#was it necessary to do runway shots of the fit?

[catharsim]

A divine pleasure ⭐

[draftsandrecs]

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Bimbo!Reader

Summary: Green tea shots and back shots (2 for 1 deal)

Word Count: 3,460

Warnings: 18+, Threesome, Oral sex, Degradation

You joined the team about 6 months ago. While you were still finding your way within the team, you were happily accepted. Within the past few months you found yourself growing closely with the girls of the team. You fit in easily with Wanda and Nat,  your demeanor as well as theirs fit together well. Wanda was more soft spoken and reserved. While Nat was more bold and of course spoke her mind with ease. Which left you the complete opposite of both. But in a good way. You were very outgoing, always talking, and friendly. It helped though since it fit your personality. That you deemed as a “bimbo”. Not because you were entirely dumb or naïve but because you were materialistic, party goer, and girly. You enjoyed being and feeling feminine more than the average. You loved getting ready, wearing makeup, finding new lip glosses to try, getting your nails done, hair done, and of course shopping. Unbeknownst to you though, two members on the team absolutely adored you for this, Bucky and Steve. They of course grew up in a different time where women wore modest outfits and kept to themselves. Though they had been around a while in the modern world they weren’t familiar with your aesthetic. When they met you it was a shock. It probably didn’t help what you wore the first time you were introduced either. Jeans that showed off your midriff, a small white tank top that perfectly outlined your breasts, and a tiny jacket that was there for looks rather than warmth. You were basically a bratz doll on walking legs. It also surprised them when you hugged everyone when being welcomed but they didn’t complain. Especially once they realized how good you smelled and felt against them. Ever since then, you were always known as “doll” for your looks. Always put together in one way or another. 

You were a little starstruck when you met the super soldiers. You always thought they were attractive when you saw them in magazines or in the news but when you met them in real life it was completely different. They looked like models rather than soldiers. They just had such an ideal look to them. If they weren’t super heroes they could definitely be on the runway. 

You, Bucky, and Steve grew close as the time went on. At first it was just being cordial since you didn’t see them a lot since they had their own place. But as time went on and sharing missions together, you guys grew closer. You really enjoyed their humor, especially Bucky’s dry wittiness and Steve’s cheesy jokes. You started to develop a little crush on them that you felt could be mutual considering there've been a few instances that could be used as examples. The latest incident was during a game night with a few other team members. Bucky had asked if you ever had a threesome, not just any threesome but with two males specifically. You answered no, which was true. But the way Bucky looked at you when he asked made it seem like the question wasn’t asked just out of curiosity. 

Tonight was a celebration for working so hard. The team decided that a much needed break was needed and what better way to do that than by partying.You were very excited to go out tonight. It had been a while since you went out due to missions, briefings, and mindless paperwork. It felt like a relief when Tony suggested a night out. You figured it was necessary if Tony was suggesting a break especially with how hard he works. Which means drowning in work until you are about to explode because you are so stressed. Therapy isn’t always necessary, sometimes it’s needing to get shit faced and blacking out in an uber. And that’s exactly what everyone needed. You were looking forward to possibly dancing with- on two specific men. 

Your room looks like your closet and drawers threw up. Clothes were spread out everywhere on the floor, chair, and bed. You were trying on everything you had along with trying to find shoes to match that wouldn’t completely destroy your feet tonight. You had totaled your picks down to three options. One was a brown dress that had thick shoulder straps and a V-neck down to the sternum. The next outfit was black leather pants with a cross stitch from the hips to mid though and a matching halter top. The last pick was nothing crazy, just a white mini skirt and a white crop tee that fell a little below your breasts. But you could dress it up with a coat and some body jewelry. You decided to debate for a little while. Until then you started on your makeup routine.

You finally decided on the last choice. You would thank yourself later once you begin to get hot with everyone in the club. 

“Chromatic look, I like it.” Nat’s voice chimes in at the bedroom doorway.

“Thank you, I usually try to go for more color but I think it’s cute especially with the accessories.” You reply while you finish putting in some gold chunky hooks. 

Your outfit was pieced together with a gold chain belt that fell at your waist, a long coat (for pictures), and some white fold over boots. You didn’t like the boots at first but it really did pull the fit together. 

“It is cute! I like the boots, very nice.” Wanda had now joined you and Nat. And has confirmed that the boots are a good choice.

“I appreciate it, love. Do you need to borrow something?” you ask, turning around as she rummages through the glass case. Anytime you guys go out she likes to look through your jewelry box to borrow your stuff. 

“Maybe.” She replies sheepishly knowing she always goes for a specific necklace and earrings. 

“I’m ready if you guys are.” You say grabbing your purse and checking you have your necessity items (I.D., credit card, and lipgloss). 

An excitement of  yes’s follows your comment. 

You turn the light off in your room and make sure nothing is on. Sam has forgotten once or twice to turn off the oven and almost burned down the kitchen. The smoke was not pleasant to have around, especially on an upper floor level. And the burnt pizza was basically a big hockey put. 

“Tony said the uber is around the block so we can head down.” Nat calls as you're done making sure the building is fine. You head towards the elevator to join the other two girls down to the lobby. 

The club is packed as usual. Body to body, strobe lights, drunk people failing to walk correctly. 

It’s a 3 story club with a dance floor on each level and two dj’s. It’s one of the best clubs in New York considering the team doesn’t get recognized with how no harsh lighting is used. 

Your hands are intertwined with Wanda and Nat’s as you guys form a chain to get through the floor to head to the area where the others are at. Getting lost in a place, any crowded place sucks especially in such a large club.  

“I think I see them!” You yell to Nat pointing with your shared hands at Tony standing while taking a shot. A few women sat behind him like a mini entourage. 

“Yeah that's him alright.” Nat says teasingly as you guys head to the area with an L shaped couch and table. 

“You guys finally made it, here catch up!” Tony exclaims already buzzed. A handful of shots in his hands welcoming you three.

“Green tea?” You question before you take it.

He nods, replying “of course.” 

You smile, taking both shots from his hands and easily downing them. Your body is full of excitement already with the music and friends around you. 

“Do you want a mixed drink?” Nat asks as you begin eyeing the crowd. Which is hard considering the lights are flashing and everyone moving around. You find Wanda and Vision together easily considering he’s the only bright being in the club. 

“Yeah, something fruity.” You reply as you discard your coat on the couch. 

 The bass fills your body with how loud it is. Amplifying how tipsy you’re getting. Four shots and two drinks down, you find yourself grinding on Nat. Her hands grip your hips as you move them. Lost in the music you look around to find Bucky and Steve across the crowd watching you.

“You know they like you, you know?” Nat’s voice is close to your ear as you giggle.

“Maybe but I assumed they were just nice, being friendly,” you reply as you turn around towards her. 

“They’ve liked you since you joined the team. If feelings are mutual, I think tonight would be good to jump on that.” Her comment was definitely an innuendo that you picked up on. 

“Yeah? I think I just might.” You say feeling the liquor gives you courage. 

“Good, because they’re coming over here.” Nat’s comment doesn’t hit you until she’s walking away and a hard body is pressed against you and Bucky is standing in front of you. 

“You having a good time doll?” Bucky asks, leaning down to speak in your ear. His breath is minty from his gum. Steve and his cologne are filling your senses causing you to melt. 

“Yeah, what about yourselves?” You ask flirting back as you dance back on Steve. Feeling more confident now that you know feelings may be mutual. 

“Better now that you’re here.” Bucky says with a smirk as his body moves with the rhythm.

“I like your outfit, you wear it just for us?” Steve’s lips brush against your ear as his hands find your bottom, lightly squeezing the soft flesh making you jump a little.

“Maybe.” Your voice is a little weak from how hot you feel. Both soldiers sandwich you making you feel turned on, warm, and dizzy. 

“You should wear more easily accessible outfits.” Steve says as his hands lightly grab your breasts. 

“Show us how you dance.” Bucky states as a new song comes on. 

You let loose, allowing their hands over you as you move your hips to the music. Bucky and Steve grinding against you as you forget there’s other people in the club. It feels like it’s just the three of you especially in the little area you guys are in. Not like anyone could notice considering most are drunk and the club is dark enough to not notice two men feeling you up.

You move your head to the side resting against Steve’s upper body, rolling your body against the two men. Steve takes advantage of this to kiss your neck as Bucky leans in close to you. At first you think he’s about to say something until he kisses you. It catches you off guard but not unwanted. Bucky deepens the kiss as you lean your body into Steve for support.

 You don’t know whose hands are which but you love it regardless. One hand finds their way between your thighs rubbing the soft flesh beforing finding the pads of their fingers on your pussy. You moan into Bucky’s mouth as you feel him smile into the kiss. The calloused fingertips aren’t too rough on you, creating circles as you grind against their hand. 

“She’s not wearing anything underneath Buck.” Steve comments as your face becomes red. 

Bucky pulls back from the kiss “No panties? You’re such a slut for us.”  

Steve removes his hand from your legs as you quickly reply, “only for my favorite men.” 

Your response creates a shared look between the two. Before you know it you’re basically being dragged by both men out of the club. 

The bedroom is semi dark besides the hallway light casting in. You can’t make out who’s room but you don’t care as your body is being ravaged by the two men. 

“Beautiful,” Steve's voice fills the air as your tits are free from the top. His mouth finds its way to suck on one while Bucky is undressing himself next to you. 

“You have a safe word, doll, don’t want to hurt you.” Bucky says as he’s now stripped to just his underwear, petting his hard-on.

“Red is fine.” You say as you become more needy just watching them.

Steve’s lips move from your nipples down to your stomach towards your pussy. He kisses the inside of your thigh, teasing you with little bites.He licks and kisses the little marks he has left before kissing your pussy. Steve’s tongue glides on your pussy. Focusing on your clit, sucking on it and creating motions with his tongue. He laps at the wetness that drips from your entrance down to your asshole. Bucky is pumping his cock as he watches his best friend eat you out. Using his precum as a lube to glide over the tip easier. 

Bucky moves next to you on the bed, now fully naked. His cock is girthy making you rethink for a second if you’ll actually need to use the safeword. He sits on his knees, making sure to get close to your head. He begins adjusting pillows behind your neck so you don’t have to strain your head or neck. Once comfortable Bucky rubs his tip over your lips. You open your mouth and Bucky takes that as a signal to slide the tip in. It feels heavy on your tongue and strains around your mouth trying to accommodate its sheer size. 

“Oh fuck.” Bucky moans under his breath as your wet mouth invites him in.

This is by far the thickest you’ve ever had, you know your jaw will be sore by the end of the night. 

You feel yourself aching from just how wet and horny you are. Bucky begins to slowly rock his hips making sure to not accidentally make you choke. Your tongue laps at the head trying to give special attention to the sensitive tip. One hand on his hip the other in your hair you let your jaw loose so he can properly use your mouth.

“That’s it, good girl.” He says moaning as he begins to feed you more of his length.

You moan around his cock as you feel fingers rub your clit down to your entrance before entering you. Even though it’s just two fingers, it’s such a relief you would be satisfied with this. Steve easily finds your g-spot and targets it. Causing you to rock against his hand. Your wetness creaming around his fingers.

“Just need to open you up so you can take us.” Steve’s comment is more than true as you look at Steve noticing how big he is as well. Not as girthy as Bucky but the length is something else, yeah you might need that safeword.

Mascara is running down your face as Bucky mocks you.

“Is it too much for you doll, you can’t handle us?” He taunts with a small smile on his face. He absolutely adores watching you being pleasured.

Steve’s movements stop for a second before you feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. You try to brace yourself for a second before you’re instantly stretched.

“Holy shit you’re tight.” Steve’s words make you clench around him. Inch by inch making you feel fuller than ever before. 

“Yeah? You like his cock baby, you just needed something to fill you up?” Bucky asks as you shake your head yes.

Steve grabs your hips to roughly use you. Watching himself as he goes in and out of your wet hole. Pulling almost all the way before quickly thrusting himself back in which makes you choke a little on Bucky. 

Bucky pulls out to let you catch your breath, “you watchin’? You see how good you make him feel?” Bucky’s words make you turn your attention to Steve abusing your hole.

“Your cunt takes him so well. You’re making his cock drown in your wetness.” Bucky’s stroking himself as you both watch Steve stretch you out. 

Bucky uses his metal arm to lean down between you and Steve to rub your clit. The cold metal makes you jump as you whine. His motions become fast as you throw out curse words from how good the combination feels. 

“You got it, pretty girl. I know you can take it.” Bucky’s words just add to the fire as he talks you through it.

“If you can’t even take this I can’t imagine how you’ll react once i'm inside you. Stevey’s just being nice.” His comment makes you open your eyes as both men are staring at you, watching you unravel in front of them. Enjoying your stained face, red cheeks, and swollen lips.

Steve begins to slowly come to stop, not to hurt you when he pulls out. 

“Face down, ass up.” Steve says as you're pulled to the edge of the bed then flipped over. 

Bucky is standing at the end of the bed, rubbing his cock over your abused hole. Taking his time teasing you, roughly spanking your ass and rubbing his cock against you.

“Remember the safe word?” Bucky asks you to make sure you know your limits as he leaves handprints on your ass cheeks.  

“Yes.” You say as you anticipate Bucky’s next move.

Steve is standing in front of you, cock in your face as he smiles down at you. Holding your cheek with one hand and stroking your face with the other. You can feel Bucky lining himself up against your hole. You look at Steve for reassurance as Bucky slowly enters you. Steve pets your head, running his hand over your hair to comfort you. 

“Oh my god.” You whimper as Bucky’s cock stretches you to your limits.

Steve takes the opportunity to guide your head to his cock as you open your mouth. His size is a little easier to take but not by much as you feel the familiar lockjaw begin to form. Your tongue sticks out to allow him to go deeper into your mouth for more pleasure. Bucky begins fucking your hole with ease. Your wetness allows him to easily use you as he pleases. You feel like you may rip apart if both men become any rougher. Bucky gripping your hips to fuck against him as Steve uses your head against him. 

“I knew she’d take us so well. She’s perfect.” Steve’s voice pipes up as if you aren’t there.

“Yeah, her holes are perfect for taking us.” Bucky grunts as he leans over to fuck you as deep as possible. 

You are the fullest you have ever been. Both holes are filled with two huge cocks by two huge men. Using you like you are nothing more than sex toy. And you absolutely love it. You enthusiastically bob your head on Steve’s cock as you feel him get sloppier with his actions. 

Bucky’s motions are more aggressive as he keeps targeting your sweet spot over and over.  You feel yourself get closer as you tighten around his cock. Bucky moves a hand down to your clit to give it much needed attention. A low vibration is applied to your clit making you moan around Steve’s cock. The pleasure of both holes being filled and your clit stimulated are making your orgasm creep closer and closer. Your cunt squeezes around Bucky even more with each thrust. 

“If you keep doing that I’m going to cum inside you, you want that?” Bucky asks as you push your ass against him. Imagining his cum filling you up almost pushes you over the edge. 

“You want our cum, want us to fill your body with our cum, fuck you until the only thing you know is our names?” Steve’s words make you feel like you’re going to explode. 

Your wetness is dripping from your hole to your clit soaking both you and Bucky. Wet sounds from your mouth and pussy fill the room as both men use your small holes for their pleasure. You rock your pussy against his hand to create even more pleasure. He lets you find your rhythm to help you reach your orgasm. Bucky makes his arm vibrate even more which creates pleasurable shocks throughout your body as you cum. It rocks through your whole lower half as you milk Bucky’s cock for his cum. Bucky and Steve aren’t far behind you as they cum. Bucky pulls out cumming onto your back as Steve shoots down your throat which you swallow happily.

“Now you can say you’ve had a threesome.” Bucky says jokingly as he falls onto the bed beside you and Steve.

[purlturtle]

Shoot your shot!

"Holy smokes, Mykes, d'you see that hot lady at the fountain?"

Myka blinked, looked at Pete, craned her neck to look around herself - but there was just the one fountain; this had to be the one Pete meant. And there was only one person busying herself at said fountain.

Helena.

Myka knew Pete thought that Helena was hot - of course she knew; everybody knew. Pete was... pretty indiscriminate with his attributions of hotness. Steve got them, Claudia got them until she put a stop to them (and good for her, Myka thought), Myka herself had gotten them. And okay, right before going on that runway in New York she'd needed it, but after that? She'd put the kibosh on that pretty quickly. Steve was too polite to comment, and Helena?

Myka would bet a pretty penny, or a cleanly handsome twenty dollar bill, that Pete was scared to bring any potential attributions of hotness he felt for Helena to Helena's attention.

So why had he-?

He was grinning, and mugging furious, nodding his head towards Helena in... encouragement?

Myka looked back towards the fountain; Helena had finished refilling her water bottle and was now drinking from it. Head tilted back, one more shirt button open than strictly necessary (as per usual), one hand elegantly holding the stainless steel bottle, the other stemmed at her waist, she cut a- yes, a hot silhouette, Myka had to admit. The way Helena's throat moved as she drank, the fact that a droplet of either water or sweat was making its merry way down her cleavage-

"I'm gonna ask her on a date," Myka said decisively, then gave Pete a grin halfway between triumphant and nervous.

"Atta girl," Pete exclaimed, and held up a hand for a high-five. "Go shoot your shot!"

Myka made her way over to Helena, not caring to quieten her approach. When she was only a few steps away, Helena let the bottle sink, turned to Myka, and gave her a very slow, very appreciative once-over.

"Fancy meeting you here," she drawled, corners of her mouth twitching as she suppressed a smile, but otherwise the picture of ardent interest.

Myka did her best to play along, but pickup lines had never been her forte. Then again, she knew for a fact that Helena liked a direct approach. "You're really cute. Wanna go out with me?"

Helena's eyebrows rose, and so did the corners of her mouth. Again, her gaze trawled lazily down and back up Myka's body. When her eyes met Myka's again, the smirk persisted. "Happily," she replied, head cocked in invitation.

