries.

Cillian groaned loudly, his grip tightening around your waist as he thrust upwards into you.

"Fuck," he hissed, his fingers digging into your flesh painfully.

The rhythmic slap of your bodies smashing together sounded harsh in the otherwise silent greenhouse.

"Tell me how good my pussy feels, Cillian!" you whimpered, grinding your hips against him while his cock twitched inside you.

"Fucking perfect," he growled, his hands now resting on your ass, squeezing it tightly. His cock slid in and out of you with practiced precision, his strokes steady and deliberate. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body, and you couldn't help but cry out in ecstasy.

"Oh god, yes," you moaned, clutching handfuls of his shirt as, suddenly, you couldn't hold it any longer. 

Your orgasm came crashing down on you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing uncontrollably against his own.

"Fuck, fuck," you screamed, clawing at his skin desperately as you bucked your hips wildly, cumming all over his cock.

"That's it," Cillian growled, his voice strained and raspy.

"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, slamming his cock into you mercilessly, his balls slapping against your ass repeatedly.

"Jesus, I love it," he added, his grip tightening around your waist.

"I love it too," you moaned, running your fingers through his hair lovingly. The intensity of your lust and desire for each other seemed impossible to contain, yet you both reveled in the forbidden nature of your encounter.

"I've missed you so much," you whispered, your voice hoarse and ragged.

"I've missed you too," he responded, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his emotions.

"I want you to cum inside me Cillian. Please," you begged as you rocked your hips back and forth, meeting every thrust with equal force. "Please fill me up with your cum," you whined, arching your back and throwing your head back, your hair falling down like a curtain of silk.

In response, Cillian buried his face in your neck, sucking and kissing the tender spot behind your ear. It drove you crazy, and you began to grind against him harder, feeling his length throbbing inside you as, eventually, he reached his climax too. 

You could feel his cock pulsing, spurting jet after jet of hot sticky cum into you, filling you up completely.

"Fuck, that was amazing," you whispered breathlessly, collapsing onto top of him, your sweat-slicked skin sticking to his.

"Definitely," Cillian agreed, holding you close, your faces mere inches apart. You could sense the beating of his heart under your cheek, the warmth of his breath on your temple. In that moment, everything felt right. You felt whole until, eventually, you had to break it up and head back to the function, which is where Danielle was already looking for her husband.

"Where have you been?" she asked him as you both returned separately, through different entrances. 

"I just needed some air after the speech," Cillian told her casually as he reached for a drink while Danielle gracefully pulled a leaf from his hair.

"Some air?" Danielle arched an eyebrow skeptically as she fixed Cillian with a scrutinizing gaze. "Okay," she added, brushing the stray strands of hair off his forehead, which is when she noticed a stain on the collar of his otherwise pristine white shirt. 

She squinted suspiciously, her lips curling into a thin line as she spotted what appeared to be some make up. Red lipstick mixed with a stain of foundation. 

To be continued...

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[freddiemercurydaily]

“I Dress to Kill, but tastefully” Freddie is a groom in a spectacular, unforgettable staged wedding for charity.  5 November 1985 - Freddie Mercury and English actress Jane Seymour appear on the catwalk, dressed as groom and bride at "Fashion Aid", Royal Albert Hall, London - for Ethiopian Famine relief.  Fashion Aid was billed as the “largest gathering of fashion creatives in the UK”,  it was a glitzy and glamorous designer fund-raiser hosted by Bob Geldof and a spin-off of his Band Aid philanthropy project, which was organized to raise funds for the ongoing Ethiopian famine.  The event attracted 5,500 guests and was held at the Royal Albert Hall in London. It was reportedly one of the largest gatherings of fashion types in the UK at the time, featuring local designers such as David and Elizabeth Emanuel, Joseph Tricot, Bruce Oldfield and Body Map. Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, Ringo Starr and Anjelica Huston were in the crowd, while musicians such as Boy George, and Madonna made an appearance at the red carpet event, too.This spectacular star-studded event ended in a fabulous runway ‘wedding’ between Freddie Mercury and actress Jane Seymour.

 This would be the undisputed highlight of the night as Freddie would once again steal the show! (Remember, Freddie and Queen stole Live Aid just several months earlier).The music during the Jane Seymour and Freddie Mercury "wedding" ceremony was the famous Widor's Toccata (Symphony no. 5).Guests were in awe as Seymour sauntered out in a white lace wedding gown tied up with bows designed by David and Elizabeth Emanuel, who four years earlier famously designed Princess Diana’s endless wedding dress (You’ll notice Jane’s beautiful dress is stylistically similar to Princess Diana’s).The dress was Accessorised with a flower crown made of daisies and lilies.  Jane Seymour sauntered down the runway and planted a theatrical kiss on the lips of Freddie Mercury!  Their vows were sealed and Mercury then took off down the catwalk, barefoot with the massive bridal bouquet, throwing blossoms to the delighted crowd just like he would at a Queen concert. It was all fun and for a wonderful cause too. Freddie, a fashion icon of unparalleled status, was dressed in the same Emanuel-designed Latin American-cum Russian Imperialist military dictator’s jacket that he’d unveiled at his 39th birthday party, a notoriously debauched drag ball in Munich exactly two months earlier. He looked absolutely incredible, like “Prince Charming.” Freddie was no stranger to fashion and this was one of his biggest scene-stealing fashion moments in history. So majestic ****The source of the details is an excerpt from the official Fashion Aid film, as directed by 10cc’s Kevin Godley

[whoiwanttoday]