Myka couldn't help the smile that bloomed on her face. She quickly schooled her face back into a cooler mien; it wouldn't do to appear too eager - but then, eager she was, charade or not. And Helena knew it, but still. It didn't really fit the scene, did it.

"I'll pick you up at-?" Myka left the question hanging; she might not have the best pickup lines, but once communication was established, she was usually good and smooth.

"Five," Helena replied immediately. "I'll be done at five."

"I'll be there," Myka nodded, and gave Helena the smile she knew Helena liked so much; the one where she lifted just the one corner of her mouth. Bingo, she thought when she got a smoldering smirk in return.

"Until then," Helena nodded, twisted the cap back onto her water bottle, and headed back into the stacks.

"Ayooo, Mykes!" Pete shouted, grinning like the blazes and both hands up for more high-fiving. "You got game, lady!"

Myka hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and sauntered back to him. "I know," she drawled, in her best Leia Organa imitation, and then gave in to the high-five invitation.

"You'd never know that was your wife."

She socked him for that, but she grinned while she did so, and so did he.

Helena was her wife. And Myka had a date with her after work.

Life was good.

-_-_-

insp.

[4haechie]

spell it out

➵ request: can i request for a (light-ish) angst w/happy ending (or like fluff but w/ jealousy idk does that make sense?? for 6 + 1 + 17? thank you so much!!! -💙

➵ lee donghyuck x reader | fluff, comedy (?), hogwarts au, enemies to lovers au | 2,773 words | “you’re the single most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

➵ warnings: swearing (shouldn’t even be a warning anymore. i curse like a sailor)

➵ a/n: ur the sweetest little bean, 💙 anon! i hope u like this <3 also, this is written in donghyuck’s pov :D

want to request? check this post out!

“i don’t know what’s so great about him, anyway. like, okay, he’s taller than me. maybe even a little stronger and buffer? but he doesn’t know the first thing about y/n.”

renjun groans for the nth time during lunch. “donghyuck, my dude, let it go. it’s not like they’re dating.” he butters his croissant before adding, “and it’s not like you two are dating either,” with a not-so-subtle wiggle of his eyebrows.

donghyuck glares daggers at his best friend. “shut up, huang!” then, he goes back to sulking.

it’s been like this for a few weeks now, ever since you became all buddy-buddy with one of the students from the visiting school. donghyuck is not jealous, don’t get him wrong. he’s angry because he’s your one and only enemy. but here you are, competing in all sorts of lame contests with the new guy when that’s something you and donghyuck do–or did.

he watches from the other side of the slytherin table as you and the new guy compete to see who could fit the most number of marshmallows in their mouths. donghyuck rolls his eyes, “losers.”

renjun’s ears perk up, “if you’re so pissed, then maybe do something about it? do you know how annoying it is to watch you complain loudly?”

“do you know how annoying it is to watch someone steal your enemy away from you?”

“yeah, i was pretty mad at y/n for stealing you away from me when we were twelve.”

“exactly my point!”

renjun flicks his friend’s forehead and gets up to leave for the next lesson. “c’mon, loverboy, it’s potions time.”

/

donghyuck reads the instructions, once, twice, three times, before tossing the necessary ingredients into the cauldron. today, the wizards are required to make any potion of their choice, test to see if it works, as well as say why they chose it.

donghyuck chooses to make liquid luck, just because he’s made it before and is confident in brewing it. he stirs the mixture in the cauldron, making sure it’s perfect, before scooping some up and pouring it into a flask. he labels it with his name and house, and raises his hand.

“yes, mr lee?” the professor says.

“i’m done with my potion, sir,” he says a little smugly and glances at you, at the front of the class. you’re already looking at him when you mouth ‘fuck you’.

he smirks; bet you don’t do that with your new “friend”, do you?

“may i know what you have brewed over there, mr lee?”

“of course, sir. i made felix felicis,” donghyuck announces proudly.

“wonderful! now, test it out to see if it works,” the professor says.

“um, sir, i can’t exactly–” donghyuck protests.

“oh, that’s right...its effects won’t be seen immediately. but i know you’ve probably done a good job since you’re not new to felix felicis. tell me why you’ve chosen it, mr lee.” the professor tugs on the string of his reading glasses hanging around his neck.

“oh, yeah, of course. um, i just have the most confidence in making it. i’m not new to it like you said.” donghyuck says.

the professor sighs. “very well. who else is done?”

“i am!” you beam, with a hand raised.

donghyuck watches keenly as you finish stirring the liquid in your cauldron.

“what have you made, y/n?” the professor inquires.

“amortentia.”

the class goes pin-drop silent. no one ever brews the love potion unless they want to confess to their loved one or check to see who loves them. why did you decide to make amortentia? donghyuck prays to all the gods out there that you didn’t make it for the new guy. donghyuck has known you since you were both twelve–he knows pretty much every single thing about you (the new guy doesn’t, but that’s irrelevant), but he has no clue why you chose to brew amortentia. he definitely can’t ask you right now. he figures you’ll tell the professor some lame excuse, and he’ll have to find out by asking you while everyone’s distracted.

“i beg your pardon?”

“amortentia, sir. the strongest love potion in existence,” you say confidently. donghyuck now, for sure, knows you’re up to something.

“i’m not going to ask you to consume it, as that would simply be too risky. why have you made amortentia, young wizard?” the professor walks over to you and takes a look at your potion. he seems to be satisfied by its appearance and aroma.

“i’ve never made it before, so i wanted to give it a shot. i added all the necessary ingredients and stirred it the right amount of times. i think i did well, professor.” you insist.

the professor nods and goes over to examine the other students’ potions.

donghyuck gets up, brushes his hands over his robes and walks towards where you’re seated. he gives the new guy, who’s sitting right beside you, a look of pure loathing, but gives you a slight upturn of the lips. “hey, y/n.”

you give him one look and start writing your report. the class is noisy and the professor isn’t paying donghyuck any attention. “why did you make amortentia–really?” he bends down a little so that he’s eye level with you.

you glance at him again, “why do you care?”

donghyuck rolls his eyes, “y/n, i want to know.”

you exhale. “because i needed to know something.”

“know what?”

you push your chair out and stand up to face donghyuck. you’re nose-to-nose now, and donghyuck has a perfect view of all your features. not that he cares. he also catches the scent of your sweet-smelling lip balm–again, not that he cares.

“donghyuck, what do you smell?”

“what kind of a question is that?”

you clench your fists and huff out a breath. “you’re the single most annoying person i’ve ever met,” you say as if that clears up everything.

the professor, upon ensuring every wizard performed well in potions, dismisses all of them back to their respective common rooms. even though donghyuck leaves you alone after that, why can he still smell the sweet, annoying scent of your lip balm all the way here, in his room?

/

“i’m going crazy, man.”

renjun shoves his friend away from his desk. the moon shines brightly outside their dorm room’s window, the sky is a navy blue colour, and renjun is busy working on an assignment for defence against the dark arts. but of course, donghyuck isn’t going to let him without ranting about you first.

renjun takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, counts to ten, and spins his chair to face donghyuck, who’s sat on the edge of his own bed now. “i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this is about y/n.” donghyuck nods sadly and renjun almost feels sorry for the guy. “is this about what happened in potions earlier? look, you know y/n’s obsessed with that lip balm. maybe it’s really strong-scented? you don’t have any proof that it’s because of the amortentia.”

donghyuck groans at the sound of the cursed potion. he didn’t even ingest it, but just standing next to it was enough to fill his stomach up for a lifetime.

“i guess you’re right. y/n always wears that lip balm, but it was super strong today,” donghyuck falls on his bed, closing his eyes as if in deep thought. he gets up suddenly, “wait! if y/n made amortentia to check something...” he trails off, lost in thought. donghyuck groans again and paces around the room.

“donghyuck, do you really hate y/n?” renjun asks.

donghyuck doesn’t have the courage to answer. he simply sighs and crawls into bed, tucking himself under the covers. he falls asleep watching the shimmering moon that night.

/

“today, you’ll be learning the disarming spell! it’s very commonly used in battle, so it’s a useful skill, nonetheless,” the defence against the dark arts professor says, walking on the small runway situated between the two rows of students. “the spell might seem simple, but you have to concentrate. you have to focus on your opponent’s weapon only. it’s very easy to get distracted while trying to disarm the other, so focus, and you shall be victorious.”

donghyuck glances across the runway and his eyes find yours in the crowd. you raise an eyebrow and point at him with your index finger, before retracting the same hand and jutting the thumb out, dragging it across your neck threateningly. donghyuck scoffs.

“now, watch closely, students. huang renjun, come up here. he’ll be my example.” the professor beams at renjun and pulls out her wand, renjun following suit. he stands his guard as the professor chants, “expelliarmus.” she points her wand at renjun’s and it goes flying out of his hand. renjun lets out an airy laugh, and upon receiving an okay sign from the professor, he collects his fallen wand and goes back to his place in the crowd.

“ten points to slytherin! oh, and you’re going to work in partners.” the professor says, smiling brightly as if this is a party and not a magical defence class. “you may challenge someone to a duel or–!”

“i challenge lee donghyuck to a duel!” you shout, your voice echoing in the defeaning silence that follows your sentence.

donghyuck winces, but manages to regather himself and nod at you. “bring it on, y/l/n.”

you chuckle and gesture at him to join you on the runway. the professor steps down as donghyuck climbs up. you stand a few feet in front of him, in position, wand raised. donghyuck doesn’t even have time to blink before you cast the spell. “expelliarmus!” you chant without hesitating, and his wand gets knocked out of his hands, clattering against the floor of the runway. you smirk and blow air at the tip of your wand.

donghyuck looks at you sheepishly before grabbing his wand and heading straight to renjun. his eyes drift to where you’re standing again, but this time they see the new guy closer to you than ever. he’s saying something, whispering something in your ear, and you’re laughing. laughing because of what he said. donghyuck grinds his teeth and glares at the floor.

“what the fuck was that?” his friend shoves him.

donghyuck groans, “i don’t know!”

/

later that day, donghyuck runs into you at the common room.

“oh, hey, y/n.” donghyuck glances around the room. no new guy in sight. that’s odd since you've been joined at the hip with him ever since he arrived. you guys must’ve been surgically separated, huh.

“he’s not here. he’s leaving tomorrow night, so he wanted to check the school out. you know, explore and stuff.” you say, making him widen his eyes in surprise.

“who?”

“don’t play dumb, lee. i know you don’t like the new guy.”

he feigns a look of hurt and clasps a hand over his mouth in a silent gasp, “why would i ever hate that guy?”

you roll your eyes and walk to lean against the back of the leather couch. “i don’t know? but i’ve seen the way you look at him. it’s okay, by the way. i don’t care. he’s nice, but he’s...not my type.”

he takes a few steps and stands in front of you. “then who’s your type?”

you look into his eyes as if trying to communicate through them. “donghyuck,” you pause, and for a second he thinks that’s your answer, but you continue speaking. “what did you smell? when i made amortentia?”

donghyuck gulps, “i–uh, peach lip balm.”

the corner of your mouth lifts to a smirk. “do you know anybody who wears peach lip balm?” you inch closer, decreasing the proximity between the two of you to mere centimetres. donghyuck’s eyes momentarily flicker to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“i–!”

“what are you two doing up so late?” renjun enters the scene with an amused expression on his face. he looks at you two like one watches a tennis match, and his lips are drawn to a smug upturn. “what’s going on here?”

when you don’t answer, donghyuck clears his throat, “we were just talking about–uh, what we learnt today.”

renjun doesn’t look impressed. “right, and i was discussing strategies on how to become headmaster with mark at the library. no, seriously, it’s almost midnight and it’s just the two of you here.”

donghyuck glares at the boy, “fuck off, renjun!”

renjun throws his hands up defensively, “alright, alright. but hurry up, okay? i need your help with the potions assignment.” he’s about to leave when you call out his name.

“renjun, what were you doing here so late?”

he whips his head around, “well, i was at the library with mark. but we weren’t discussing strategies on how to become headmaster. we were just looking at some ancient spell books,” he says, and walks away to his dorm.

you cross your arms over your chest. “so, where were we?”

donghyuck presses his lips together for a second. “i asked you who your type was?”

“nice try, lee. but, seriously, do you know anyone who wears peach lip balm?”

donghyuck clenches his fists. “y/n, fucking hell. you! you wear that stupid peach lip balm. you made that stupid amortentia and i smelled your stupid peach lip balm. you probably smelled whatever cheap cologne the new guy wears, anyway. so why does it matter?” donghyuck heaves a sigh and is about to back away from you when you tug on his sweater.

“wait.”

donghyuck glances at you, “what?”

“i, um, didn’t smell anything that’s to do with the new guy.” you tug on your lower lip, unsure of how to put your thoughts into coherent words, but donghyuck focuses on the fact that you’re calling the new guy “new guy” instead of his name.

“then?”

you’re tongue-tied, but you manage to sputter out a few words. “i smelled lavender-scented fabric softeners and chocolate.” you look up at him through your eyelashes.

his heart stops beating. his brain melts into a puddle of goo. his organs stop working, his nerve endings go haywire. he’s frozen, a block of ice. he’s not even able to comprehend your words. you...smelled...him?

donghyuck’s favourite fabric softener is scented with lavender and his favourite food is anything chocolate. he makes sure to use the fabric softener for his uniforms, sweaters, pants–pretty much all his clothes. and he’s pretty much always munching on those blasted chocolate frogs whilst trying to collect all the best cards.

“y/n...” he says. that’s all; just your name.

you remove your hand from his sleeve and use it to push your hair back. “yeah,” you whisper. “it’s getting late. i better get to bed,” you step away from him.

“no, wait!”

you turn back around, eyebrow raised.

“what does this mean for us?”

you exhale, “it means whatever you want it to mean. you smelled my peach lip balm. i smelled your fabric softener. it’s a lot for me to take in. but that’s amortentia, i guess. tells you what you’re really feeling, without even saying anything.”

“y/n, i want it to mean this. i want it to mean that we can be together. we don’t have to be enemies any more. i...i like you, y/n. and seeing you with that guy, all happy and having fun–it made me,” donghyuck closes his eyes, “jealous. i’ll admit it, but if that’s who you wanna be with, then i can’t decide–!”

“you idiot! you absolute loser!” you exclaim, taking angry steps and landing in front of donghyuck. you push him back, causing his lower back to crash against the back of the sofa. “you’re so fucking annoying.”

“gee, uh, thanks...”

“shut up! god, do i have to spell it out for you? fine!”

donghyuck’s in a pure state of shock when he feels your soft lips on his, slowly kissing him, while also trying to knock some sense into him. he doesn’t waste any more time; he kisses you back just as slowly and carefully. he smiles when the familiar peach scent embraces him. you pull away first, but your angry demeanour seems to have washed away.

“thanks for spelling it out for me,” donghyuck circles his arms around your waist.

you reach to loop your hands around his neck and smile. “you’re most welcome, lee.”

/

(donghyuck’s hand never leaves yours the entire way to quidditch practice.

“what the fuck are you guys doing?” renjun gawks at your interlocked fingers.

“what does it look like we’re doing?” you ask, tip-toeing to press a kiss against donghyuck’s cheek.

“i could’ve gone my entire life without seeing that.”)

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 47 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Violet bombed her design pitch, and Adore and Pearl broke up.

This Chapter: Violet gets a lovely surprise, Aiden gets angrier, and Courtney comforts a friend.

***

“So,” Fame looked over at Raja, leaning back on the green velvet couch. “What do we think?”

Ivy had come by with lunch, two salad containers now sitting half empty on the table. They had received printouts from Ivy with the original couture sketches, whatever samples the designers had handed them, and polaroids of the garments as they looked today.

“About the couture looks?” Raja smiled. They were talking about the Spring collection, but Raja was also finalizing the dresses and roles for Monday’s holiday collection showroom show.

“Mmh,” Fame nodded, fiddling with her thumb, the edge of her manicure looking like it was cracking.

“Who do we want this on?” Raja held up one of Kiara’s holiday designs, the dress a lovely red. “I’m thinking blonde?”

“Good call.” Fame smiled, that particular dress without a doubt ending up in Chad Michaels’ closet. It always got Fame in the best of moods to watch Raja work, her friend at her very best when she was pulling final styles together, her eye for the entire picture unmatched.

“We still need a holiday dress for Raven,” Raja smiled, holding up her fiance's headshot. “Opening or close?”

“Who says she’s getting either?” Fame teased, a laugh leaving her when Raja shot her a look. “I want her closing. She does that very well. Makes everyone feel like spending money.”

“Mmh,” Raja smirked, a proud expression on her face, putting Raven with one of the prettiest dresses in the bunch. It was weirdly romantic how Raja always looked out for Raven, though Fame was sure she’d deny it if she was ever confronted directly.

“Okay,” Raja sat back on the couch, putting her elbow on the back, golden bracelets clacking on her wrist as she rested her head on her hand. “What’s the verdict for couture?”

“Hmm,” Fame chewed her lip, flicking through the folder on her lap. “I think Alexis should open. This sky-inspired piece of hers,” Fame pulled the sketch out, “is lovely.”

“I agree.” Raja nodded.  “And closing?”

There were several to choose from, but if Fame was being honest, there was only one that made sense for her.

“What about Violet’s?”

“Violet’s?” Raja sounded genuinely surprised, her eyes widening. “I thought you hated it?”

“What? Why?”

“Because you cut her off?”

“Raj, please,” Fame rolled her eyes. “She was talking my ear off, explaining all these incredibly unnecessary details when her work clearly spoke for itself. It’s very unbecoming to need that much reassurance of a job well done.” Fame pulled Violet’s dress from the folder, the flared sleeve and horizontal beads exactly what Fame wanted.

“Aha.”

“Good.” Fame put it down on the table, not noticing the small smile on Raja’s lips. “We’ll email everyone, and start looking for our exclusive models if we need anyone from overseas-” Fame paused. “Hold on. I have to call Courtney. This manicure is driving me absolutely crazy.”

***

It was always a rare relief when Fame decided to go into Raja’s office for a meeting rather than the other way around, and today was one of those lovely days, Ivy taking care of everything they needed and urging her to go take a real lunch break while she had the chance, that she’d call her back if necessary.

Which for Courtney meant a visit to her favorite department at Galactica: makeup. It was incredible how just walking into their suite made her whole body relax, the bright and sunny creative energy something she absolutely craved. Even the way people dressed was better down here: bright colors and fun patterns and hair every color in the rainbow. Alaska gave her a warm welcome as always, inviting her to sit down and eat with them, even sharing some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, which was a very nice addition to Courtney’s own sad little garden salad.

“You know,” Kim said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as she took in Courtney’s face, eyes squinted as if imagining the way the colors would look, “the Spring Rain palette would look amazing on you.”

“Omigod, it so would! Let’s try it out!” cried Amy, clapping her hands. Amy was the department’s coordinator, and Courtney hadn’t spoken to her much, but based on her electric-blue pigtails and ruffly Lolita dress, she knew she liked her.

“Whaddaya say, Court? Wanna be a canvas for a bit?” Alaska asked.

“Sure!”

Soon, Courtney was sitting in a director’s chair as Kim and Amy went to town on her face.

“Are your eyes green or blue?” Kim asked, tilting her chin this way and that in the bright light.

“Green. But I think in some lights they look blue.”

“Yeah, this cerulean is really picking that up.”

“Try adding a bit of the peacock,” Amy suggested.

“Yes! Good call!” Kim said, picking up the palette again.

Courtney closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of brushes being swiped against her skin, Kim’s movements both precise and certain. It was awhile before Courtney felt any urge to speak again, asking a question that had been on her mind for awhile.

“Um...do you guys know Bianca Del Rio?”

“No, I wish!” Kim chuckled. “She’s such a badass.”

“We have mutual friends. Why?” Alaska smiled curiously, and Courtney suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.

“Well...I don’t know, I was just wondering what you think of her.”

“She’s everything I want to be when I grow up,” Amy piped up, swatching a few lip colors on Courtney’s arm. “She’s supposedly a real ball-buster, but my friend at Marie-Claire says she’s a decent boss. At least, people like working for her.”

“That’s cool,” Courtney said, biting her lip, cheeks growing hot under the lights as she worked up the nerve to ask what she really wanted to know. “What about, um...her...dating history. She’s gone out with a lot of girls, huh?”

“Yeah...she has,” Alaska replied slowly, exchanging a look with Kim as Amy stepped up to apply the chosen lipstick.

Kim waved a pair of lashes in the air, waiting for the glue to become tacky.

“The thing about Bianca is…” Alaska paused, seemed unsure of whether she should continue, before saying, “She’s not really into relationships. She just doesn’t ever seem to want more than flings. I mean, we’ve crossed paths dozens of times over the years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her with the same girl twice.”

“Oh.” Courtney nodded, settling back while Kim applied her lashes, wondering why her heart was pounding so fast.

“But that said, I mean...she does seem to treat people pretty well. You certainly never see girls crying about her in the tabloids, which I think says a lot, considering her...volume.”

“It helps that she’s apparently god-level in bed,” Amy giggled.

“Don’t trust the rumors,” Alaska warned.

“Well, I’ve heard it from someone first-hand, so…” Amy trailed off, giving a suggestive wink before reaching forward to finish the look with a delicate, shell-pink lip gloss, as Courtney tried her best not to squirm in her seat.

“Umm...anyway…” Alaska began awkwardly, when loud buzzing from the table interrupted. “Oh, Court, it’s Fame.”

Alaska handed her the phone, the usual seizing of Courtney’s stomach whenever her boss called telling her that the fun was over.

“Hello?”

“Courtney. I’m done with Raja, and my thumbnail is chipped.”

“Ye-”

Fame hung up before Courtney could respond, leaving her slightly puzzled.

“Thanks guys, this was super fun,” she said, sliding off the chair and grabbing her handbag, knowing she’d be expected to send a memo to design right away, along with apparently finding a manicurist to come to the office? Maybe?

“Wait!” Kim cried, holding up a lighted mirror for her to see the whole look.

“Wow.”

It was certainly a lot more colorful and dramatic than the makeup Courtney normally wore, and for a split second, she let herself imagine that she was backstage getting ready to perform, or on the set of some glamorous photo shoot, before pushing those silly fantasies down and giving Kim a grateful smile.

“Thanks, really, you guys are awesome,” Courtney said, internally lamenting the fact that she had to leave this colorful and fun office to go back to the stark white institutional tension upstairs.

***

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: (undisclosed)

Subject: Spring Runway Selection

MEMO TO GALACTICA DESIGN AND TAILORING DEPARTMENTS

FROM THE OFFICE OF MISS FAME

Please find attached the selected looks for the opening and closing of the Spring runway show, along with the alternates that we are keeping in the show, placement TBD.

Additionally, make sure to note the following upcoming deadlines in relation to the Spring couture collection:

December 5, 7 pm - submission for the rest of the Spring couture runway looks

December 11, 7 pm - final revised Spring couture submissions

December 12 - Selection of final couture looks/alternates

December 14 - Individual designer meetings with tailoring dept

December 18, 11 am - First fitting

January 11, 11 am - Second fitting

***

“Oh...“ Violet couldn’t believe it.

She had clicked on the placement, hoping that her dress would be in there somewhere, Trixie’s promise that nothing would get scrapped completely not enough to reassure her, but there it was, in black and white.

Her first couture look for Galactica was closing the fucking Spring show.

“Holy shit-” Violet whispered, the information not sinking in at all.

She had been chosen, she had done well, she was making the company proud.

Violet was just about to panic, everything so overwhelming, when a second email ticked in.

From: Courtney A. Jenek To: Violet Chachki

Subject: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

OMG ALKDJALSKDJALDJ IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU!!!11 AKFJSALKFJASLKFJALFSD CONGRATS!!!!!!!111

Violet snorted, Courtney’s excitement radiating through the screen, that message somehow making it real.

From: Violet Chachki To: Courtney A. Jenek Subject: Re: Fwd: Spring Runway Selection

Thanks

***

Aiden closed the door to Trixie’s office firmly behind him, using all the strength in his body not to slam it with full force. He briefly imagined how good it would feel, to be able to make the walls vibrate with all of the rage he felt inside. Instead, he swallowed down all the bitterness and headed to his desk.

It had been an awful meeting, Trixie pulling his typical nice guy act to say that he was “concerned” about Aiden’s “attitude” and wanted to make sure that he was gonna be the right fit for the Galactica team long-term. That he wanted to see more collaboration with the other designers, and as a learning experience, he should be prepared on Monday to assist backstage for the Holiday collection show.

Assist.

Aiden was a designer, not a fucking tailor, not a fucking assistant, and this was going to be a new low. Not to mention that he was already in a foul mood, having seen the selection for the opening and closing Spring runway looks. That new little brat, the baby with no experience, not like Aiden, had been chosen to close the show.

He sat at his chair for almost a minute, saying nothing, just breathing deeply. Before Kiara asked, “Everything alright, dude?”

“Oh yeah. Everything is fucking great!” Aiden snapped, not bothering to stay and take in the stricken look on her face before getting up and marching to the restrooms, where he could at least lock himself in a stall and get a tiny minute of peace and quiet.

***

“Omigod, I’m so happy to see you!” Adore exclaimed, pulling Courtney inside her apartment, over to the sofa. “I stole a bunch of alcohol from Bianca before I left, so I’m well stocked! What do you want?”

“Gin and tonic?” Courtney asked, taking off her coat and settling down against the plush velvety purple fabric of Adore’s sofa.

“Coming right up, ma’am!” Adore exclaimed, walking over to the open kitchen to pour Courtney’s drink.

“So, you seem...how are you?” Courtney ventured, knowing that Adore was probably still in a fragile state, but not wanting to destroy what seemed like a decent mood.

“Well you know… It’s been shit. But I stayed with B all week and she’s like, kinda the best in this situation. She didn’t even gloat over being right.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. I’m glad she took care of you.”

Adore set Courtney’s glass down.

“Yeah, it was nice.”

There was a firm knock on the door, and Adore jumped up again, running to answer.

“Pizza’s here!”

“Pizza?”

“Yeah, I ordered ahead because I knew you’d be working late and you probably haven’t had a real meal all--thank you!” She closed the door, carrying the boxes and a bag over to the coffee table and setting it down with a smile.

It was such a sweet gesture, and Courtney was truly starving, so she almost felt bad reminding Adore, “Um...I’m still doing that vegan thing, remember?”

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, I totally forgot, I-” Adore bit her lip, looking more distraught than was probably necessary, given the circumstances.

“It’s okay, I’ll just pull off the cheese, don’t worry!” Courtney reassured her.

“But you’ve told me like a billion times and I keep forgetting and I’m just the worst friend ever,” Adore sniffled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Baby, it’s okay, really.” Courtney crawled over to Adore, hugging her tightly.

“It’s not. I got you a kale caesar salad too because I know you used to like those but that’s not vegan either. God, what is wrong with my stupid brain?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. You’re human, you make mistakes. It was still so nice of you to get all this.” Courtney pressed a kiss to her temple. “And you know what? I’ve been so strict for a few weeks, I think it’s okay to have one cheat day.”

“Are you sure? We can order Chinese or Thai if you want, or there’s-”

“I’m sure. I came here to try and cheer you up. Not to make you feel guilty.” Courtney snuggled against her, head on her shoulder.

“Okay. We can postmates some vegan gelato for dessert.”

“Perfect.”

Adore sighed, leaning her head against Courtney’s for a moment before sitting up and opening the food. Courtney accepted the plate from her, pulling the cheese off her pizza and shaking up the caesar salad - she decided that she could handle the dressing if she omitted the little container of parmesan.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Courtney looked up at Adore and asked, “Do you want my cheese?”

Adore’s eyes widened, looking down at her plate.

“Yes!”

She took it with such enthusiasm that it made Courtney laugh.

“Was this the plan all along?”

“I wish. I’m not that smart,” Adore told her.

“Yeah you are. You’re very smart. You’re the best.”

Adore held her gaze for a few moments, eyes welling up before the tears spilled down her cheeks. She covered her face, and Courtney shoved the plates aside, laying Adore’s head down in her lap.

Courtney stroked her hair for awhile, letting her cry, not saying anything, tears soaking into her skirt and tights. When her sniffling finally subsided, she asked, “So on a scale of 1 to 10...how much do we hate her?”

Adore rubbed her red, swollen eyes. “That’s the hardest part. I don’t really hate her at all. I mean, I asked her to be honest with me, and she was, and...it just wasn’t what I wanted to hear. So...no, I don’t hate her. It would be too exhausting to hate her.”

Courtney took her hand, holding it tight and solemnly saying, “Okay. Then I’ll hate her for you. So you don’t have to.”

Adore’s face crumbled as her tears began falling again.

“You’re the best friend in the world.”

“No, you are,” Courtney said with a grin. “Come on, let’s go wash your face and order that gelato!”

***

“I just can’t believe that my dress is going out on that runway, like, I was so sure Fame absolutely hated it, and-”

“You don’t need to chop the parsley that finely lovely eyes,” Sutan smiled, stirring the pasta puttanesca sauce they had made together. Sutan wasn’t necessarily the best cook in the world, neither he or Raja ever really picking up on their mothers love of spending time in the kitchen, but he could do a few dishes well, and after seeing Violet’s fridge, he had made it a mission to make sure his girlfriend had a minimum of culinary experience.

“Oh,” Violet paused, looking down at the cutting board. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sutan pressed a quick kiss against her temple, standing side by side in the kitchen surprisingly nice. “I know it’ll be just as amazing as your holiday dress.”

“Please,” Violet smiled, though Sutan could see on her face that she was pleased. He wasn’t going to buy anything at the show, but he was still coming along, both to test one of his newer models, but also because he wanted to see what Violet had created in action.

“I’m serious.”

The sauce was almost done, Violet pulling a face when she had seen him slice up the anchovies, but Sutan was pretty sure that she’d like the dish, if what she tended to gravitate towards could be used as any indication.

“Would you mind setting the table?”

“Not at all,” Violet smiled, putting the knife down, quickly washing her fingers, her jewelry left in the little bowl by the sink that Raja and sometimes Raven had used when they all lived together.

Sutan hadn’t actually noticed it until Violet had dumped her rings into it, the fact that it was there completely escaping his attention, interior design never something that had interested him.

When he had gotten married to Kahmora, he had moved from this apartment directly into her place and back again after their divorce, how she wanted things decorated not anything that had mattered to him in the short time they had been married.

He had never really lived with Jinkx, their relationship thankfully never moving any further than their disastrous engagement, but he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have been asked about his preferences, shame momentarily curling in his belly at the thought of how unfair and terrible he had been to Jinkx.

“Sutan?” He was pulled out of his thoughts by Violet’s voice, the woman standing by his cabinet with a smile on her face. “Did you buy wine? To have with dinner?”

“I got us a bottle of red.”

“Okay,” Violet nodded, grabbing the wine glasses from the shelf. Juju used to complain when she came over, and had told both Raja and Sutan multiple times that the apartment was furnished for giants, but Violet never had trouble getting anything.

Sutan’s alarm went off, telling him it was time to drain the pasta, Violet handing him two plates so he could serve up their meal, both of them sitting down at the table.

“Do you like it?” Sutan smiled as he watched Violet taste the food, a thoughtful expression on her face as she chewed on it.

“It’s fine.”

“So you hate it?” Sutan lifted an eyebrow, a smirk on his face.

“No!” Violet seemed outraged. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” Violet kicked him under the table, smiling now. “It’s nice.”

“Sure,” Sutan laughed, Violet’s deadpan deliveries still something he was getting used to, her dry humor a lot more enjoyable than he had ever imagined. “Good.”

They ate for a while, chatting back and forth, Sutan refilling their glasses, Violet almost finished with her pasta when she put down her fork.

“I-” Violet looked at him, her teeth biting into her lip. “I’ve been thinking about Aspen?”

“Yes?”

“And I’d like to go.”

“Oh?” Sutan wasn’t aware that it had been something she had been considering, the fact that she was even thinking about turning it down not even crossing his mind.

“Well I’m glad.” Sutan smiled, hiding his confusion. “Mostly because I already booked your plane ticket.”

“Really?” Violet sounded genuinely surprised, almost as if she wasn’t sure if he had been serious about the offer.

“Really, not that I would have forced you to come.” Sutan tapped her foot under the table, Violet still such a mystery to him. “Raven on the other hand,” Sutan smiled. “That could have been a problem, since she’s bought matching everything for you two.”

“... What?”

***

ADORE: Courtney’s a vegan, you know.

BIANCA: Yeah, she told me.

ADORE: I keep forgetting like an asshole so I just wanted to make sure you knew and would have some vegan stuff on thurs

BIANCA: It’s gonna be 100% vegan, I hired a chef to cater. She even making vegan relleno de pavo

ADORE: WAIT WHAT

ADORE: How the FUCK do you make vegan relleno de pavo?

BIANCA: I dunno, but she’s a professional.

ADORE: And what about the corn pudding? IT NEEDS BUTTER

BIANCA: Would you relax? It’ll be delicious

ADORE: WHAT ABOUT THE TURKEY

BIANCA: I don’t eat turkey. You’re outvoted 2 to 1.

ADORE: BIANCA DEL RIO I’VE HAD A VERY TRAUMATIC WEEK! IT’S THANKSGIVING! TURKEY!

BIANCA: I’ll get you a package of fucking Hillshire Farm, calm down

ADORE: I want to be mad at that but I love Hillshire Farm. lol

BIANCA: You’re welcome

BIANCA: Btw you’re also welcome to cook whatever you like and contribute to the meal

ADORE: Um...no thanks

BIANCA: Thought so, cunt

[jadekitty777]

Snapshot Aesthetics

OKAY BUT FG WEEKEND? WHO’S CRAZY IDEA WAS THAT.

You better know I want to participate though xD I didn’t plan to have an entry for today but, well, things change lol

Day 1: Outfits

Rating: K

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Clover's job was simple: Get the model to pose properly, smile, and take the shot. But the new hire, Qrow, was about to throw a wrench into that simplicity... in more ways than one. [Fashion Model AU]

Ao3 Link: Snapshot Aesthetics

~

Snap!

The sound of his camera shutter going off was almost inaudible under the early morning hustle that had overtaken the studio. Clover inspected the shot of Elm displaying back on his LCD screen. He shook his head, calling to the stagehand, “Lower the forelights! There’s too much washout!”

“You got it boss.” She saluted, stepping off the scene to go tinker with the fluorescents.

Th telltale sound of stilettos had his head turning, seeing Willow striding over, lips pursed with annoyance. “Are we ready yet?”

“Almost.” He assured, showing her the picture. “Just a bit more tweaking on the lights and we’ll be good to go.”

She placed a hand on her hip, scanning the team critically. “Good.”

“Everything alright? You look…” He mulled over all his safe adjective options, “Unhappy.”

She sighed exasperatedly. “Qrow is causing a bit of a ruckus back in dress. Won’t let Kali even do his makeup.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know what I was thinking, listening to Taiyang.”

“It’s probably because the new guy’s pretty.” And related to Raven, he thought but didn’t dare utter the runway model’s name aloud. If he did, then it would make his manager think of her ex-husband and Raven’s agent, Jacques Schnee. That was a nasty pandora’s box he’d rather keep closed.

Nevertheless, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time she hired someone simply based on an affiliation they had to someone in Jacques’ team, thinking it as some retroactive way of getting back at him. Taiyang himself was one such decision, also ironically due his connection with Raven. Though, he’d heard the two’s relationship had been more… carnal in nature.

The plus was, Taiyang had worked out great. He was handsome and jovial and easy to direct on set. Clover’s only hope when he learned of the new hire was that the same could be said for Qrow; but, it was sounding like he had his twin sister’s notorious diva-like personality, if Willow’s frustration was anything to go by. Which meant he was in for a long day.