The Met Gala was last night and for a lead in I saw countless stories about how the Met Gala used to be better, a thing I feel like I have been hearing since it became a pop culture thing instead of an obscure fund raiser. Now that it's here we'll get endless debate about who is and who isn't on theme. Some people will thinking the theme means one thing, another will think it's another thing. Without fail, everyone will think the theme is painfully clear and you are an idiot for not getting it and how clear it is. Besides that, even people who agree on the theme will debate does this mean you have to wear a dress from the gilded age or can your look be inspired by the trappings of the gilded age. Let me weigh in by saying I find this all exhausting. I don't ever care for agreements about how much better things used to be because it is always poisoned by nostalgia. What people always actually mean is that they miss how they felt in that era and that age and feeling and place in life is impossible to recapture because time is a real asshole that keeps moving forward no matter how many times you ask it to stop. As for the theme stuff... yeah, look, some stuff is always grossly off theme. People who didn't even try and just wanted to wear something they think is sexy or whatever. That's fine, they tend not to get posted cause it does feel a little lazy to me but I can't really work up any sort of animosity. Everything else? If people are trying they are trying, the beauty of art is that it is a form of self expression and 10 people can express the same thing and none of it looks alike. This is a feature, not a bug, so if you are talking about an event that is about fashion as art then maybe you shouldn't be worried so much about if people completed the assignment as you would. That's how philistine thinks. That looks nothing like a guy with a guitar so it's a shitty painting, only photoreaslism is valid art. That kind of thing. Anyway, I thought Blake Lively's gown was quite eye catching and I appreciate her thought behind it. A lot of New York's most iconic landmarks were built in the gilded age and she tries to evoke them. Also the dress changes color from copper to green. Even if that wasn't meant to evoke copper roofs and the Statue of Liberty it would still be cool as fuck. So I am posting her. She traditionally wears stuff I enjoy at the Met Gala. Feel free to tell me how wrong I am though. I won't read it, I am in a lot of pain, I am cranky, I am old, so I'll just swipe away the notification but don't ever let anyone discourage you from shouting into the void.Today I want to fuck Blake Lively.

[memphisfaith]

Hearts of Lust: Chapter 7

Pairing Kim Namjoon X Reader

Genre: Collage!AU, Smut

Word Count: 1.K

Warning: Cursing, mentions of smut, smut, consumption of alcohol, mentions of violence, violence, crack personality disorders, Chaotic energy.

Summary: College is any young adult's prime years, at least that's what Lee (y/n) and Kim Namjoon thought. The two are infamous for two reasons, by two very different crowds. Among the professors they are picture perfect students with perfect scores, attendance, and image. However, among the student body they're the very essence of lust with amazing bodies, sex appeal, and skill. The two, although strikingly similar, butt heads quite a bit with competitions of everything from grades to who can get a person to drop their pants the fastest. With the two of them ready to conquer the school year it's all a matter of Go Big or Go Home.

I glance over the group of guys beside me, the group of them doing different things in their own little sub groups. Hoseok, Jimin, and Jungkook are buzzing around making random spazzy gestures as they run in circles. Jin, Yoongi, and Taehyung sit at a table working on an assignment for their class. While Namjoon and I read the first book assigned by our lit. Professor.

I sigh, placing my book down and rubbing my eyes. The constant yelling and laughter coming from the three wild boys made it hard to focus on my book. I finally gave it a rest and marked my page before closing the book. 

Instead I took out my loose paper notes from my earlier class and copied them down in my notebook in a neater fashion. I pull out my colored fine tip pens and markers, notebook, and the papers.

I then muted the yelling boys out and began to copy down the notes, memorizing them as I wrote. A quarter through my notes, I glanced at the clock. We only had an hour of study hall between the 2nd and 3rd lectures, and from what I can tell I only had a few minutes to pack up before we had to go. I decide to go ahead and start.

I packed my stuff quicker than I thought I would have, so with the few spare minutes I have to spare I sit watching kookie and Tae playfight. However things started to get a little too rough. A collective sigh left Namjoon and I, unconsciously my hand reaches out in a fist, A muscle reflex I gained when things like this happened. A group agreement that if two or more can't agree on something or if we cant decide who is to do something we play rock, paper, scissors. Loser loses the argument or does the task.

With three shakes I pop my hand out revealing paper, I glance over at Namjoon's hand. He holds out scissors. Despite the fact he still has his head stuck in that book reading the pages, I can still see that smug smirk tucked behind the cover and pages.

I groan as I drop my bag and stand from my chair. I walk over to the two and wedge myself between the two. I cross my arms and glare sharply at the two. "Stop it, If you want to fight, wait until you go to your martial arts club." I scold. 

The two bowed their heads with a collective, "Yes Noona.". I nod my head in approval before walking back over to my seat. I sat in my seat but it wasn't long before the hourly bell rang. Namjoon and I walked to our lecture while the rest of them broke off to go to their other lectures. I sat in my seat beside the foul demon as class started.

I wipe my stray hairs out of my face with my wrist holding the paintbrush in my hand. Glancing down at my sketch book where I glued and taped in my different references. The hue of one of the vases is a little darker than what I'd had mixed on my palate. 

I walked back over to the paint station and began to mix that darker color. "(y/n)!" I hear Withrow call, "Yeah!" I call back. "I need you for a minute." she calls again, I put my palate down and grab a hand towel on the way out. 

I wipe paint off as I make my way over to her, but my eyes widen at the crowd with her, "What's all this?" I gap looking over the crowd. "Well the fund raiser for the club went better than expected." She huffs. "The one for studio time?" I ask and she nods, "And the one that includes the art lessons." She adds.