“Light check!” Elm called, flexing both arms proudly like a muscle builder.

He snapped the shot, then nodded at the quality. “Perfect!”

Willow swiveled, heading for the door. “Let’s get started then.”

~

Over the course of the seven years Clover had worked for Trendy magazine, he’d discovered that each fashion designer had a specific ‘taste’ they were going for when it came to showing off their line-up and he’d learned to pose the models accordingly to keep their clients happy and coming back for each issue. So, he kept certain things in mind with each designer’s desires, like how Sienna preferred her poses to be as dynamic and wild as possible and Camilla wanted proper posture and a bit of elegance.

Unfortunately, today’s clothing line was from Roman and Neo. Which meant balancing the two designers’ conflicting requirements of flamboyance and subtlety into one picture. It tended to lead to a lot of small changes for limb placement and expression before he ever even rose his camera.

So, it tended to be a relief when the snap sounded off and he said, “Alright, you’re done!”

“Oh, thank god!” Tai slumped over immediately, rolling out his shoulders. “I think my neck has a crick in it.”

Clover snorted. “Alright drama king. Go take a break.” He turned towards the doorway, calling, “Who’s next up?”

He heard Kali’s faint, “Get in there. And stop messing with your hair!”

A gruff voice he didn’t recognize replied, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Before Qrow Branwen walked into the room and stole his breath away.

Though he’d joked before, Clover hadn’t actually known what the man had looked like. He rarely did see new models before their first shoot. But now that he was, it had to be said that maybe Willow had indeed hired Qrow simply for his beauty. In almost every way, he was like a softer version of his sister. Where her skin was striking alabaster white, his had more of a welcoming ivory tone. Where her eyes were bright scarlet, his were a gentle vermillion. And where her hair was an ink black, his held streaks of dusty grey that somehow was just enough to make him appear refined, but not old.

Combine that with Roman and Neo’s classy “modern early-1900’s” style, and he looked absolutely dazzling. It was one of their simpler pieces, but dress had made sure he wore it well, especially with the plain, long-sleeved, white dress shirt that someone had decided to undo the top few buttons off to frame a cross necklace hanging sideways. Pulled over that and adding some muted color was a double-layered vest that buttoned from the bottom of the ribs down. The inner layer was a slate grey while the outer layer was a deep charcoal and had a tasteful embroidery design flowing down the sides. The matching dark grey slacks were fairly standard but nicely fitting to the man’s ridiculously long legs. Completing the picture were some shiny cap-toed black dress shoes.

“So uh, how do you want me?” Qrow asked, fidgeting with the cross-shaped cufflinks of his shirt.

Splayed across my bed. Clover shook himself of any indecent thoughts, nodding towards the set that mimicked an old parlor room. “Center stage, leaning back on the table.”

He nodded, crossing the room.

As they passed each other, Tai offered a thumb’s up and a cheery, “Good luck!”

The little half-grin Qrow offered his friend left Clover floating.

Not that the other man was going to need any well wishes, as he’d decided on something fairly simplistic. As Qrow took position, he directed, “Alright, I want you to rest your hands on the table, in view. Keep your fingers spread out.”

“Like this?” He settled them by his hips.

“Mm no. Spread your arms further apart. Position your hands the other way, pointing opposite directions. Yeah – like that! A little more for the right hand. Relax your shoulders more. No, no not that much.” And on and on it went, as Clover altered each little angle and body part until he had the exact position in mind. Yet, despite the ease of what he was asking for, Qrow’s inexperience meant he had to spend twice as long getting things just right.

It quickly became clear by his 60th order that the older man was growing a bit exasperated.

Clover eyed him up and down. Hummed thoughtfully at the position of where his ankles crossed, the toe of one dress shoe pointed down. “Okay, tilt your left heel just a bit more.”

“Is all this really necessary?” Qrow grumbled, trying not to move anything else but his foot.

“When the client is picky, yeah. And stop clawing your fingers. Keep them flat.”

The other man breathed in and out slowly, carefully resting down his hands.

He gave him another once over. Frowned.

The tension he could easily see doubled as Qrow demanded, “What now?”

“Maybe we should try something different.” He considered.

The words were met with Qrow groaning out, “You got to be kidding me.”

And Willow cutting in, “Go with it. We got to get this shoot done before noon!”

He glanced at his wristwatch. Shit, was it really almost eleven? He still had four other designs to go. “Yeah, alright. Qrow, just try to relax your muscles a bit.” He rose his camera. “Alright, now smile.”

He did, stretching it as big as he could.

Clover looked at him over the lens, raising a brow. “I said smile, not look like you’re trying to imitate clown make-up.” Ignoring the other’s sarcastic laughter, he mulled it over, then snapped his fingers. “Ah, I know! Give me the same one you gave to Tai when you first walked in.”

He could tell it wasn’t quite right when it didn’t have the same cloud nine effect on him as before, but with the clock ticking in his head, he took the shot.

“Alright, that’ll do.” Clover said.

“We’re done?” Qrow asked, not moving an inch, as if worried he’d change his mind.

“Yep. You’re free as a bird.”

That earned him a real laugh. “That was awful!”

For the hell of it, he took another shot.

~

There was always such a sense of relief when Clover submitted the photos to processing. From there the team would do whatever touch ups were necessary before it went in for print. Normally, the rest of his day was done, but he had another engagement at a rally across town that would keep him busy well into the evening. So, he found himself stepping into the break room, intent on grabbing a cup of coffee and heading on his way.

He was surprised to find Qrow there, huddled in one of the corner tables. He was dressed down, back in his casuals, but still managed to make a t-shirt and some slacks look like runway material. They met gazes briefly, before the elder man’s eyes dropped back to his phone, not saying a word.

Already short on time, Clover was content to leave it like that, but as he finished mixing his coffee together, guilt seeped in. If they were going to be working together, then one of them had to take the first step and it was much harder for the new guy to take it.

“You did good today.” He spoke.

Qrow scoffed. “You kidding? I was a disaster.” He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll be lucky if they ask me to come back.”

Ah. So, he wasn’t a snob - he was insecure. Clover could work with that.

“Ah come on. It wasn’t that bad.” He crossed the room, turning the opposite chair sideways and falling into it. “You’re just a little stiff. A few more of these and you’ll relax.” He paused, then added, “Oh, and take it a little easy on the people in dress.”

“They were trying to poke my eye out! Whoever invented eyeliner is a demon.”

He guffawed heartily. “It’s not that bad.”

Qrow sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair. “Still, I don’t know what I was thinking, letting Tai convince me to take this job.”

Seemed Tai was doing a lot of that lately.

“I’m not a model. That’s my sister’s gig. And…” Qrow gestured to himself. “I mean, look at me.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure it must get tiring getting all those calls from Mr. Universe asking you to come reclaim your crown.” He countered.

“Tch, if anyone’s got a crown to go reclaim, it’s probably you.” A second later, he seemed to realize what he said and hid his face in his hand. “Oh my god, I didn’t just- I’m sorry, that was inappropriate.”

Clover couldn’t stop grinning. “Relax gorgeous. You’re in the right business to be making comments like that.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t feel so bad, either. You’re not the only one self-conscious around here. Winter? Breaks out before every shoot. James? Has a scar right here.” He ran a finger above the line of his right eyebrow. “And by now, we’ve got to be giving Tai a complex with how much gets altered in processing.”

“He certainly had a lot to say about last month’s issue.”

“Well, you know, we gotta follow those trends and freckles are in.” He was sure there was a lot of talk on the questionable ethics of digitally changing people’s appearances to portray an unobtainable beauty, but it was a topic he wasn’t too interested in engaging with. In the end, it all just came down to the paycheck and keeping people’s jobs. Because if a model couldn’t sell the clothes they were wearing, then they weren’t going to get to keep modeling them.

Qrow leant back, crossing his arms. “Wonder how much they’ll change about me.”

“Well, they’ll definitely take out those cute wrinkles you get around your eyes when you laugh.”

“I wasn’t laughing?”

“Not in the first shot. But I may have…” He shrugged sheepishly. “Taken another one, right at the end? You looked more natural.”

Qrow blinked. “Well. Alright then. Guess that’s why you’re the expert.” His gaze drifted past Clover’s shoulder at about the same time he heard the footsteps. “Hey Tai. All done?”

“Yeah.” The blond replied as he stopped at their table, eyeing him suspiciously. “Hopefully the company flirt wasn’t giving you trouble.”

“Oh sunshine,” Clover drawled, playing it up as he bat his eyelashes at the other man. “I hope you know you’re my one and only.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Save it for the guys actually swinging your way.” He nodded to his friend. “Come on, we better get moving if we want to get the girls on time.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Qrow stood. “It was nice meeting you Clover.”

“Same here. Looking forward to working with you.” He replied sincerely. A pleasant little warmth tingled through him when the sentiment earned him an adorable smile.

As he watched him go, Clover cast his earlier worries aside and decided that this truly was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

[minetteenfers]

You Make It So Hard (One Shot)

Marinette stood in their kitchen over a pot of boiling water. She stirred the pasta that was currently cooking. She wore a pink apron with black flowers on the corner. Her hair was up in a bun and the dress she wore beneath it was handmade by her and black with bright green accents. She sighed as she slowly stirred the pasta. She didn’t know how she had gotten to where she was. Had no idea how she had ended up living with Adrien Agreste of all people, but there she was. There was one thing that she was not used to and that was that he- Her thought was broken off when Adrien walked into the room. 

She nearly dropped the spoon she was holding. No matter how long she had been stuck with him as her roommate… she never had gotten used to seeing him the way he was. Her eyes skirted up his muscular legs, skipped over his hips, and ran up his abs and pecs until she reached his eyes. 

“Is it really necessary for you to walk around nude all the damn time?” Marinette shook her head and went back to stirring the pasta. 

Adrien walked past her and brushed his hip against her, causing her to shiver. “It’s a lifestyle. Embrace it. It’s so freeing and I enjoy it. The human body is a beautiful work of art, Marinette. Accept it.” Adrien grabbed a cup from the cabinet beside her like it was totally normal for him to be walking around their kitchen nude. 

“Just because you are a nude art model now and a nudist doesn’t mean that I- mmpf.” Marinette was interrupted by his slender index finger over her lips. 

“I take pride in the fact that I am who I am. I am no longer kept hostage by the ideals of my father. Let me be free. Please.” Adrien let his finger leave her lips as he poured himself coffee and walked away from her to sit at the kitchen table. 

“Do you really need to be this way to be free? Like you can’t at least wear tiny shorts?” Marinette whined as she watched him widen his legs as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“You should try it Marinette. There is nothing wrong with being this way. It’s natural for us to want to be nude. It’s just society that has put this stigma on it.” Adrien shrugged and drank his coffee. 

“Yeah, but my heart and eyes can’t take a well muscled, toned, man walking around my house.” Marinette whispered under her breath as she went back to focusing on dinner. 

“What was that?” Adrien peered over his toned shoulder at her. 

“No-nothing. I just- I can’t invite people over with my roommate walking around naked all the damn time.” Marinette sighed as she tried to get away from her original statement and thought. 

“You can just warn me and I’ll put on jeans.” Adrien shrugged. 

Marinette’s mind wandered to him in low sitting designer jeans, bare feet, and no shirt. Somehow that thought was worse than the damn man walking around their house naked.

 “Can-” Marinette hit her fist down against the counter with the spoon in her hand. “Lord.” 

“What?” Adrien searched her form as he peered at her. 

“Nothing, it’s fine. I don’t want to make you be someone you’re not. It’s not right of me. Just- it’s hard.” Marinette gave in. 

“What’s hard?” Adrien licked his lips and parted them in thought. 

“Being around you…” Marinette gestured to all of him with her hand. “Like that.” 

“Never thought that would come out of your mouth.” Adrien was surprised. 

“Well, I’m full of surprises. Much like you.” Marinette made a frustrated sound as she shoved on pastel pink oven mitts and grabbed the pot angrily. She took it over to the sink to drain the pasta. 

“Hang on. What are you even talking about?” Adrien stood up and walked over to the island. 

“I thought you being the son of this massive fashion mongul, Gabriel Agreste, and being a fashion model… not even that long ago would make you the perfect roommate! I am sitting here trying to create my own brand and image. Trying to swim in shark infested waters! I thought it would be in my best interest to live with someone who knows fashion inside and out. Who grew up with it! Yet here you are!” Marinette gestured up and down his body after slamming the hot pot in the sink. “Dropping haute couture modeling, taking up nude art modeling, and walking around the damn place nude like you don’t live with a friend!”

“You know…” Adrien leaned on the sink with his palm and an unamused expression. “If you wanted help with the fashion industry and how all that bullshit works? You could just ask me. I don’t need to wear clothes or walk runways to know that hell. Also… glad to know that you only see me as a walking ball of knowledge on the shittiest industry that I can imagine, but please tell me more about how little you think of me as a ‘friend’. Because ‘friends’ definitely treat themselves this way.” He pushed off the counter and took off past her. 

She quickly spun to face the direction he had walked off on. “Where are you going?” 

“Out.” Adrien threw his hands up and brought them back down. 

“It’s raining!” Marinette called after him. 

“Don’t care!” Adrien came out a few minutes later in black joggers, a white shirt, and a red hooded jacket. Red Converse sat on his feet as he grabbed his keys from the table and shoved them into his pocket. 

“Adrien… I-” Marinette searched his back as he froze in front of the door. 

“Look. You chill out and I’ll maybe talk to you later. Clearly we need some time apart.” Adrien pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before he left out the door. 

Marinette turned to face the sink, gripping the edge, and staring at the pasta as the steam faded. “Look what you’ve done now, Marinette. You are one terrible person.” She sighed and gripped the sink harder. She got lost in the memories of her and Adrien since Lycee. How much she had put him on this pedestal that was surrounded by these crazy ideals that no one could amount to. It was truly insane when she thought about it. She put just as much pressure on him as his father and something about that made her sick to her stomach. She worried her lip as she got lost in her thoughts. Got lost in how terrible she really was. How she wasn’t much farther than one of his crazy fans. She sighed and thought about going after him before she picked up the pot to take it out of the sink. 

The door suddenly opened and slammed shut, the sound of keys hit the counter, and within moments a pair of chilled hands were on her cheeks. She had only mere seconds to process a pair of emerald eyes gazing into her widened sapphire ones before cold, damp, soft lips were on hers. She sighed and slowly closed her eyes as she lost her grip on the pot, causing it to fall to the floor. His arms gathered around her waist and pulled her against his wet clothing. She parted her lips as he deepened the kiss and she melted in his arms. 

Adrien broke the kiss and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of her hairstyle as he warmly gazed into her dreamy gaze. “I’m sorry that I didn’t meet your expectations.” 

Marinette shook her head and ran her fingers up the sides of his face and tangled them into his wet hair. “You’re soaked.” 

“I went for a run.” Adrien softly smiled at her. 

“You’re going to catch a cold like this.” Marinette bit her bottom lip as she played with his hair. “I’m sorry for putting those unrealistic expectations on you.” 

“It’s- it makes a lot of sense you would think that. I will help you, if you want.” Adrien warmly smiled. “Show me what you’re working on.” 

Marinette smiled up at him and pulled him back down into a kiss, holding him there for a few moments, causing him to sigh and hold her tighter. She broke the kiss and slowly ran her hands up his torso, along his pecs, and across his shoulders to push his jacket off. 

“What are you doing?” Adrien peered down at her with a shocked expression as he let the jacket fall to the ground. 

Marinette shrugged as she ran her hands along the hem of his shirt and pushed it up his body. Adrien reached over his shoulder and pulled his shirt up and over his head. He shook his wet hair, causing droplets to shower over Marinette. She burst into a fit of giggles and he laughed at her. 

“There’s the girl I remember.” Adrien smirked at her and choked as he felt her fingers along the band of his joggers. “Maybe not.” 

“Shut up. You’re soaked and I don’t want you sick.” Marinette rolled her eyes as she shoved them down. 

Adrien laughed and stepped out of them, untied his shoes, and pulled them off along with his socks. “Better?” 

“Almost.” Marinette left and came back with a towel. “Bend down.” 

Adrien bent down slightly and she began to dry his hair. “You know there are a lot of animes like this.” 

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure the guys wore clothes.” Marinette giggled and she heard him burst out in a laugh from underneath the white towel. 

“Some.” Adrien laughed and Marinette shook her head. 

“Only you would know what ones involved clothes and what ones didn’t.” Marinette giggled and Adrien laughed harder. 

“Hey. I don’t know which ones had it. I’m not that good.” Adrien peered out from under his messy bangs as she slowly brought the towel down his body, drying him off slowly. “And I think you’re enjoying this too much.” He peered through his long lashes as he smirked at her with heavily lidded eyes. 

“Stop.” Marinette whacked him with the towel before she went to work cleaning the pasta from the floor. 

Link to it on AO3 (rated M)

[intobangtan]

Fitting Rooms

Pairing: J-Hope x Reader 

Type: Fluff 🌼

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none :)

Note: You go shopping with your boyfriend and he wants to watch you change. Btw, this is for a request from matchmaker. Requested by @chillee30s)

“You know, I like shopping alone.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest as you stared at your boyfriend, huffing. You came to the mall together to hang out but when you saw the cute skirt on the store window, you had to get inside.

“I know,” Hoseok grinned widely. “But I like shopping, too. So let’s do this.”

“But you won’t rush me, right?” It had been two weeks only since you started dating Hoseok. You had mutual friends and used to see each other during parties.

He had always complemented you whether it was your clothing or the joke you made when you were hanging out all together. He was a really bright person.

And you loved him. You had realised it when you once had a weak moment. You had fought with one of your friends and it had really stuck with you but you tried to shrug it off because you never liked seeming weak.

Nobody saw through your confident facade. But Hoseok was quick to see through you and the way he had managed to handle the situation and helped you sort things out rationally, had caught your attention. After that you just found yourself observing him and you felt intrigued.

He was smart, confident - just beautiful in and out. The more you hung out, the more intimate you got and now you were dating.

But there was one thing you hated and this was when somebody rushed you while you were shopping. Your fashion was your certainty.

Hoseok pecked your lips, pushing you inside the shop with his hand on your lower back. “Take all the time you need, baby. I have a good time watching you.”

You smiled, nodding before you lost yourself in the rows of clothing. Hoseok followed behind you, chatting with you as you gathered piece after piece. He chuckled as you finally came to a halt with a mountain of clothes in your arms.

“Now I’m going to try these,” He nodded as you watched him intensely, wondering if he got bored. But his wide smile didn’t leave his lips nor his eyes.

“You know,” You spoke up as you both walked towards the fitting rooms. “My boyfriend is really a sunshine.”

“Oh, is he?” He snickered.

“Mhmm,” You motioned for Hoseok to sit opposite the changing room that you’d go inside.

“I’ll show you how you walk a runway,” You winked at him but he shook his head, stepping closer to you.

“What?” You quirked an eyebrow.

“You had fun choosing all these,” He pointed at the pile of clothes, you had difficulties to carry, “Now it’s my turn.” He grinned, his eyes holding a different sparkle.

He gently pushed you inside the fitting room and joined you in, pulling the curtain close.

You snorted, protesting as you tried to get him outside but he took the clothes out of your hands, hanging them on the wall one by one.

You watched him carefully. This was a public space, he wouldn’t dare to-

You quickly pushed away the thought because your stomach did backflips already as you considered it.

His arms brushed you everytime he moved because the place was too small for the two of you. When he finished, he turned around with glistening eyes.

“Hoseok,” You frowned, “We can do this later. I can strip in front of you when we’re at your place-” But he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. He sat down on the stool behind him, crossing his legs. He licked his lips and a sudden wave of heat shot down your core as he eyed you like a predator.

“I can’t even move properly. This place is so narrow. I can’t bend-”

“Then bend over me.” You gulped as those words simply rolled off his tongue. Bend over him?

He must have lost his mind. I snorted as he stared at me expectantly.

He sighed, “I’m waiting, baby.” With that you pulled your shirt over your head, grabbing for the first blouse.

You blushed when his eyes travelled over your form as you tried on shirt after shirt. He spit out some necessary and some unnecessary remarks - most of them about your boobs. You noticed how hot the small room got and how you began to sweat. Your whole body was on fire-

You had to get this over with, you thought. If someone would pull the curtain open, it’d be too embarassing. You hurried, skipping a top.

You were about to try on the last piece - the skirt you had liked and as soon as you pulled down your pants, showing your pink lingerie, you heard Hoseok take in a sharp breath.

He stood up and you immediately lifted your hands, shaking your head.

“Don’t be stupid. Not in a place like this,” You hissed but the idea of making out with him in a changing room was making you feel evet hotter. Your mouth felt dry as Hoseok put his hands on your waist, his lips brushing your neck.

A slight whimper escaped your mouth, causing Hoseok to grumble in response.

His fingers traced down your bare thigh, hooking your leg up to hug his waist. You closed your eyes as he pressed his croch against your lower abdomen. His lips softly traced your neck but he was quick to pull back.

You whined, grabbing his arm but Hoseok fixed his hair and shirt, staring at you with dark eyes.

“Get out of here. We’ll do this at home.” You bit your lip, fighting back a smirk. You loved it when he was eager. His eyes roamed your body one last time. He opened the curtain enough for him to slip out, before he whispered,