My eyes widen, "It's a joint event?" I ask in a slight panic. She nods her head, I set out an aggravated scoff "I'll have to talk to the admin and secretary about this." I mumble. "It's okay I'm sure you and I can handle this," I assure.

I run back over to my work station and grab my apron, I put it on as I hurriedly rush back to the main classroom. "Hello everyone, welcome to the open studio and class. Mrs. Withrow is passing out a folder full of art styles we can offer to teach you today for those who want to learn. Everyone else  is welcome to do as they please because this is an open studio. All we ask is that you behave maturely, don't disturb those around you, and keep your area as clean as possible." I smile. 

I hear sounds of agreement before letting the large group find their seat. "NOONA!!" I hear a familiar yell, My eyes widen as I see Kookie and Tae waving at me. "What are you two doing here?!? Don't you have dance practice with Hoseok?" I whisper quietly. 

The two grin at me childishly, "Don't tell Hyung we skipped. We heard your fundraising and we both could resist coming to see you." Taehyung spoke up. I sigh and rub my hand over my face "Fine, hurry up and sit down. Don't cause too much trouble you two." I warn as they hurry off to grab a seat beside each other.

I go back to getting everyone settled. Without much thought I wonder the room helping the occasional person, flirting here and there as well. Open studio was half way over when the door was busted open to reveal a pissed off Hoseok.

"THERE YOU TWO ARE!" He screams, My eyes widen as he marches his way over to the two boys. Oh hell no, he doesn't get to come in here like that. I quickly place myself between the three of them and glare at Hoseok. 

"Who the hell do you think you are coming in here like that. Can't you see they're working. you don't get to just come in here like that and snatch them up. So you best walk out that door and try again or so help me Jung Hoseok." I sneer. 

Hoseok stiffens up before bowing his head "Yes ma'am." He whispers before walking back to the door and closing it, only to knock and wait for a response. "That's what I thought." I mutter as I let him in.

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[emotioffs]

The Paris Opera to Stage Its First Auction

Lots donated to the institution’s fund-raiser range from an Anselm Kiefer painting to a Chaumet diamond and pearl necklace. from NYT > Fashion https://ift.tt/H13OVRi

[petnews2day]

With Hunks for Hounds, it’s raining men, as well as cats and dogs

New Post has been published on https://petnews2day.com/pet-industry-news/pet-charities/with-hunks-for-hounds-its-raining-men-as-well-as-cats-and-dogs/

With Hunks for Hounds, it’s raining men, as well as cats and dogs

Dylan Royce, a Radnor Township police officer, was working a late shift one night when someone brought in a dog that had nowhere else to go. Her family couldn’t keep her. At that hour, placement options were few. So Royce, a dog lover, decided he’d look out for the super-loving brindle pup named Gidget until he figured something out.

Two years later, Royce and Gidget are now Mr. and Ms. October in the latest edition of a pets-and-pinup calendar: Gidget standing on two legs and Royce squatting without a shirt.

The calendar, Hunks for Hounds (and Cats!) 2023, raises funds and awareness for some of the city’s neediest animals. This year, the money will go to help the city’s approximately 400,000 community cats — homeless felines and kittens that live outdoors. Philadoptables also gives support to other animal groups through its various fund-raisers.

With Hunks for Hounds, it’s raining men, as well as cats and dogs.

“This is our ninth year doing the calendar. All the services are donated,” said Michelle Helms, Philadoptables president. “All we do is buy lunch on Saturday and Sunday for the volunteers and the photographer. It’s beautiful.”

Apparently calendar consumers think so, too. Philadoptables has filled orders from as far away as the United Kingdom.

The men aren’t professional models, just local guys willing to partially disrobe for a good cause. Some get nominated by a friend or family member. Others volunteer themselves.

Personal trainers are represented, as one might expect. This year, Helms said, there’s also a scientist, a city employee, and members of law enforcement, among other professionals.

Looks count when Philadoptables picks its calendar guys, but so do their stories.

To keep things real, the animals photographed with the men are all rescues — either their own pets or on loan from local groups. One of the dogs, Sisco, a gray-and-white shih tzu, is up for adoption through City of Elderly Love, a rescue for senior pets.

Alison Dunlap, the Cherry Hill photographer who donates her services, said the animals are a big icebreaker.

“I think what makes them most comfortable is having the animal there,” Dunlap said. “It’s such a fun distraction. The dog will just start kissing them and then they crack up.”

One thing the men have in common is they’re all animal lovers.

Matt Cowper, a vice president with the Beasley Media Group, shares the November page with a blue- and brown-eyed rescue pup named Robyn. He grew up with three dogs, and if his 6-year-old has anything to say about it, another one is soon on the way.

The radio executive is vice president of the Darren Daulton Foundation. So when colleagues involved with Philadoptables told him about the calendar, he decided to volunteer.

“It’s for an amazing charity,” Cowper said. “We’re helping pets get adopted. We’re building awareness.”

Blaise Lacca, a Philadelphia police officer and the calendar’s Mr. January, met his dog Ruby through his job, too.

Several months ago, a puppy was shot in Philly. “She was actually in the news,” Lacca said.

When he learned the pup was being taken care of by a rescue he’d volunteered with, he asked to meet her.

“We just clicked,” he said.

He and Ruby volunteered for the calendar, despite the comments it earned him from other members of the Rolling Badges, a motorcycle club of law enforcement officers, firefighters, and former members of the military.

“My motorcycle club teased the hell out of me,” Lacca said. “They said they’re going to print it and make my picture into place mats.”

Gustavo Ugarte, a pet fashion designer from Northeast Philly, has had nothing but positive feedback from his friends and gym buddies. It’s also drawn new visitors to his Wow Wow Ugarte Collection Facebook page.

This is Ugarte’s second time in the calendar.

“I almost had a heart attack when I opened the calendar and I saw I made the cover. Oh my God!”

He shares the honor with two very cute kittens.

Tim Zeltner, a personal trainer with Prime Intensity Training in Conshohocken, was encouraged to do the calendar by a friend. This past spring, his beloved dog Scout, whom he adopted 14 years before, died.

“I thought this was a good way to honor his memory,” Zeltner said.

Any awkwardness he felt was dispelled by a litter of husky puppies.

“I highly recommend it,” Zeltner said. “I’ve never done anything like that before in my life. It takes a lot of courage, whether you’re physically fit or not, to put yourself out there.”

Quite a few of his female friends have bought the calendars, he added, “whether it was just for me, the dogs, or both.”

Hunks for Hounds calendars retail for $20 with free shipping through philadoptables.org.

[keenlascl]

Chhoti Si Asha Serial Wiki

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[animalguideee]

[ad_1] Animal rescue programs are often wonderful and beneficial organizations that help find loving homes for misplaced, mistreated, stray and unwanted pets. Without local animal rescues, the UK would be facing many more issues relating to stray cats and dogs than they do today.The general purpose in animal rescue organizations is primarily to work hard in order to save the lives of pets in need. Sometimes, pets that have been in the shelter for too long are eligible for euthanization, and these organizations desire to see no animal euthanized. Rescue shelters strive to keep these loving pets alive, as they look for new caring families to take a new pet into their home.There are many different kinds of rescue groups out there for different kinds of pets. For example, there is rabbit, bird, and there is even a squirrel rescue group! The primary kinds are cat and dog organizations. Some have branches for specific breeds, such as Golden Retrievers, large dog, or working dog rescue.These organizations normally work closely with animal shelters. Animal rescue organizations will normally accept pets from shelters or pet adoption agencies that have been there too long and have worn out their welcome. Sometimes when a shelter is unable to find a home, an organization can. If for some reason it takes a good amount of time for a dog or cat to be adopted, animal rescues usually have a list of many foster families who are willing to take the pet into their own loving home until an adoption family can be found.Animal rescue organizations primarily depend on donations and fund-raisers as their money source. They also depend heavily on caring volunteers who keep things running smoothly and in an orderly fashion. They also have foster family volunteers, who make a large difference in the lives of pets everyday by accepting these unfortunate animals into their homes.While animals are staying at the local rescues, they often benefit greatly. Many rescues give the pets health attention, such as spaying or neutering, vaccinations, disease prevention medication, and other medical attention that might be necessary. These pets also often play with volunteers, doing things such as catch, tug-o-war, or simply running around and getting along with other dogs. Many times these pets undergo training sessions as well, so that when a caring family receives their new pet, they have little to worry about; they are getting a healthy, happy, and house-trained pet as a new addition into the family. They are also saving a valuable life in the process of animal adoption through a rescue group.Because of these non-profit volunteer organizations, hundreds of animal lives have been saved annually by being rescued and then transferred into a loving new home. Without the faithful work of these volunteers, these organizations would not be possible. If you are interested in getting involved in your community, animal rescue is a wonderful way to help by donating your time or finances. Help your community, and help save precious animal lives by supporting your local animal rescue organization.This article brought to you by http://www.dog-fence.org Visit us for valuable information on how to keep your pet safe from avoidable accidents. Discover the benefits of dog fences today!  You will find information relating to organisations near you via the links on the right. [ad_2] Source link

[go-scottishgal14]

Met Gala b’ground, from NYT...

May 2, 2022

Landon Nordeman for The New York Times

It’s the first Monday in May, and in the world of fashion and entertainment, that means one thing: The annual extravaganza known as the Met Gala will play out tonight. I asked Vanessa Friedman, our fashion editor, what to expect. Here’s what she told me:

I’ve been covering the Met Gala for something like 18 years, give or take a party or two. Some, I’ve attended in person, though since I joined The New York Times, I’ve watched from afar (in keeping with the paper’s policy of not accepting free tickets).

Either way, what has struck me the most over time is how a party that started as a fairly standard New York City cultural fund-raiser back in 1948 has become a potent distillation of social, political, financial and cultural power — and, lately, a creator of viral entertainment. Each year everyone says, “Wow, there’s no way it can get any crazier” — or raise more money — and each year it does. It’s really a business unto itself, more than a mere black-tie bash at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

So, in that context, what to expect? (Besides a traffic jam on upper Fifth Avenue this evening. The arrivals begin at 5:30 p.m..)

First and foremost: The fashion is going to be truly over-the-top.

The dress code this year is “Gilded Glamour,” which at first made me think of “Goldfinger,” the 1964 James Bond film that featured murder-by-gilding. It’s actually a reference to “The Gilded Age,” both the recent streaming series and the actual historical time period, in which New York society (Astors, Vanderbilts, Whitneys) embraced highly decorative party dresses and white tie. Put those two things together, and odds are high we will see a lot of gold and a lot of gewgaws, plus bustles, corsets, big sleeves, and trains. Maybe even some panniers.

It’s theoretically linked to the Costume Institute show it is celebrating, “In America: An Anthology of Fashion,” which will be situated in the Met’s American period rooms and conceived to recontextualize the way fashion has helped craft American identity since the mid-19th century. But while I’d like to say there may also be some pointed social commentary-via-gala dress on the fact that the Gilded Age was also a period of extreme income inequality, there I think the odds are low.