“Or in the car.”

~~~

masterlist 💜

matchmaker 💜

[imagine-loki]

missed

TITLE: missed CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 10/14 AUTHOR: hiddlemediddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being one of the few female frost giants left. As the race is dying out, you are expected to bear as many children as possible. You escape when Jotunheim is under attack, finding yourself on earth. Dr. Strange senses your arrival and takes you to the Avengers, where they are in awe of your appearance. Blue skin and crimson red eyes. When Loki sees you, he doesn’t quite know how to respond. RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: x - “What?” Loki breathed out in disbelief. Of all the places that they could have held their little meetings, they held them on the wasteland that was now Jotunheim. The place where everyone would have least expected. “I think some of them had died already because of the climate there. It was too cold for some of them to survive” “Can he get past the shields?” Loki asked, cold determination laced in his voice. “Loki - ”

“Answer my question, brother” “We don’t know” Thor huffed out. “Right, then we’re leaving.. now” Loki said quickly. Thor had not heard those determined tones in his brother’s voice for Odin knows how long. You stood there, still. You had been thinking whilst they had been talking. Quicker than you could have ever thought possible, you had made your decision. When Loki left the room, you followed him quickly. “Loki - ” You said quickly. “Get some stuff together, Y/N - we can’t stay here for longer than strictly necessary” “Loki, listen to me.. I’m not going anywhere.” Loki suddenly stopped, whirling around to look at you in complete and utter shock. You put your head down slightly, placing your hand on your heart. Slowly, you felt yourself change. The veneer became stripped. You looked down to see the familiar blue skin coating you. You felt comforted once more. “What do you mean you aren’t going anywhere?” Loki whispered out in disbelief. “He will kill you. But not before he kills me first.” “It’s me he wants. You need to stop laying down people’s lives to save me. He will stop slaughtering people’s lives once he has claimed mine” “No, he will not, you know that. He will continue to murder people” Loki said determinedly. He would drag you away from this place if it was the last thing that he would do. “He wants to kill me because I am Jotun. His intention was to kill the race and he knew he missed out one of them. Once he has claimed my life, this will end” “Two” Loki said, almost angrily. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What?” “Two of them. We are both Jotuns. You aren’t the only one he’s after. If his intention was to wipe out our race, then we will stop at nothing to claim both of our lives” “Let me do this the way that I believe it should be done” “What? By submitting to him? By standing by and letting him kill you? No. I will lay down my life to save you from harm” “You don’t have to” You whispered, tears gathering in your eyes. “This will be over once I am gone. I cannot bear the thought of another person losing their life trying to preserve mine. Their life is as equally valuable as mine” Your eyes weren’t the only ones gathering tears. Loki was looking at you through a blurred vision. As the tears fell down your faces, you felt Thor make an awkward appearance at the door of the kitchen. “Are we leaving.. or..?” Thor asked awkwardly, though he was completely ignored.  “I will drag you out myself if you don’t comply. If that doesn’t work, I will get the rest of SHIELD to drag you out of here and away from any threat of that monster.” Loki’s face displayed the most raw expression of pain you had ever beheld.  “You would leave me.. forsake me in this life?” Loki whispered. You felt as though a dagger to the heart would have hurt less than his words. Thor awkwardly backed away, clearly feeling himself to have intruded a severely private conversation. Yet, deep down, he knew that they didn’t really have much time left to make a decision. “It is for the greater good. It will prevent further death. Something must give.” “You are wrong” Loki said to you, his tears falling freely now.  Loki hung his head in defeat. You didn’t think you had ever been so moved in your life. Walking over to him, he was leaning against the side of the counter of the kitchen top. He had closed his eyes tightly, the tears making his face wet. You were so close to him now. You extended your arms and wrapped them around Loki’s firm waist. The contact almost made Loki step back in shock, yet he felt your body against his own and his soul soared. You rested your head against his chest, feeling his heart beating loudly in its cage. “Please, Y/N.. please. Do not make me use force. If needs be, I will do it.” Loki whispered, drawing you closer towards him. You felt as though you could fall asleep in this man’s embrace. You had never heard his voice.. so desperate. You felt your compliance on your lips, yet it was so hard to allow it to trip from your tongue. Eventually, the ‘Alright’ on your lips was whispered against his chest. You withdrew yourself from his embrace, both of your faces wet with tears. You both were moved from the wonderful Scottish residence that you had spent many months with him. In the end, you were both moved to another country. You had both specified that the 'colder the better’. The only place that seemed to fit that criteria was Scandinavia, specifically Norway. It was strange to be out and about, yet it was with the knowledge that you were shielded by Loki’s magic. You could see, even from the outside, how much strain it was for him to uphold such shields. You were both conveyed by car to Edinburgh airport. From there, SHIELD’s private plane awaited to take you both to Norway from a separate runway. You boarded the plane with reluctance, still feeling that what you were doing was not right. That, somehow, whatever you would do was only delaying an inevitable end. The inevitable end that was your murder at the hands of that Asgardian rebel, whoever their leader was. Loki understood your distance as you both boarded the plane. Nevertheless, you were both sitting beside each other in this vast plane. You realised, slowly, that you were only doing this because it would have killed Loki if you would have done otherwise. The thought of paining him.. pained you more than you ever thought possible. You thought and thought on that plane journey. What had compelled you to submit to him? You hated to think that it was weakness. Yet, you realised that it was only the weakness of feeling for him. That, you knew, could not be a weakness. Did you.. love him? The word did not sound right when referring to Loki, a man capable of so many atrocities. But was he not reformed? Everyone was capable of atrocities.. he had not acted upon his capabilities for.. Odin knows how long. Did he.. love you? Was it out of.. love.. that he was acting in such a way? Or was it some warped sense of duty that he needed to protect the only Jotun, besides himself, that was left in the universe? Something was tugging at you to tell you that it was the former. You tried your best to ignore your feelings, but was it all not as abundantly clear as ever? He loved you, did he not? And.. you loved him. It was all far too confusing to think about while you were a few thousand feet from the ground. Much quicker than you had anticipated, the plane landed somewhat ruggedly on the runway in Oslo. “Landings are.. never pretty” Loki commented. They were the only words exchanged between you both during the whole flight. You were glad. Words had not been needed through that journey.. only thought. deep and meaningful thought between the both of you. “I didn’t think they would be” You replied absently, trying your best to smile at him. Yet, it came out as a wonky attempt that only made Loki more concerned for you. “I.. can only apologise” “It is not your fault that I am being chased by.. a rebel leader.. because of the fact that I am Jotun” “I know” he whispered gently, yet he didn’t seem convinced. Loki had always felt throughout his entire life that he could always do more, that he could prevent and create things all the time. It was now more than ever that he felt that he wasn’t doing enough to protect you from harm. You were both moved quite smoothly into a house. The amount of snow covering the place made you feel.. happy. Loki noted the delight on your face when you went to cup a handful of it and let it dissolve onto your skin. Thor was the first to speak when you both entered. “This may only be temporary” he said. “We haven’t got a clue where the leader might be” “Do any of you even know who he is?” Loki asked his brother. Thor was silent, until he knew he needed to say something after sighing deeply. “No, brother, we don’t. He has magic way beyond anything SHIELD has ever seen, nor perhaps even you.” “Hmm, perhaps” Loki said, rolling his eyes slightly. You couldn’t suppress a grin at his reaction “All we know is that he is not currently on Midgard, though he could be at any moment. There has been nothing to detect that any foreign presence has arrived on this planet” “He could surpass those detections. I did” Loki said. Thor raised his eyebrow at his brother. You were only interested to see how the dynamics between the two brothers truly worked. It seemed to be constant wit on both sides which held the ship afloat. “All I’m saying is.. this little Norwegian hut should not become too familiar” Thor said, almost ominously. “When has any residence become familiar on this planet?” Loki murmured. Thor told you both to stay vigilant, which didn’t make you as uneasy as you would have been before. There was a type of fatalism in your feelings, as though your inevitable end was being completely accepted. It was almost as though your survival instinct was slowly wearing away. Thor and a few other SHIELD agents left the house. It was only you and Loki left. You looked around the house. It wasn’t half as big as the house in Scotland, though it had a homely feel to it that made you warm to it instantly. There were wooden carvings near the hearth and beautiful paintings adorning the walls. You hoped you would be here long enough to know them like the back of your hand. “Would you like.. something to eat, Y/N?” Loki asked from behind you. You both consented to making something to eat. You had both expected to have to get together a list of ingredients, with Loki being the one to fetch them from a nearby shop. You were both baffled to find food already lining the cupboards and shelves. “I hope they are not out of date” Loki smirked, checking the expiry dates on the tins. “Did they.. prepare all of this for our arrival?” “If 'they’ is referring to SHIELD, then yes, they did. They seem to have too much government patronage to know what to do with it�� “It isn’t right” “That we are fed?” Loki grinned, raising his eyebrow at you. “I’m being serious, Loki” You said sternly. “None of this is right. I should bet that this was someone’s real house. That money should be going towards helping the poor, not furnishing our inconspicuous haunt” “Inconspicuous haunt? I like the sound of that. To answer your query, I was told before we got on the plane that this house was on the market anyway. The landlord was apparently elated when SHIELD offered them copious amounts of money for both the house’s purchase and their silence that the government had anything to do with it. "Midgard may seem to you a wonderful planet, Y/N, yet it has its terrible flaws. Flaws that I could not even begin to describe” he said. With that, you decided to go upstairs and explore this new place.

[noreasonjustbored]

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Jealous

Part 1:

Charlotte and Henry started dating a few months before their high school graduation. Everyone thought that it was a bad idea for them to begin a relationship because they were already set to go to separate colleges. Henry decided to attend the local community college, so that he could still be Kid Danger, and Charlotte would be a few hours away at Stanford on a full ride.

Before deciding to take the risk, they agreed that it wouldn’t work if both parties were not 110% committed. Knowing that they both wanted to make ‘them’ work above all else helped them to persevere through the rough patches. In the beginning the miles apart placed a strain on their relationship since they were so used to seeing each other every day. But they adjusted, they really put in the time and effort needed keep their relationship afloat. The distance eventually forced them to have better communication skills. They learned to articulate how they were feeling more concisely since they couldn’t read each other’s body language through text.

Since starting school they had both grown up a lot more. Charlotte decided to make the most of her college experience. She absolutely focused on her academics, but she wasn’t afraid to hit up a frat party every once in a while. She really found her stride in clothing design and would sometimes even sport her own looks to these events. Her wardrobe as a whole was more diversified. While her new clothes were far from risqué, she did show a little skin more often than not. She was overall a more confident and open person.

Henry was maturing in his own ways as well. He was taking over more responsibility when it came to the superhero business and the regular business. He would go out on missions alone frequently and only requested Ray for backup when absolutely necessary. Henry was really coming into his own as a hero. He was even considering rebranding himself and retiring his Kid Danger moniker for good. He couldn't yet decide between Man Danger, Sir Danger or Mr. Danger. He would have to workshop the name a little more.

It had been almost a year since Charlotte and Henry became official. In that time, they learned a lot about each other. Individually and as a couple. Charlotte learned that Henry was extremely needy and possessive and jealous. Henry learned that Charlotte was not.

Sometimes it bothered Henry that Charlotte was so nonchalant about people hitting on him. They had once been on a date where the waitress flirted with Henry the ENTIRE time. She was even so bold to leave her number on the receipt with a winky face next to her name. Charlotte didn’t even bat an eyelash. And he knows that Char noticed, she was way too observant not to pick on the very obvious server. She didn’t make any comments about it during or after the dinner.

He, on the other hand was always claiming her in front of random people. He couldn’t leave her alone for two seconds without coming back to some schmuck shooting their shot. Guy after guy were constantly getting curved by his beautiful girlfriend. That didn’t stop Henry from making his place known. A glare and a not so subtle hand around her waist or shoulder usually did the trick. He just wanted to drive home to these dudes that they had zero chance, not with his Char.

Henry figured that he should be happy that she was so secure in their relationship. And he was happy, but maybe he would like to see a little jealousy every once in a while. Charlotte had such a casual attitude towards the attention he got from other women, and sometimes men, that it felt like she didn’t care at all. He knew that he had already hit the jackpot with Charlotte, she was truly one of the best things to happen to him. He just wanted to feel as if the same was true for her.

Their first anniversary would fall during spring break so he convinced Charlotte to let him plan the entire week. She was hesitant to leave everything in his hands but conceded after a few days of pleading and pouting over FaceTime. She almost couldn’t believe how quickly she caved after seeing Henry’s adorable puppy dog expression. She did always find it hard to resist those beautiful brown eyes. Especially when combined with his hopeful begging to, “Just trust me babe. Pleeeaase.” Charlotte folded like fresh laundry.

Henry decided that they would go to New York for their break. Charlotte loved musicals and fashion, both of which there was an abundance of in New York. He decided that he would take her to a Broadway show, a concert and a runway show. He was ambitious.

During his research for the trip Henry discovered that the first installment of the official New York Fashion Week was hosted every February. They had already missed it but there were usually a series of smaller, more accessible shows in the month or so following. He was able to secure them seats at a show with an up-and-coming brand that seemed to fit Charlotte’s new style.

During his deep dive into fashion shows, plays and all the other events happening during their break, Henry saw that the Boo Man Group had shows in the city that same week. Charlotte loved them plus it would make up for that one year on her birthday that she missed their performance because of superhero shenanigans.

When trying to get tickets online he discovered that the group was sold out the entire time they would be in New York. Sighing in defeat, Henry was about to click off the browser when he noticed that the Boo Man Group weren’t doing a solo performance. They actually were just the opening act for none other than...Double G!

A tiny spark of hope bloomed in his chest when he realized that he just might have a connect to get into the concert after all. He figured it was a long shot but he quickly pulled out his phone and searched in the contacts. Once he found the name he was looking for, he immediately hit the call button.

Biting the corner of his bottom lip in anticipation, he hoped that she still had the same phone number and would pick up. Tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously Henry listened to the ringing tone and was just about to disconnect the line when he heard a raspy, “Hello?”

“Hey. Babe?” Henry asked.

Babe squinted down at her phone in confusion and cleared her throat. “Henry?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I completely forgot about the time difference between California and New York.” Henry said while glancing at his clock on his beside table. 9:02 pm. It would be after midnight over there. Oops, thought Henry.

“Uhhh yeah, that’s okay though. I’m up now, what’s going on?” Babe wondered while sitting up in bed. She hadn’t talked to Henry in over a year, unless you counted his extremely scarce retweets on Twitter or a rare comment under her posts on Instagram.

“I was wondering if you could help me get tickets to one of Double Gs shows in March?” Henry asked hesitantly while scratching the back of his neck.

“Uuuuuhh” was Babe’s reply.

“It’s totally okay if you can’t help me out. I figured I would at least ask because all the dates were sold out. And I know you are close to his family. You know what? Forget I brought it up” Henry said in a rush.

“Henry it’s okay, I’m still half asleep and I was just contemplating if I would be able to get you tickets. Chill.” Babe replied with a small laugh.

“Sorry. I’m a little high strung right now. I’m trying to plan a spring break to remember and these tickets would definitely get me one step closer.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll check with Trip tomorrow at work. He pretty much has access to all his dad’s shows. I can probably hook you up with backstage passes, VIP, the whole thing.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I can’t believe it” Henry exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah just text me tomorrow with the details. What days you’ll be in town, number of tickets, whatever else” she said while yawning.

“Ok, ok will do. Thanks again. I really owe you one Babe” Henry said sincerely.

“Don’t mention it, I’ll be happy to collect on a favor from Kid Danger” Babe teasingly retorted.

“Well, have a good night. I’ll let you get back to sleep. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later” Babe replies before hanging up her phone.

A large smile covered his face when he thought about all the fun they were going to have. Spring Break couldn’t come fast enough.

Henry was so busy arranging the trip that he barely had any extra time. He and Char usually FaceTimed every night but recently that had decreased to two or three times a week. On top of all the trip planning, he was out on more late night crime alerts than usual. It seemed as if every villain in Swellview had suddenly gotten the motivation to enact their little schemes all at once. Like they all decided that they needed to complete their plots for total domination before Spring Break. Maybe they were going on vacation too.

Henry was busy consolidating his budget one afternoon when he got a video chat request. Looking up from the document that he was reading he searched under all the pages spread out on his desk for his phone. He finally located it under a credit card statement that he had printed. Looking at the screen he involuntarily smiled when he saw the contact picture. Pressing accept, he was greeted by the glowing umber skin of his gorgeous girlfriend.

"Hey Love" Henry greeted with a dazzling smile.

"Hey Handsome. I was just calling to see how you were doing on budget day" Charlotte responded.

Furrowing his brows and squinting slightly, Henry chuckled. "How'd you know it was budget day?"

"Well I know you've been working on being more fiscally responsible after I explained that good credit wasn't just for 'crusty old dudes'. Plus your card balance is due tomorrow and you always wait until the last minute to figure out your bills."

"Wow, aren't you quite the detective?" Henry sassed lightly.

"Yes. Yes I am. Also, you put it in our shared calendar with a frowny face beside it." Charlotte smirked.

"Oh yeah, I remember that now. That was after the third time I had pushed it off for later. I decided to put it in the joint calendar because I knew you would hold me accountable if I didn't do it."

"Smart plan. You know I can help if you need anything."

"Yeah, actually I have a question about interest rates. How do you-" Henry paused.

Charlotte could see Henry looking at his phone in contemplation while biting the corner of his bottom lip. “Uh, baby?" Charlotte inquired after few seconds of silence.

"Hey, I'm actually getting an important call, let me call you back later okay?"

"Oh ok, don't forget to tell me...your question about interest" she trailed off when he she realized that he had already clicked over to the other line.

Strange thought Charlotte.

He reluctantly interrupted his conversation with Char because Babe was calling him back. He needed to know if she was able to secure the tickets for them. But, he decided it would be a good idea not to tell Charlotte who was calling. He didn't want her to figure out the surprise location and a clue like that could give it away. She wouldn't be able to guess where they were going since she didn't know that he was talking to Babe. What other reason would Henry have to speak to the New York native?

Henry spent the next few weeks coordinating with Babe about his Epic Spring Break Trip. She helped him get the concert tickets and extra perks but she also gave him advice about what other events would be in town that week. She provided the inside scoop about all the cool local spots in their area. She also helped him pick which Broadway show they thought he and Charlotte might like the best. She assisted with picking what hotel would work best with his budget. Babe was basically his travel agent without any pay.

When everything was finalized and shaping up to be the best spring break of all time, Henry called Babe to ask her what he could do in order to repay her for all the assistance. She responded that she was more than happy to help and if she thought of anything, she would let him know. He told that he would help her with whatever, whenever and let her know that it had been great catching up with her over the last few weeks.

Henry had previously only considered her a nuisance based off the impression she made when they first met. Now he thought of her as, at the very least, a good acquaintance. Maybe even a friend. Time seemed to have mellowed her out significantly. He might even consider accepting her friend requests on his private social media pages. He followed her profiles but she had seemed like she would be hella annoying online so he held off on letting her follow him back.

As the vacation approached, Henry got more and more nervous. He went back in forth in his head about if Charlotte was going to hate everything that he planned. Unnecessary thoughts plagued his mind. What if her interests had changed? What if she hates Boo Man Group now? What if doesn’t like fashion anymore? What if she doesn’t even like ME anymore?

His fears were quickly assuaged on the day before they were set to leave for New York. He, Ray and Schowz were all standing around talking while they hula-hooped. He had just dropped his hoop for the thousandth time when Charlotte came into the ManCave. She immediately dropped all of her luggage after stepping off the elevator and catapulted into his arms. He hugged her back tightly and when he pulled back to look at her face he could see the love shining in her eyes. He let out a sigh of contentment while holding her in his arms. Then they proceeded to have the most intense, toe curling, lip tingling kiss that they had ever shared.

Their passionate, borderline inappropriate kiss came to an abrupt halt when they heard an airhorn sound off loudly right into their ears. They hadn’t seen each other since New Year’s day, could you really blame them for getting swept up into the moment? Quickly jumping apart they looked around to notice that Ray and Schwoz were staring at them incredulously.

“Geez guys, did you remember to breathe?” Ray exclaimed.

“Yeah it looked like you were both trying to suffocate each other with your tongues.” Schwoz snidely commented.

Charlotte looked embarrassed to have lost her inhibitions in front of the pair and weakly called out “Shut up!” while rubbing her arms awkwardly.

Henry chuckled and pulled his mortified girlfriend into his arms again and gave her a simple kiss on the forehead.

“What are you doing here babe? I thought I was going to pick you up from school on the way to the airport tomorrow morning?”

“You were but I wanted to surprise you. You’ve spent so much time planning this trip that I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately.”

“Awwww...you missed little ole' me? I’m honored” Henry responded jokingly.

Charlotte hit him lightly on the arm. “I mostly missed Jasper” she says with a smirk. “Where is he by the way? I wanted to see him before we left. I thought he was coming home for break?"

“Jasper was invited to some kind of exclusive bucket convention last minute so he’s actually in Wisconsin right now.”

“Oh. That’s weird, but totally Jasper. I also missed those two goofballs, but don’t tell them that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Henry said lowly while bending down to give Charlotte another kiss. Before they could even brush lips, the air horn let out three quick spurts too close for comfort courtesy of Ray.

“Uh uh uh. No more of that in here. I don’t like to be reminded of how single I am.”

“And stop hogging Charlotte!” Schowz said while pulling Henry away to bestow a brief hug upon her.

“I missed you! You know these idiots can barely comprehend what I’m saying most days” Schowz lamented.

“That's because of your silly accent and you know it!” Ray cuts in while pushing Schowz away with a palm to his face.

He gives Charlotte a quick hug as well and says, “Welcome back Brains. I didn’t miss you at all.”

“Love you too Ray” Charlotte says with a smile.

They spend the whole day in the ManCave watching movies and catching up on life. This place was her home away from home and she wouldn’t it change it for the world.

[peterstanslizzie]

Re-watching Lizzie Mcguire: Episode 1.23 (Last Year’s Model)

“You like me, you really like me”. She didn’t say this but I feel this is the perfect description for this picture lol

- The Mcguire family’s got mail! Besides the generic ones like bills, Matt receives a letter that contains a $50 gift certificate from his grandma, Gammy Mcguire for his birthday. 

- But she seemed to forget when Matt’s birthday is because she had already gifted him his present 7 months ago. I still would like to see Gammy actually appear on-screen and interact with her family. But we are never going to get that I’m afraid. 

- As for Lizzie, she asks her mom if she could participate in a fashion show organised by ‘Teen Attitude’ magazine. If she’s chosen by them, she will receive $500 worth of merchandise. I would definitely want to do that fashion show just for the perks. Her mom seems to be on board as long as she does her homework and stops picking on Matt.

Lizzie says sure but we all know that she’s not going to do one of the two promises lol

Lizzie The Runway Model

Remember when fashion shows back then were all fun and joyful and the models always used to spin around? Nowadays, most models just look so miserable.

- Gordo seems to be on-board with the whole modeling thing for Lizzie, mostly because of the $500. Isn’t he the type of person who views modeling as superficial? I also wonder why Miranda wasn’t interested in trying out for the fashion show?

- Mr. Dig, their substitute teacher suddenly interrupts their conversation and went off on a tangent by talking about the time he gave advice to a model by the name of Colette Romana, whose face was broken when an elephant sat on her face in Nairobi.....okayyy

Mr. Dig is really odd but I do appreciate his honesty with the kids when it comes to life lessons 

- Next, we move on to the ‘Styling’ and Sassy’ fashion show! Lizzie’s parents, her friends and even Kate Sanders plus Ethan Craft are in the audience. Can I just say that Lizzie totally rocked the runway!? She really fits the typical girl-next-door look the fashion show was trying to showcase and not to mention, I love the fact that an S Club 7 song (Everybody Wants Ya) is playing in the background too!

Work that twirl girlfriend!

- Kate is clearly jealous that she couldn’t do the fashion show because she had to go to a funeral. Wow Kate, way to hit a new low this time. But I must say; Kate would’ve have been great for this because she certainly has the height for the runway. 

Everybody Is Acting Weird Around Lizzie

- After the fashion show, Lizzie tells her friends that she was asked to do another fashion show due to her amazing performance. Gordo then makes a joke with her, reminding her to not forget about them when she becomes famous and all of a sudden, Lizzie forgets his name when addressing him...umm what? Hope she wasn’t kidding when she did that.

- After that, we see this girl who sat with Kate and Ethan in the fashion show approach Lizzie and invites her to her dad’s clubhouse to hang out in the hot tub and watch the new Backstreet Boys DVD. This show is definitely old lmao!

Okay, this girl’s name is Jessica. I had to fast forward to figure that out.

- Lizzie hesitates to say yes because she already made plans with Gordo and Miranda to watch a movie but turns out, both her friends are very eager to join Lizzie at the country club and hang out with the popular kids. Even Gordo!

- We are then taken to the clubhouse and our trio is seen chilling in the hot tub. Gordo is mostly enjoying the free food being served. I can definitely relate to him. What’s surprising me right now is how Kate’s acting all cool and friendly in front of Lizzie.

What a sudden change in attitude! She’s now acting as if Lizzie is a legit celebrity, which she isn’t. I don’t get it.

- It’s not just with Kate; Miranda is also acting different around Lizzie. She offers to bring a drink over to Lizzie and basically recites the entire drinks menu. She’s acting like Lizzie’s personal assistant. But wow, Miranda actually seems to have a great memory when it comes to listing things out. 

- Back at the hot tub, Gordo is talking to Jessica and tells her he has videos of Lizzie that he has shot for his short films/documentaries. He offers to come over to her house to show her some of them to which she says yes, as long as he brings Lizzie along. 

Why is Gordo the only one wearing shades? It’s either he has sensitive eyes or he just wants to look cool, which isn’t something Gordo would do

- And just like that, Lizzie is going to watch videos at Jessica’s on Sunday night without agreeing to it. On top of that, she’s apparently going dancing at the ‘Shango Tango’ on Saturday night with them as well. Basically, they want to use Lizzie’s status as a model to grant them access to these places. She did one fashion show and they’re acting like she’s Gigi Hadid or whatever lol

Lizzie’s Famous Now

- At school, everyone is just staring at Lizzie everywhere she goes. Even Kate goes up to her and compliments her outfit and accessories. 

“My earrings match my eyes?”. This line is definitely memorable to me. 

- Plus, it seems like the tables have turned because Lizzie and Ethan have literally switched characters. When Lizzie is talking to him about an English test they just took, he’s acting like the old Lizzie when she’s around him; all awkward and fidgety. 

- Lizzie notices all of this and tells her friends how everyone is acting so different around her. Miranda and Gordo doesn’t view this as a negative; They like the fact that people are noticing them now and inviting them to all sorts of special events/parties. 

- After running away from the other students who were all just staring at her still, Lizzie hides in a room where Mr. Dig is and he then takes a picture of Lizzie to have it signed so he can sell it to his nephew...and niece. Well, putting that aside, Lizzie rants to her teacher how everyone and even her best friends are treating her differently nowadays since the fashion show. 

- Mr. Dig suggests to Lizzie that she should treat them like how a celeb diva would and treat them like dirt. This is to remind them that they are her friends and not her posse. 

Lizzie Brings Out Her Inner Diva

- Gordo and Miranda arrive at Lizzie’s house and Lizzie commences “Operating Superstar Brat” by acting like a total diva towards her friends. She’s even dressed up like one from head to toe. 

Even worse, Gordo and Miranda follow her orders and starts to bark like dogs, albeit their execution was a little sloppy lol.

- Soon after, Lizzie drops her act and tells her friends that they have changed. They clearly realise this and promise to Lizzie that things will go back to normal and they won’t act like her posse anymore. But the problem is, everyone else is still treating her differently. And this is the solution she came up with:

To act like a complete and utter fool on the runway. 

- I have to give props to Lizzie for having the courage to dress up like this and act this way in front of an audience. But if I were her, I wouldn’t want to give up a modeling contract with a popular magazine just because people are acting differently around me. I mean, I would at least give it more time to see if the situation would improve. Most of all, I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself publicly like how Lizzie did here. 

- Also, she didn’t have to include this dumb confrontation between her and Miranda. It just wasn’t necessary.

Y’all didn’t need to fight. The fashion show was already ruined when Lizzie started scratching her butt lol

B-Plot: Matt Goes Shopping

- Sam and Jo brings Matt and Lanny to the hardware/electronics store to shop for things he can get with the $50 gift certificate. Lanny gravitates towards the massage chair but it’s way too expensive. We then get a montage of the boys and Matt’s parents trying out different products at the store to the song, ‘Shopping’ by the Pet Shop Boys. It’s a pretty catchy song if you ask me. 

My favorite part of the montage is when they reference back to the Austin Powers’ villains, Dr. Evil and Mini-Me 

- Matt spots a hammock priced at $75 and he thinks it’s perfect for him. Even though it costs $25 more, Lanny is able to cover the rest because he’s earning money from his website. My question is, what kind of content is in Lanny’s website anyways?

- Back in the Mcguires’ backyard, Matt and Lanny are busy assembling the hammock they just bought but unfortunately for them, they got less than stellar results:

Exhibit A

- They are back at the store again and they want to return the hammock and get a refund. However, the store clerk, who is being a total prick tells them that they can’t get a refund on sale items. Okay fine but he needs to watch his tone when talking to customers. And he even called Sam an ‘old timer’. The disrespect! Sheeesh!

And the award for worst customer service goes to...

- Sam leaves behind Matt and Lanny to talk to the manager and afterwards, we see the two boys doing the absolute right thing by playing a prank on the useless employee who is walking on the treadmill. They proceed to tape his hands onto both handles and increase the speed on the treadmill. I’m not the one to agree with pranking others but this guy really deserved it.

Overall Thoughts

- This is yet again, a very entertaining episode. I love how the story was very Lizzie-centric this time and it did not disappoint. I mean, it was a little outrageous how EVERYONE was acting and treating Lizzie like a total A-lister after appearing in one fashion show. It’s like they assumed that everybody reads ‘Teen Attitude’ magazine.

- It kinda got me to think that maybe after the events of The Lizzie Mcguire Movie, I would assume that everyone at school would treat her similarly because she did perform a hit song in front of millions of people in Italy, which I’m sure it caught the attention of US mainstream media.

- Besides that, the soundtrack of this episode was incredible! I had to look up the songs on YouTube because they were so catchy. Lastly, Matt’s storyline was pretty insignificant in this episode and it didn’t really provide me with anything besides some physical comedy.

[airis-paris14]

Redemption 12

Summary: One person, a secret, and an ocean tore them apart. Six years later they find their way back together, but a rekindled love is not Redemption.

  “Someone is in a good mood,” Melanie observes from behind her sewing machine. “I am always in a good mood,”Zari grins. “Never THIS good though. You’re glowing too. Did you get laid last night! Baby daddy really know how to put it down!” Melanie squealed. “Shut up!” Zari threw a piece of fabric at her.

“You did!”Melanie screeched. “No I didn’t,” Zari insisted. 

“Didn’t what?” Renee asked, walking into the room, sweat covering her skin. “Oh lord,” Zari rolled her eyes. “Hello to you too.” Renee laughed. “Zari got laid by baby daddy last night,”Melanie explained. “Really?” Renee gasped. “Noo!” Zari insisted. “Oh it must’ve been good. She’s in denial she thinks it was just a dream.” Renee stage whispered. “For the last time we didn’t have sex.” 

“How big was it sis,” Melanie asked. “If y’all don’t leave me alone,”Zari sighed. “Well something is going on because you got that glow baby girl. Got it bad.” Renee settled into a chair. “If you must know, he is taking me out tonight after work.”Zari revealed. “What are you wearing? I didn’t see a change of clothes,”Melanie searched the room. “Why? What’s wrong with these?”Zari scoffed. “Sis! He’s a king!” Melanie exclaimed. 

“Ok?” 

“Renee please explain,” Melanie looked to the actress for back up. “Where are you going?” she asked. “I honestly do know. He said it was a surprise.” Zari though back. “How are we supposed to dress a surprise?” Melanie wailed. “I still think I look fine.” Zari insisted. “So do I,” Renee admitted. “Y’all,” Melanie pointed at both of them in turn, “Are disappointments.” Zari chuckled. 

“Knock knock,” Geoff and Lin rounded the corner. “We come bearing gifts from the king,” Lin declared. The three women shot daggers at him. Melanie gestured at Geoff. Lin’s face contorted into an ‘o’. “King? I thought he was her boyfriend.” Geoff stared at everyone. “Yeah, that’s just a nickname we gave him,” Lin back tracked. “Okay,”Geoff drawled placing the box in front of Zari. They all stared expectantly at the designer while she continued working. She looked up into the silence, “What?” 

“You aren’t going to open it?” Renee asked. “Will that make you all leave me alone?” A mixture of no’s and yeses floated around the room. “Fine,’ Zari pulled the large red ribbon off of the box. A note fell from out of the bow. I hope you like it - T”Challa. Zari knitted her eyebrows reading the note once more. “I hope you like it?” She mumbled

“Zar!” Melanie cried pulling open the white box on the table. “What?” The designer turned her mouthing forming an ‘o’. A long blue and gold dress sat nestled in the box. The beading sparkled in the studio lights. The corset too was outlined with gold trim as the full white skirt flowed down to the ground. “I think  this answers the question,” Melanie mumbled, “you don’t dress for a surprise. He dresses you”

 “This is a Versace,” Zari breathed. “I saw it on the runway less than two weeks ago.” “Never thought I’d ever see one in real life,”Renee sighed. 

“What does he do for a living?” Geoffrey frowned. “Politics,” The trio plus Lin replied in unison. “I didn’t know politicians made that much.”

“He’s special,” Zari offered. “Try it on. Make sure it fits!” Melanie pushed. “Mel, We have work to do.” 

“It can wait. I want to see this dress,” Lin spoke up. “I don’t know. I’ve really gotta get this done.”

The group shot daggers in her direction, “or not,” The seamstress sighed, inwardly smiling at the prospect of putting on the dress. Melanie immediately followed behind her to zip the back for her. Zari held her breath as the zipper ventured it’s way up her back. Only taking a breath when it clicked at the top. 

“You look absolutely stunning Zari,” Melanie gushed running into the costume closet to find some shoes. Zari slowly ran her hands over the beading as her friend rambled in the background. Time seemed to slow as she turned to face the mirror. Barely registering any part of Melanie’s questions. Her heart jumped a little at the first sight of her own reflection. The dress hugged her perfectly and seemed to dazzle in the filtered fluorescent lights. 

“Zar, you good?” Melanie’s voice penetrated her awe. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” the designer cleared her head before walking back into the main area. She gently pushed the curtains out of her way and blushed at Lin and Geoff’s faces. “Wow,” Lin murmured.

“Who the, where the fuck has this Zari been hiding?” Geoff added. “Shut up,” Renee popped the actor up the side of his head. “You look beautiful Zari.” Renee smiled handing her a pair of shoes to match the dress. 

“Thanks guys. I should probably get out of this now.” The designer blushed. “Yeah of course. We should go.” Lin smiled pushing Geoff out the door. “Have fun tonight Zari,” Lin winked before following Geoff out the door. Melanie quickly helped her undress and repack the dress for that night. 

“So, I’m staying behind to help you get ready for tonight.” Melanie asserted. “Mel, that isn’t necessary,” the designer responded, rethreading her sewing machine. “Okay. But I want to so…. I’m going to help you.” She replied, hand stitching a small tear in a pair of pants. “Whatever,” Zari sighed, grinning in her corner. “It’s okay, you don’t have to thank me right now,” Melanie grinned. The buzzing of Zari’s phone interrupted the relaxing silence that followed. 

I’ll pick you up from the theatre at 9. 

I know you like to work late. 

Zari grinned at her phone. See you then, she responded, grinning at the phone. 

“What time is lover boy coming anyway?” 

“He just text,” Zari started, placing her phone back on the table. “ 9. I understand if you can’t wait that late,” the friend offered. 

“What else would I be doing Zar? Just let me be a supportive friend ok?” Melanie reprimanded her. The young mom raising her hands in defense, “Fine, waste your evening.” Zari laughed. “Thank you.”

“Ok, he’s outside. How do I look?” Zari asked her friend, running her hands over the embroidery of her dress. “You look beautiful, stop worrying,”Melanie smiled, grabbing both of Zari’s hands. “He’s already head over heels. Just have fun.”

“Okay,” Zari breathed. “You got this!” Melanie reassured before sending the designer on her way. After making sure Melanie would lock up for her Zari began the quick walk to the theatre entrance.

Her heels kept time with her breathing. She paused slightly at the front door before pushing it open. T’Challa’s silhouette at the base of the stairs caught her attention. He turned to her smiling as he heard the door close. 

Zari tried to keep the grin off her face in vain as T’Challa’s mouth dropped open slightly. The king froze for a second before jogging up the stairs to meet her. “You, look ravishing,” he smiled, causing Zari to blush. “Thank you,” she accepted his hand as he helped her into the car. He quickly helped her in before making his way back to the driver’s side. 

“How was work today?” Zari missed the question as she watched the muscles in T’Challa’s arms ripple as he pulled the car into gear. “Zar? You ok?” the king smirked. “Oh yeah, it was fine. Got a lot of work done. “Good. I hope you like the dress?”

“Like,” the woman sat up in her seat. “I love it T’Challa! I can’t imagine how much it cost you though, thank you, truly.” Zari smiled. Admiring the young King’s profile. “Nothing is ever too much for you Zari. Besides, I never got to see you in a beautiful dress, since you missed prom..” T’Challa trailed off, frowning softly. “I’m here now. You’re here now.” She placed a hand on his thigh, tracing soft circles. The couple settled into silence the only sound being T’Challa clearing his throat. The seamstress continued tracing lazy circles on his thigh. “Zari,” groaned out, “if you keep doing that, that dress won’t make it to the end of the night on your body love.” 

“Sorry,” the women quickly drew her hand away, smiling shyly as she apologized. 

T’Challa gracefully maneuvered the car close to the curb when they arrived at the restaurant. He handed the keys to a valet and rushed over to help Zari from the car. Lights flashed around the couple as they made their way into the restaurant. The host showed the two to a semi secluded table at the back of the restaurant. 

Zari shifted in her seat, tucking her dress in around herself. “T’Challa, I feel so overdressed.” she whispered. “You are, but you look breathtaking.” the king grinned.

“T’Challa,” the mom whined. “I am sorry but I wanted to see you in that dress. As soon as my stylist sent me the picture, I knew I wanted you in it. Tonight.”

“Besides you look like a true Queen,” his eyes twinkled as he grabbed her hand and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. He placed another on Zari’s palm before opening his menu. 

When the waiter came around once more, the couple placed their orders and fell into small talk. Work,Aiden, and work again were the main topics. Everything was going beautifully, until it wasn’t.

“Your majesty, I sincerely apologize, but we are out of Tilapia for the lady’s choice of dinner.” the young man frowned. Eyes flittering between T’Challa and Zari. “Are you absolutely sure you are out? I called your Chef ahead of time to make sure that he had any and all ingredients on deck!”

I apologize your majesty. There was more than likely a mistake on behalf of our line cooks. The chef assures me that if the markets were open he would run and pick up the freshest fish himself. “I am sure he would,” T’Challa muttered. Zari suppressed a laugh, and her disappointment as she turned to the young waiter. Strategically placing her hand atop T’Challa’s to calm him. “May I have the same as he ordered?”

“Of course.,” the young man shot her a soft smile. 

“You called ahead?” the bronze skinned woman teased. “I just wanted everything to be perfect for you. For us.” The king sighed, gripping her hand in his once more. “It is perfec-” a round of coughing from a table nearby interrupted her sentence. The two glanced over at the woman, watching as she  coughed directly into the palm of her hand. “By bast, will she be alright,” the king muttered. Zari laughed, “as I was saying-” the woman’s coughing broke out once more. 

“For Bast’s sake, can I finish a sentence,” Zari sighed, turning to watch the woman once again struggle to contain her coughing.

“It is not her fault love,” the king began to grin as well. “I know, but still,” Zari laughed, unbeknownst to her, she encouraged the king to do the same. “Anyway. It is perfect.  I am here with you.” The king grinned at the love of his life over the table. The moment was interrupted by the arrival of their food. The two took ��a moment to orient themselves with the plate before digging in. Soon matching frowns blossomed over their features. “Is yours a little..” Zari started, clearing her throat. 

“Dry, flavorless, disgusting?” the king finished. “I was gonna say unpleasant, but those work too. The designer laughed, wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin. “I’m sorry my love, Shuri told me that this was a good restaurant to go to. Either their burgers are out of this world, or my sister has no taste buds.”

“It is fine.” Zari smiled. “But if you want good burgers, I can take you to a better place.” 

“That sounds wonderful.” The king smiled. He quickly took some bills out of his wallet before escorting Zari out of the restaurant. The two sat huddled together against the autumn chill of the city, the king’s armed wrapped around Zari’s waist. Pulling her close as his fingers traced patterns on her hip. “I love you,” he murmured into her fluffy twist out. The young woman smiled, inhaling the sent of him when he placed a lingering kiss to her forhead. “I love you too,” she smiled, as the car cruised to a stop in front of them.”

With a reluctant squeeze the king released her hip to open the car door. She allowed him to shut the door for her, and he gracefully moved around to his side of the car. 

A short set of directions, and a brief phonecall  later, the two pulled up to a small storefront restaurant. 

“I’ll be right back,” Zari smiled, hopping out of the car, and moving as quickly as her dress would allow. She ran in and hugged an older black man, before accepting two bags. She raced back out to the car and hopped in, shaking the brown bags as T’Challa pulled off. “Where to?”

“How about a little trip to the water? A friend owes me a favor.” 

Zari gave some directions and T’Challa followed as they pulled into a park along the banks of the Hudson River. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” Zari leaned closer to the king’s face. His pillowy lips millimeters from her own. “And don’t eat my food while I’m gone.” She breathed before hopping out of the car. “Her laugh followed her a little ways down the street. T’Challa let out his own chuckle as he watched her maneuver her way onto a medium sized ship. He hadn’t noticed it before, but that was not surprising. He rarely noticed anything other than Zari when she was around. 

Even now, only Aiden was the occasional exemption to the rule. Occasional. 

“He was pulled from his throughts by a soft knock on the door. An older black couple stood at the door.” T’Challa hesistantly rolled down the window. “Challa?” The older woman asked. “Zari sent us to come fetch you.”

The king inadvertently tensed. “Don’t worry young man. I promise she is safe inside your majesty,” the couple both quickly crossed their arms in a miniature x. “Lead the way,” T’Challa smiled stepping out of the car. Distrust still present but pushed to the back of his mind. He locked the car and followed the older couple up a short gangplank and into the bowels of a small yacht. 

“I am Kedu and this is my wife Imina. I rent yachts and charter private tours. While she delivers and midwife’s children. Especially for Wakandan war dogs or expatriots.” the Man explains as his wife slips down a separate hallway. 

The two men venture into the living quarters of the ship. “Is this how you met Zari?” 

“It is,” the old man smiled, gesturing for the king to take a seat on the couch. “One of the sweetest girls I ever met. Poor thing. Imina delivered her child and we took her, them, in as our own. Never would tell us who the father was. We didn’t push to hard. It is none of our business either way.” 

The king frowned slightly before hearing footsteps approach. Both women turned to watch the respective women of their lives appear from the kitchen. Imina walked over and gently grabbed her husband's hand. They bowed before their king before venturing off. 

T’Challa turned to Zari. “The ship is ours for the night. They live in a house next door and assured me that it’s fine,” Zari rambled slightly as she placed to plates with burgers and fries on a small dining table. 

The wall of windows surrounding the room, displayed the New York Skyline in all of its beauty. The king chuckled slightly. Walking over and slightly backing Zari into a corner. He placed his hands on either side of her. “It’s perfect.”

He placed a kiss to her lips, before moving to pull out her chair. “Shall we?”

Taglist: @chaneajoyyy @kumkaniudaku @royallyprincesslilly @oceanscorazon @sisterwifeudaku @almostpurelysmut @blackbypurpose @hutchj @tchoking @90sinspiredgirl @thedelightfulone @autumn242 @purple-apricots @queertrex @kaciidubs @halfrican-heat @leahnicole1219 @sarcastic-sunshines @sarahboseman @kreolemami @mzbritt @derangedcupcake @lalapalooza718 @ororowrites @sarcastic-sunshines @waitingonafriend @faatassbitch

[amazingmsme]

Preventing Apotheosis Part 1

This is the first chapter of my Spies Are Forever/The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals AU/crossover where the events of SAF took place in modern day and Curt gets sent on a mission to gather information on a strange meteor that fell in Hatchetfield and report back to HQ. But will Curt and his new partner be able to make it out alive?

Curt finally felt alive for the first time in four years. After getting back in the field, he swore he would never let himself slump so far into a depression like that ever again, even if he had to see Owen die before his eyes for a second time. Especially since the Owen he shot wasn't the Owen he had once known. No, his Owen was a lighthearted suave spy who always got the job done. He was sarcastic, funny, brilliant, there weren't enough words to describe how great he was. But the Owen he had faced wasn't that same man, not anymore at least. The Owen he knew had died when he fell off those stairs all those years ago. His eyes were cold and harsh and held none of the lively warmth they once did, and he was a complete sadist. He was going to torture him until he died, and he wore a sadistic grin the whole time. Not to mention the countless number of people he had killed. God, he had slaughtered so many young girls... Curt had no choice when he pulled the trigger. 