Second: The guest list — kept secret until attendees hit the red carpet — will be as eye-popping a mix as always. Tickets are invitation-only, and each attendee is personally approved by Anna Wintour, the editor of Vogue and the maestro behind the party, so just because you can buy a ticket ($35,000 each, with tables costing $200,000 to $300,000) doesn’t mean you get to go.

Regulars like Rihanna and Elon Musk may or may not make it this year (she’s about to give birth; he’s, well, busy buying Twitter), but Katy Perry has already teased some info about her dress (she once went as a lit-up chandelier, but said this time she’s thinking more classic), so she’s going.

NYC Mayor Eric Adams is going, too, his press secretary said on Sunday. “While he will celebrate American fashion, he also recognizes the fraught history of the Gilded Age,” the press secretary, Fabien Levy, said by email. This was after The New York Post quoted someone it identified as a longtime friend as saying, “He’s been dying to go for years.”

The co-chairs include Regina King, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, while honorary chairs are Wintour, Tom Ford, and Adam Mosseri of Instagram, which is underwriting the party and exhibit along with Condé Nast. (As an aside, Instagram is arguably a large part of why the gala dress has gotten so exaggerated; it’s a more effective way to go viral, which is a better way for a brand and a celebrity to get attention, and thus a better marketing tool.)

One thing to remember, if you’re taken aback by the gala in all its excess and expense (and it’s easy to be taken aback): it exists because the Costume Institute is the only curatorial department in the Met that is forced to pay for itself.

That means the Costume Institute’s expenses — for curators’ salaries, garment preservation and exhibits — do not come out of the museum’s budget, despite the fact that blockbuster exhibits such as “China Through the Looking Glass” and “Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination” have been among the most popular in Met history, and clearly benefit the museum. It’s the party that makes them possible.

[remilandau]

REMI LANDAU – FASHION DESIGN PROFESSIONAL WITH DIVERSE EXPERIENCE

An aspiring fashion designer with a particular interest in social nightwear, Remi Landau most recently served as an assistant to a personal stylist at Bergdorf Goodman, where she gained extensive experience in curating clothing selections for a broad range of clients. Prior to working for the New York-based company, Remi Landau attended Syracuse University, where she earned a bachelor’s degree in sociology and served as spirit chair of the Sigma Delta Tau sorority. In this role, she was responsible for chapter engagement with local nonprofits and promoting fund-raisers on behalf of organizations such as Prevent Child Abuse America and Women for Women International.

In addition to the promotion of philanthropic endeavors at school, Remi Landau gained marketing experience through internships at Epix and Harpers Bazaar. She also served three months as a litigation paralegal with Weitz & Luxenberg where, in addition to attending deposition and client preparation meetings, she prepared and reviewed indexing and other documents to be utilized by senior trial attorneys. Ms. Landau attends New York Fashion Week events every year and enjoys drawing and calligraphy as supplemental forms of creative release.

https://www.remilandau.us

[crazyblondelife]

A Fashion Show You Don't Want to Miss

As a woman in midlife, one thing I’ve learned is that supporting other women is crucial. We can all support worthy causes and do so much good in the world to empower those who have had struggles in life. When I think of a woman who has empowered others, I always think of Susan Kanoff. Susan started a boutique in Boston called Uncommon Threads and uses clothes to transform the way women look and feel. She dresses women who have struggled with domestic abuse, substance abuse and other hard life situations because she realizes that “self confidence is the best outfit”.

“We could dress a woman who was maybe a victim of domestic violence and is ashamed to go to their kid’s school conference,” said Kanoff. “Whatever it takes to get that woman to feel strong and powerful through the way she looks.”

Uncommon Threads Boutique is filled with donated clothing arranged beautifully and presented boutique style so the women feel that they are shopping like anyone else. Having a boutique experience makes them feel beautiful and offers an opportunity to get clothing that they would never be able to afford otherwise. We all know how much more confident we feel when we’re wearing a cute outfit. This confidence boost allows these women to present themselves to the world in the best way possible…literally setting them up for success!

That’s where the fashion show comes in…

Uncommon Threads will be hosting a virtual fashion show to raise much needed funds in collaboration with the School of Fashion Design in Boston. The fashion show will feature the creations of their emerging designers.

I will be a panelist for the show, joining some of my favorite bloggers, including Jamie Lewinger from More Than Turquoise, Isabella Thorp from Confessions of a Super Ager, Tonia Parker from The Real Chic Life, Silvia Colella from Simply Sylvia, Shauna Crow from Chic over 50, Alison Cary of Wardrobe Oxygen as well as Susan Kanoff! You can read more about Susan and Uncommon Threads here!

The fashion show will be held on June 16 with red carpet interviews on Facebook at 6:30 and the show will begin at 7:00 pm EST. There will be a fun Zoom after-party to talk about the show, fashion, the designers and more! You don’t want to miss this and I know you want to support Susan as she raises funds for Uncommon Threads. All you have to do to help women in need is purchase a ticket and enjoy the show!

Keep Scrolling to read more about the fashion show and purchase your ticket!

You're invited to a virtual fashion show, in collaboration with the School of Fashion Design. Be the first to view the stunning creations from Boston's emerging designers! You'll also hear from clients and case workers about the impact Uncommon Threads is having on low-income women.

You'll get an exclusive preview of the stunning creations from the School of Fashion Design's emerging designers! 

 Walk the virtual red carpet to show off your own fabulous style! Prizes will be awarded for the "best of" in several categories.

 Bid on exciting auction items including designer handbags, luxury beauty products, amazing experiences, and more!

 Hear personal stories about how Uncommon Threads is empowering

low-income women.

Wednesday, June 16th

7:00 – 7:30 pm ET

Virtual Red Carpet kicks off at 6:30 pm ET

Purchase Your Ticket

I do hope you’ll join me for this fabulous event and support this worthy cause!

[planettnibiruu]

Dia x Black!Mc.. cute cultural exchange and hair fluff 👀

Okay so he thinks it's so interesting. He's already open and excited about general human world things, but when you tell him about your heritage he can't stop asking questions.

He loves hearing about the fashion and the history of your hair styles. He thinks all the bright colours and patterns are beautiful, he even encourages you to wear them when he throws balls at his castle.

And don't get him started on your hair. He never touches it without consent but you can tell whenever you're around he's constantly admiring you.

If you feel too lazy on wash day or get tired, dia is your knight in shining armor. He's done all his own research, he'll wash your hair and leave it perfectly mostirised and detangled. He always uses the perfect amount of product and the massage he gives your scalp when he applies oil is just- *muah*.

Hell ask if you can do any braids on his hair, and while box braids or cornrows will cause it all to fall out, plats are perfect for him. Any plats you tie in his hair will be there forever or atleast until barb forces him to take them out.

He! Wants! To! Try! All! The! Food! From modern and more African-American foods to traditional food he wants it all. Tell him the history from it, teach him how to make it! This is your grams recipe? How wonderful, she's an excellent cook! He doesn't care what it's made of, he has no prejudice of bias, food is food, and lord the food you make is good.

Once you tell him about black history month, he loses his mind. Now every year there's a huge ball at the start of the month. It's a fund-raiser, and he asks your help in choosing a charity you think will help the most people. The ball includes all your favourite cultural food and drinks, your favorite music and dia even takes the time to set up a little info booth too.

Following the last hc, during black history month he makes a point that more black people are being featured in the public eye. Magazines and billboards are plastered with black singers and actors. Book shops and library's display book all written by black men and women, and the radio plays music all by black artists.

A/n I'm from australia, and a very white part if it, and while I am latino/aboriginal I'm not black. So if I got anything wrong or said anything offensive please let me know!! Thanks!!

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 10 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

To Sakura, world still revolved normally; nothing changed between them, nothing mattered enough for her to behave differently. To Sasuke, the world shifted in its axis, having revealed a glimpse of his true feelings to her however falsely convenient she deemed them to be; everything changed between them, everything mattered enough for him to behave differently.

Like flinching at her slight grazes on his skin or his ears picking up her voice in the middle of the crowd noises or his eyes following the trail of her rose hair tied up in a ponytail, bewitched by the sway of the strands as she tousled to get to the front of the fray, her fingers burning a hole through his sleeve.

“HOMERUN!” The announcer screamed through the microphone, the feedback running through ripples in the throng of people. “Uzumaki Naruto nails a clutch win in the last inning for his team in their first ever nationals!”

Screams erupted around them, and as others jumped and cursed and hugged each other, she stood there frozen in time, her hands on her mouth. “He won. He won, Sasuke.” Her voice quivered, and he knew then that she was crying.

“Yeah, the blonde idiot won.” He allowed himself to smile, picking the blonde among the ruckus that enfolded below.

An hour and lesser filled stadium after, the two went down to congratulate their friend with open arms despite the sweat and the grit. Sasuke went with the flow, jumping up and down and circling about in the middle of the pitcher’s mound. They broke away from each other’s hold after several minutes, breathless in the undertaking, and flushed with all the gleeful screaming.

Two firm pats on Naruto’s back and a ruffle on his porcupine hair. “You did well, idiot.”

“Ah I earned a compliment from grumpy. This truly is the best day of my life!” His teammates broke in laughter in the background.

“I’m so proud of you. I’m so glad we took the bullet train to watch your game,” Sakura said through tears. Perhaps it was the height of the celebration or the ride of her emotions; she reached for Naruto’s face and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Sasuke turned away just in time, thankful for the screams, hoots, and whistles that possessed the student body. In his aversion, he also saw another face who kept looking anywhere but at the two. Hyuga Hinata, his ironic comrade in heartbreak.

Haru was in the group of spectators earlier, a pseudo-coach and mood-raiser for the team, his undercut prominent against his cap. Sasuke guessed him and Hinata were civil enough to be enclosed in a common space. He walked towards her, hands in his pockets.

“I’m gonna confess to him in the cultural festival,” she told him before he could reach her side.

He leaned against the bleachers, shutting out the continuing noises from the student body. In the midst of it, he can hear Sakura scolding all of them for misunderstanding. “And you’re gonna get rejected.”

“At least I told him what I felt,” she replied. “Did you already?”

He shrugged, unsure himself whether he got the point across or not.

“You better make it clear. You berated me for giving mixed signals after all.”

“You don’t hold your punches, Ms. Hyuga.” Sasuke sighed. “I think she rejected me already.”

Hinata let out a small laugh, the first in his vicinity. “Well, I’m just giving back your advice. If you think it so, you should ask again.”

“A second heartbreak won’t do me good.”

“The future has a lot in store.” She finally landed her gaze on Naruto and Sakura who separated now and were engaged by Haru in some funny exchange. “Good luck to us, Uchiha. I’ll take my leave.”

Sasuke detached himself from the bleachers. “Without saying congratulations?”

But Hinata continued on her exit without giving him a reply. To his surprise, it was not only him who caught her leaving; a pair of blue eyes also followed after her, mouth agape, hesitant to call her name not when he was in the presence of her ex-boyfriend and ex-captain. Ah, we’re all stuck in this complex hell, aren’t we?

His phone vibrated against his pocket. On normal days, he would ignore the call, but today wasn’t normal and he had to act nice for the favor he asked.

“Did your best friend win?” Itachi’s voice greeted him.

Sasuke didn’t correct him on the terminology. He just grunted a small yes, and somehow, he can hear his brother smiling on the other end of the call.

“Glad my donation helped fund their team’s expenses. I take it you also spent some for the bullet train?”

Again, another small yes.

“That’s nice.” It was the first time he heard Itachi chuckle again after the accident. “I’m glad you have friends.”

They’re not my friends fell silent on Sasuke’s lips. All he wanted was to consistently rank first, have uninteresting interactions…but all of those foiled because of the two. “Yeah, something like that.”

He heard the beeping pager in the background. “Gotta run, little brother. See you.”

Little brother. Sasuke swallowed back an unfamiliar sound.

It was a sob.

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

Sakura tried to look at anything but him – the titles of books on his shelves behind, the heads of other faculty members bobbing, the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock. Kakashi clucked upon seeing her career sheet.

“Haruno, you’ll be graduating salutatorian, just points away from Uchiha Sasuke and yet you haven’t listed a university or a job listing. It’s referral season, and you’ve done a lot of good in this school.” Kakashi held his eyes steady on her, a firm line on his lips. “Don’t you want help?”

She mustered a smile, if that was what they call it nowadays, and handed him a filled out form. Whether he could see that it was written with wavering hands, she’d never know. “I settled on fashion design. I’ve always wanted to be a seamstress myself.”

That was a lie, and she knew Kakashi knew judging by how the firm line stayed. He briefly nodded and let her go.

Sensing the bubbling anxiety, she traversed the noisy hallways and almost sprinted to what has also become her safe space – the hidden spot of the boys behind the library. It wasn’t lunch time yet so Sasuke and Naruto wouldn’t be here. She slumped against the wall, sobs racking throughout her body.

Aimless was what she would describe her direction, untethered her depth, and a black hole her emotions.

“I wish you would let me help you.” Kakashi’s voice made her jump. She scanned her surroundings but cannot find a telling strand of silver in the hedges. He was probably standing on the entrance, just before the canopy of vines. “I didn’t follow you. I just knew the three of you went here for lunch and after-school chats. I’m a faculty, Sakura.”

“Please go away.” She never heard her voice sounded so small…and vulnerable.

“Sometimes, talking it out would make the burden feel lighter.”

She didn’t respond, and he didn’t wait for it. His audible footsteps were an indication he was moving away so she took the bait. If this was one way to be near him, why couldn’t it be in the guise of her pain?

She emerged in the hedges, eyes bloodshot red and strained, only to find him leaning against the wall, waiting with a handkerchief for her.

In an ironic turn of events, he brought her to the program she initiated. When he turned to leave to give her the privacy she needed, she asked him to stay. And that simple silent gesture gave her the courage to face her reality.

That her parents were divorcing, and in a futile attempt to cope, she made herself scarce, almost invisible.

Perhaps she was too much work for a middle-class couple with a lot of bills and unemployed siblings to feed. Maybe if they didn’t have a child that hindered their defining career opportunities to relocate or get promoted to an overseas position. Her outstanding community work and numerous distinction medals just weren’t strong enough to warrant a reconsideration of their decision.

And maybe it was a wrong move to get a part time job and dissociate from the pink-haired, studious Sakura and be the adult black-haired, funky cashier Sakura because it only gave them the idea she can live just fine on her own without any of them worrying about her instead of seeing the whole thing as a call for help.

“If you’re ready, you should share your problem to the two,” her sensei said when they finished with her therapy consultation.

“They have heavier baggage,” she simply replied.

“They’re not comparable. Naruto has an empty baggage, a kid with no past, yet he drags it around. Sasuke has sand for load, it’s leaking at the seams but he refills it. And for you, it could be air or water. It’s because you’re compressing them all inside that they become heavier.” He laid a hand on her head, an action of a sensei to a student. “Thanks for sharing some of those with me, Sakura.”

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

Cultural festival was an amalgamation of confessions, last clinchers, and stolen moments. Whoever snatched a dance with someone they liked would be blessed with good relationship – that was how the saying went among the ranks of students.

It was the reason why Sasuke and Naruto hid throughout the day in their spot, content to eat instant ramen, batches of onigiri, and packs of orange and tomato juices. Throngs of freshmen and second years were on the hunt for their feet as dance partner.

“If only they knew I have two left feet,” Naruto grumbled. “I can’t even enjoy the day with Sakura. It’s pathetic to think I’m stuck with you.”

“I second,” Sasuke said. “Do you think she’ll confess to Kakashi later?”

“She hasn’t made a move yet?”

Sasuke shook his head.

“Wait what do you mean you second?”

Minutes of silence ensued. Sasuke put a whole onigiri in his mouth, too flustered to say it right at his face. “I like Sakura.” The words were jumbled with his chewing, and he was sure Naruto didn’t catch it.

But the idiot grinned and laughed maniacally. “The great pretender finally admits! When did you realize it? Did you have the fireworks in your head too?” He even mimicked a rainbow with his hands.

“That’s a rainbow, you idiot.” Sasuke scratched the back of his head. “When she was busy looking at Kakashi playing the piano.”

“Ah, will we ever have the chance?” Naruto snickered. “Let’s confess tonight, grumpy.”

“Already thought of that and already prepared for it.” Despite the seemingly downfall trajectory of their common affections, Sasuke still managed a smirk.

Not to be one-upped, Naruto pulled out his phone and flashed a small bouquet of dahlias. “Ready to be picked up tonight.”

A Greek tragedy, that was them; two best friends falling in love with and being rejected by the same girl.

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

Majority of the school population have gathered around the giant bonfire on the campus grounds, but Sakura knew Kakashi would be stuck in his cubicle in the faculty lounge, nose-deep in a novel, headphones in to drown out the noise, and feet propped up on his desk.

Tonight was the night she would bare her other truth naked to him.

But before she could even step foot in his space, she already heard the voice of his favorite book drifting across the nooks and partitions.

“You should be with your students.” Giggling and a sound she would only assume was a string of kisses.

“I don’t have much time with you. Let me be greedy just this time.” Hearing her sensei say that painted him in another light. So there was this very attached Kakashi, far from the laidback and chill professor she knew.

Sakura should turn her heels and join the rest of the student body. She should act like a good student model, ignore her teacher’s affairs, and pretend she was never here. Except she tripped while running, and that summoned the two of them to her aid.

“Sakura? Did you need something?”

She side-eyed Rin Nohara and shook her head, her one only good chance blown to bits by her own recklessness and stupidity. She muttered an apology and starts to walk away with limping feet when Rin stopped her.

“I’ll get a drink in the vending machine. I’ll be back in five minutes Kashi.”

Thank God for women intuition, Sakura thought.

But inevitably she was left alone in the corridor with her heartbeat far stronger than the noise of the band outside around the campfire and the unknowing subject of her admiration. She held tightly to his rubber tie around her wrist, the mark etched deeper by each day she leaves it there mangled with her pulse.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, a smile etched on his face, the soft moonlight falling on his features only to highlight his beauty mark. It was unfair seeing him like this only to have him break her heart.

She knew she didn’t stand a chance, but even then, she had to hear it clear and loud.

“I like you.”

Were three words ever enough to encapsulate the three years of affection she held for him? One word for each year she felt content with glimpses of him, may they only be passing shadows in the halls, an echoing voice in the adjacent room, the silent arbiter in council meetings or a silver strand she could easily pick out in a sea of black of white.

Kakashi looked at her, his smile still etched, his face still immaculate. “That wasn’t a question.”

“And that wasn’t a reply.” It was nature to look away when one was too scared to face truth, but for the many times he helped her, even without him fully realizing the extent, she owed it to him to be brave.

“But you already know the words.” A head pat, the same gesture that gave her comfort in the past was the same gesture that broke her heart just now. How easy it was for the breaker to give and take minute and mindless affections, but what right did she has to think they were special to begin with?

It was the end of an illusory conception.

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

A bouquet of dahlias and a bouquet of daffodils were hidden behind Naruto and Sasuke. It was dark, already past seven, the bonfire in its final vestiges, its sputtering flames waiting for last-minute lovers to dance in their splendid light.

Within the shadows came the girl of their dreams, hair untangled and morose emerald irises dipped in pools. Sasuke first noticed the bare wrist, the rubber tie gone, and he knew then that she confessed, and she was heartbroken.

He didn’t need to say anything to the blonde beside him. Her stance was enough to convey her present state of being. What she needed right now were her friends, not aspiring lovers stupid enough to break the friendship label.

And so they hid the bouquets on their backs, safe in the clutches of the dark, and when she reached out to them, their free hands already grasped her trembling fingers in waiting.

There they were, three broken-hearted people, wallowing in their own respective pain, sitting on the dewy grass that would leave stains on their clothes the next morning. When the school band started the last song, Sasuke stood up, abandoning his bouquet on the side, and pulled the other two up.

“Would be a shame to end our last cultural festival like this.”

Ten steps later, they were in the middle of the crowd of couples, three awkward friends holding each other’s hands and stepping on each other’s foot.

“For the love of God, you really can’t dance Naruto. Can’t you do a simple turn to the right?” Sasuke complained.

“Why are you putting all the blame on me? You’re the one who can’t differentiate the right from left!” Naruto spat back.

She laughed, and it somehow stopped their bickering for a moment. Bent at her stomach and eyes clinched shut in crinkles, that was their Sakura.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 11

[crown-queen-bambee]

FUBU

FUBU

For Us By Us

King Johnathan and Queen Bambee sporting icon brand FUBU. Fubu was amongst other urban street wear fashion in the late 90s and early 2000s. The royal couple partnered up with the brand in photoshoot. This collab is to raise money for school supplies for students. When you by FUBU money will got to the fund raiser they created. We love the King and Queen of France.

Shout out to @blewis50 and @martyp8 for making Fubu. I hope ya'll do more and more of other brands like Baby Phat, Sean John, Rocawear and Phat Farm.

Follow my Royal/Throwback RP on Instagram: crown_queen_bambee

[toxictoxicities]

For Skys completed Fashion FUNd Raiser :D

$30 Donation 5/5 Micron: @starstruck-fanatic / @temperanceverse-official Request for @blvdcharms

[creativesaroundus]

Zoba Martin explored the fragility of life in her latest piece for the 18th Annual Cashmere Collection initiative - a fund and awareness raiser fashion show for breast cancer. Chizoba created the most exquisite piece out of cashmere bathroom tissue paper.

Without a doubt, Zoba Martin has redefined the limits of what a dress can look like; who else could make a dress from tissue paper look so good?