He felt his work phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out, looking at the screen. One new text from Cynthia that read, "Get your ass to my office now." He knew she probably wasn't mad at him, that's just the way she talks. Plus if she was angry, she would've used way more curse words. So he didn't feel too nervous when he walked into her office. 

"Sit." He did as he was told, much like an obedient dog. "I have a new mission for you. Just came in this morning, and we still don't have a lot of information, but that's where you come in. Late last night a large meteor fell in the town of Hatchetfield, Michigan and there've been a few reports of some of the residents breaking out into singing and dancing. Apparently this isn't the first time something like this has happened, so you're gonna be teaming up with someone who's dealt with this before." She handed him a file to flip through as she continued talking, "His name is General John McNamera and he works in a special division of the military known as P.E.I.P. Basically what they do is they go to these meteor crash sites and stop whatever the fuck is going on from spreading, and make sure no one else hears about it." She leaned back in her chair to prop her feet up on the table and took a drag from her cigarette. "I want you to get some samples from that damn space rock so Barb can run some tests on it. And anything else that seems like weird alien shit or whatever."

Curt blinked a couple of times, "Excuse me, did you say aliens?" He fought off his laughter because he knew from experience that laughing during a briefing would end in an ass kicking. She narrowed her eyes and took another puff, blowing the smoke in his face, "Or whatever. We still don't know yet, but based on the other events that have happened, it seems like it might be the case. Now I've been to Area 51 and I know that there's different kinds of these space bastards, so I need you to help me figure out what the fuck we're dealing with."

"Wait you've been to Area 51?"

"Yes."

"So aliens are... real?"

"Jesus Curt you're supposed to be smart! Do you honestly believe that we're the only planet with intelligent lifeforms? Give me a fucking break," she rolled her eyes, bringing the cigarette up to her lips and inhaling deeply, "Honestly I thought your clearance level would've meant you were informed about the existence of extra terrestrials, but clearly I was wrong. Although I'm sure your little "early retirement" brought that to a screeching halt, so no wonder you're out of the loop," she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Curt looked down at his lap, feeling embarrassed. Cynthia noticed and stopped laughing and gave him a gentle smile, "But to answer your question, yes aliens are real. You're gonna need to fly out as soon as you stop by and get the necessary gear from Barb and not a second later. If you can't manage to get a sample from the meteor, get some air samples and if you can, try to get DNA from the affected citizens. General McNamera will meet you at the Clivesdale airport and you'll take a boat to Hatchetfield since the bridge will probably be closed and going by water will be your best bet. " 

"Alright, and you said that people were... singing and dancing? What, like a musical?" 

"If we knew we wouldn't be sending you, that's kinda the point of this mission."

"Sorry, I'm just trying to understand this."

"We all are Curt, so get the hell out of my office and head down to the lab, Barb's waiting." Curt followed her orders and headed straight for the lab, smiling widely when he saw Barb.

"There's my favorite little scientist! What cool stuff do you have for me?"

Barb looked up at him dreamily before shaking herself out of her love induced state, "So I have some foldable collection tubes that fit in your pocket, a taser phone, a couple of poison dart rings, a pen that's actually an extendable grabbing arm for gathering samples without having to touch them, cufflinks that turn into a shield, a keychain that shoots acid, a few extra guns because you can never have too many guns, especially in our line of work, and I made a special gas mask bowtie just for you 'cause I heard the air might me toxic!" She finished her rambling and shoved a duffle bag into Curt's hands. 

He ruffled through, examining some of the gadgets, "Wow, thanks Barb! You never cease to amaze me," he said. She practically swooned, but he was too busy to notice. Even if he had she doubted that he would've done anything other than pat her shoulder at the most. He looked back at her then at his watch, "Well, if that's all then I better get going. Cynthia said I had to leave as soon as I got my things."

"Oh! W-well be careful!" 

"I'm always careful, how do you think I got to be the world's greatest spy?" She just shook her head as she watched him leave. Curt Mega sure was something else.

He went to the hanger where the jets were kept and after checking that it was ready for flight, he climbed into the cockpit and took off down the runway. He had the coordinates set and followed the path until he reached his destination.

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain (Part Eighteen)

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen | Part Sixteen | Part Seventeen | Part Eighteen

Author: Gumnut

28 Feb – 1 Mar 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 3119

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, Gordon/Penelope, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97 ​ Oh, this was fun to write. It may be called a trope, but I don’t care, it was fun :D Nutty got to blow something up, mwhahahahaha! I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

She eased herself slowly back into her life. She worked through a list of shocked friends, the necessary sympathy regarding her latest injury, questions about where she had been, how she was and what she was going to do next.

There were catch up lunches, new clients and Uncle Crispin.

He cornered her as soon as he could, which considering the state of the Siberian gas fields, wasn’t anywhere as soon as he would have preferred. He finally made it to her house two weeks after her month of seclusion.

The fact he actually visited the house was an indication of how worried he was. He hated the place, given all the memories of the family he had lost echoing through the hallways. His relationship with her deceased grandparents probably didn’t help either.

He hugged her the moment he saw her.

“How are you, honey?” He was the only person she would allow to call her ‘honey’.

“I’m getting there.” She smiled.

“What about the Tracy boy?” Sure enough, straight to the point.

“What about him?”

“You seemed pretty set on him at Christmas.”

“Yeah, well, that was Christmas and a lot has happened since.”

“Sally says Virgil is doing well.”

It took her a moment to connect the dots. Sally was Grandma Tracy. “As long as he gives himself the time to recover, he should be fine. It was close.” She shifted in her ‘scoot. “So, what’s the deal with you and...Sally?”

She couldn’t help but grin at the shy smile that spread over his face. That was the thing about Uncle Crispin. He was all tough adventurer on the outside, tough as nails, but on the inside, he was really just a soft, goofball.

Life had been as hard on him as it had been on her and his demeanour reflected that.

Sally had obviously wormed her way under his leathery defence system.

“She and I...Em, she makes me happy.” He grinned. “And I like to think I make her happy too. I can’t really ask for more than that.”

That sparked off a little self-reflection. “No, that’s exactly how it should be.”

Her uncle frowned. “Do I need to go park some dynamite under his ass?”

“You and your bloody dynamite.” An exasperated sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Sally says he’s pretty messed up.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Some big effort to decentralise International Rescue, expand the service somewhat and take the strain off the Tracy family. He’s not sleeping and not talking. She’s worried about him.”

A stare. “He took my advice?”

“Your advice? No idea. But the man is obsessed. Sally reckons you should check on him.”

“She does, does she?” She eyed her uncle. “What do you think?”

“Em, I’m with you. Whatever makes you happy.”

Whatever makes her happy? She had a list, but only a few of those listed things were entirely in her power, so she would focus on those.

“I’m going to give it time.” The words were said quietly and slowly.

His hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed.

Uncle Crispin inevitably couldn’t stay long. It was a reminder of how close his job was to that of International Rescue as he was called out to Siberia yet again. She missed him, but it was necessary. Besides, she had her own life to get back to.

She closed up the house in Margaret River, moved back to Perth and back to work.

It was a lunch date with a colleague that saw her on the pedestrian bridge right at the moment it exploded.

-o-o-o-

Scott hit the comms room at a run. “Report!”

John’s hologram was in the centre of the room. He had only returned to TB5 three days earlier after an extended training session with his extremely small team. Gordon had snorted loudly when Scott commented on the personnel involved. He must remember to ask him about that.

“There has been an explosion on a pedestrian bridge across the Swan River. Em is on the bridge.”

“Explosion? How do you know that Em is involved?” He felt like grabbing his brother and shaking him.

“Kayo, put a tracker in her hoverscoot.”

“What?!” This came from both himself and Virgil behind him.

“Regardless, the bridge has been destabilised at one end. We’re needed.”

Scott didn’t hesitate, heading towards his chute. Virgil didn’t either and that was enough to bring him to a halt. “Virgil!”

“You’re going, I’m going.” And he didn’t stop moving.

Damnit! “John, get Alan and Gordon to Thunderbird Two.”

“Already on their way.”

He yanked the fake light fittings down just that bit harder than usual just as Virgil tipped up backwards on his painting and disappeared.

Fear churned in his gut.

Em.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s chute, by the nature of its design was rough on his body. It had been at least a couple of months since he’d flown down it, so along with the adrenalin that always accompanied the ride there was a pleasant sense of accomplishment when it didn’t actually hurt.

His feet hit his ‘bird’s deck with a reassuring thump and no pain ricocheted anywhere. His heart was thudding and his breathing had spiked, but that could be considered normal.

Slipping into his seat, he automatically started pre-flight, the sequence so familiar, he didn’t even have to think.

The selector trundled out the modules and TB2 settled on the familiar Four. Moments later he heard Alan and Gordon rise up into the cockpit.

Kay sat down beside him in the co-pilot’s seat. What?

“Before you say anything, my presence is non-negotiable.”

Her eyes pinned him. “Okay.”

And his attention was taken with the launch. Thunderbird Two rolled out of her hanger and he opened the runway to let her through. Her familiar rumble vibrated through his bones, the adrenalin still pumping, his heart-rate matched her thrum.

Loaded onto her ramp, he pointed her towards the sky.

The clunk of external machinery.

An indrawn breath.

He fired her thrusters and she leapt off the platform, clawing her way into the blue.

-o-o-o-

There was a flash of light and a wall of sound hit her.

Her ‘scoot slid sideways and the people around her screamed as the bridge beneath her suddenly tilted sideways towards the water below.

At the far end of the metal and concrete structure a cloud of smoke was rising into the air.

Dust and debris rained down around her. Time froze in shock.

It started again as a woman to her right suddenly went down with a scream, clutching her arm. More screams erupted as the walkway wobbled again.

The only escape route was the other end of the bridge.

“Move! Move!” And she was grabbing people and pushing them in the direction of land. Em lowered herself to the woman who had fallen. There was blood pouring down the sleeve of her dress and she was terrified, but there wasn’t time to do anything about it. She got her to her feet and hurried her across the paving. “Run!”

The bridge shook again and there was an almighty screech of stressed metal as one of the spans arching over the structure broke off at its base. The sharp ping of support wires snapping and the massive arm of steel pendulumed, swinging down and along the edge of the walkway. The concrete groaned and cracked under her ‘scoot.

“Move!”

They ran.

It was a busy bridge in the middle of the day, even more so because a local market had been set up along the length of it. There would have been at least a hundred people walking across or browsing the stalls. As the walkway tilted further, craft items and marquees began to slide across the paving. Em used her ‘scoot to her advantage. It had grip where feet may not have had and her arms were strong.

She sped up, darting to grab a child falling towards the railing. She hustled people along, supporting them if they fell. As a whole the crowd moved at a frantic pace down the length of the bridge.

Until the other end of the bridge exploded.

She couldn’t help it, she screamed.

The whole structure shuddered and a large portion holding many of those fleeing people collapsed into the river below.

“No!”

She struggled to keep her ‘scoot steady as the walkway shuddered and tilted even further. She looked behind her. Both ends of the bridge had been destroyed. There was no way off the structure.

A man not far from her slipped and fell, the tilt of the bridge saw him slide all the way to the railing. He screamed as his foot caught in the grill and twisted, taking his weight.

Her hoverjets whined, struggling with the heavily angled surface.

Only to be joined by the sudden roar of rocket engines.

Thunderbird One tore up the Swan River, screaming to a halt above the bridge. Her underbelly opened and a grapple shot down and caught the walkway as it teetered further. VTOL roared.

And she heard his voice.

“Please keep calm. International Rescue is here to assist.”

-o-o-o-

His heart leapt into his throat.

The bridge had been decimated. Two explosions, one at each of the main pylons had mangled the steel spans that supported the bridge. The pylons themselves were fairly secure, but the walkway was swinging loose, its structure never designed to take its own weight without the support spans.

Wires were snapping and springing apart.

Human figures were falling into the water below.

“John, tell me what caused this.”

“Initial results still coming in.” A pause. “Incendiary. Likely a bomb or a series.”

“Shit.” A breath. “Tell me there are no more.”

“In depth scan in progress.”

“I need that information now.”

“Working on it.”

He bit his lip as numbers spun across the space between the bridge and the Thunderbird in orbit.

“No further explosives detected. Eos is repeating the scan as we speak.”

“Thank you, John. Advise the GDF. Thunderbird two, we need you here now.”

“On approach.”

And she was. The great green behemoth swooping low over the river, her VTOL churning the surface below. She came to an abrupt halt and released her module. She waited long enough for Thunderbird Four to dart into the river, before gathering the module back to her belly once again. She was going to need it. A flare of VTOL and she rose up and over the bridge.

“Virgil, deploy rescue rafts and stabilise the walkway. Gordon, you’re on victim retrieval. Watch for falling debris. Alan and Kayo, send down TB2’s grabs and start picking people off the bridge. I’ll be doing the same once you have the walkway stable.”

Virgil’s baritone followed by the rest of his family’s voices were a chorus of FABs.

Thunderbird Two quickly dropped a series of large self-inflatable support rafts onto the surface of the river on both sides of the bridge, before deploying her grapples to secure the walkway. The whole structure straightened under the strength of the Thunderbird.

“Scott, it’s too heavy for Two. We lose much more structural support, it’s going to drop.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Two.” Time was crucial.

The green ‘bird lowered her nosecone grapples geared with her rescue rig. The small figures of Alan and Kayo leapt off and started gathering people.

Scott disengaged his grapple and began deploying harnesses. As he was working, he couldn’t help but ask. “Where is she?”

John answered without hesitation. “On the main walkway, near the centre. She appears unharmed.” A hologram flashed up and there she was, her ‘scoot shooting back and forth gathering people and ushering them towards Two’s rescue rig. Something in his gut clenched. “Keep an eye on her.” And he resisted the urge to swoop down and grab her immediately.

“FAB.”

And the rescue effort began in earnest. Fly down grab a victim, reassure them, assess for urgent injury, harness them, transport them to one of the rafts, make sure they are secure, grab the next one. It was simple pick and grab. Thunderbird Two was filling Module Four with rescuees, Alan and Kayo darting across broken concrete and gathering people to the rig.

Gordon had the hardest job. The majority of persons who had fallen off the bridge were injured, and there were a lot of injured.

Fortunately, some more help arrived.

“International Rescue Australasia Oceania reporting for duty.” They arrived in a GDF flyer, but they had their uniforms and suddenly there were more hands to help. Gordon was joined by several of the aquanauts he had been training on the other side of the continent just the previous week. Figures supported by jetpacks not unlike his own darted out from the carrier’s underbelly and began snatching survivors alongside him. Field Commander Davis flickered up on his holographic display. “Commander, thought you could use a hand.” She didn’t smile, she was too professional for that. “IR AO is supplemented by several of our other recruits so we have more hands. Your orders?” The grey of her baldric sash shone dully in the holographic light.

Scott, however, couldn’t help but smile. “Pick and grab, Lauren. We’re on a time limit, so make it fast. Thunderbird Two can’t hold the bridge forever.”

“FAB.”

It was odd hearing that response from a voice outside his family.

The rescue sped up after that.

But not enough.

“Scott, we just lost a crucial support! It’s going to go!” Virgil’s voice wasn’t panicked, but it was damn close. Far above him Thunderbird Two’s VTOL screamed as his brother desperately attempted hold so many tonnes of bridge.

“Slave TB1, use her grapples.”

“FAB.” It would give them a few more minutes at least.

They almost had it. As John called the final evac, the rafts had been dragged to a safe distance, there were only a handful of people left on the bridge, several of them IR personnel attending to victims with life threatening injuries...

Em.

He caught sight of her just as Virgil swore over comms and Two plummeted several metres, the bridge sagging.

One of the support wires near her snapped under the sudden strain and whipped around... “Em!”

He was moving before thought, but still it played in slow motion just out of his reach. The wire slashed through the air, missing her, but catching her hoverscoot. A spray of sparks and she was flung sideways and over the edge.

-o-o-o-

It became a blur of terrified people.

When the rescue rig landed on the tilting deck, she took only a moment to acknowledge Kayo and Alan. Both attempted to evacuate her, but she knew she was useful where she was and refused. There were others who needed help more than she.

That didn’t stop them from trying several more times, each person she delivered to that rescue rig was accompanied by a visual plea from Kayo. Perhaps she had suspicions why, but this wasn’t the time to think about it.

The Thunderbirds above were joined by a GDF flyer and suddenly there were more IR personnel on that bridge. Her heart leapt as a man in blue swooped in to land, but it wasn’t Scott. He wasn’t even a Tracy and she realised that this was the embodiment of Scott’s strategic plan.

She handed him a baby along with the boy’s mother and she darted off to grab another child clinging to a crumpled market stall.

More and more terrified people were airlifted away. Soon it was down to the critically injured, those who couldn’t be moved without further injury. She and another IR operative had a teenage girl showing all the signs of a spinal injury when Kayo called out for final evac. Far above, even Em could hear the sudden strain of Thunderbird Two’s VTOL as the bridge trembled.

The concrete beneath her shifted and fell and her ‘scoot lost traction for a split second. She grabbed for purchase, but her fingernails scraped useless across the pavement. A screech of metal, movement, and she was thrown sideways. A blur of bridge railing, the world spun...

And she was falling.

Fast.

She may have screamed, but the rush of air stole it from her throat.

Her hands clawed at nothing. There was nothing, nothing-

She was surrounded by blue fabric. Warm, strong, breathing and, oh god, so familiar. It enveloped her, slowing her plummet, saving her.

She gasped and it came out a sob.

“It’s okay…okay, I’ve got you.”

She looked up and there were those eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes that haunted her dreams.

Furrowed in fear.

“Scott?”

He didn’t answer, just pulling her in closer as if he was clinging to her as much as she was to him.

-o-o-o-

He caught her mid-air, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close, slowing her spin and her fall. Oh god, he had caught her.

His breath hitched as she let out a frightened sob. “It’s okay...okay, I’ve got you.”

As he shifted into a hover, she looked up, ice blue eyes fixing on him. “Scott?”

Such hope and fear in his name.

He didn’t answer, just pulled her closer, holding on so tight, he felt he may never let go.

“Scott! Get out of there! It’s collapsing and I can’t stop it!” Virgil’s voice in his ear was drowned out by a roar and the shadow of the bridge above fell towards them.

Shit!

Holding Em close, he accelerated away from the tangle of falling steel and concrete. The shift in air pressure threatened to drag them in as the mass gained speed as it fell. Scott spun, darting to avoid the steel span that was following the walkway into the river. Em clung to him and he wished he’d had chance to harness her to himself.

He had never held anyone so tight.

Thunderbird One loomed, no longer attached to the falling bridge, her hover unaffected by the now churning river below. Flying through her open hatch, he was finally able to draw in a breath as it closed behind him.

He lowered her gently to the passenger seat. “Are you okay? Are you injured?”

Em didn’t answer and he realised she was trembling. He crouched down, his gloved hand reaching for her.

She stared at him for a moment, but still didn’t say anything, her hands going to the harness holding her to the ‘scoot.

Her fingers fumbled with the buckles until he reached in to help. Without a word, she slid herself free and he lifted the dead piece of equipment away.

Something dark glistened in the empty seat.

He spun back to find her staring at a spreading red stain on her skirt.

-o-o-o-

End Part Eighteen.

[queensofrap]

Most Misunderstood: Iggy Azalea's American Dream    

he early reality of Amethyst Kelly is difficult to imagine. There was once a small home in the tiny Australian town of Mullumbimby, made of red brick, cemented by mud and laid by her father's careful hands. Her mother would spend her days emptying trash bins at a motel as a vacation rental cleaner, a path Amethyst would eventually follow at age 14. Water didn't always run, clothes were never new, and bathrooms were separated from the home by a muddied path. It's a tale of immensely humble beginnings, a hemisphere away from the life she would come to inhabit as Iggy Azalea a decade later. And while her origins are unfathomable for some, it's Amethyst's American dream that remains universal.

I first witnessed a glimpse of that dream in the fall of 2011. It was through a cracked iPhone screen, held casually by my friend. "You have to see this bitch," she announced, flicking her perfectly coiled locs and turning up the volume. "She's every-fucking-thing!" There, on the screen, was a tall, curvy woman with ice-blonde hair and creamy incandescent skin. She was surrounded by two brown cheerleaders in matching green uniforms, strutting in towering heels and rapping furiously: My world, rhyme vicious/ White girl team, full of bad bitches. Immediately, I recognized her: this confident, eccentric girl who didn't fit into preppy white hierarchies. While others girls were quoting lines from Mean Girls, imagining themselves Regina George, she appeared as someone I knew. A girl unruly and self-possessed, always late to class, always blasting D4L. I could see her crafting beats with her knuckles and strolling into class hours late, another detention slip placed on her desk. We were sold.

If "My World" was the bait, "Pussy" was the hook, line and sinker. Iggy, Iggy/ Pussy illy/ Wetter than the Amazon/ Taste this kitty! Her accent was thick and affected, reminiscent of our cherished childhood favorite Diamond from Atlanta's Crime Mob. The "Pussy" video was a Boyz N The Hood homage with ATLien pastiche. There were ice cream trucks and babysitting, front porch posing and concrete runways, sherbet-colored pants and shredded shorts. And we weren't the only ones taking notice of Iggy and her ways. Seemingly overnight, our private cafeteria secret had become a viral phenomenon.

“ Here I am at the darkest period of my life, contemplating suicide, and I'm singing "Switch.“

Press came quickly, grand and bold. The New York Times suggested that "all this proximity to blackness characterizes Iggy Azalea as a person who is no stranger to black culture and communities, suggesting it's no anomaly for her to rock the mic." The Los Angeles Times described her flow as "brash and aggressive," while Complex decided that she was ready to "really make her mark on the game." Classmates had her image as their screensavers and sprawled across their Tumblrs, and were dropping her name in new music debates. She performed at small venues in Atlanta and cars across the city boomed with Never not better/ Law should ban it! A few months later, when "Murda Bizness" featuring T.I. dropped, her dream was actualized. She was not a one-hit wonder. She was a star, poised to rise.

There are many forgotten Iggy freestyles from that era. In one, she raps over Chris Brown's "Look At Me Now," prophesying her divisive nature. In another, titled "Home Town Hatred," she reflects on her time in Australia and her desire to leave. Over Kanye West's ominous "Hell of A Life" beat, she details how industry executives told her to dumb it down. But it was her 2011 "D.R.U.G.S." freestyle that first illuminated the parameters of her ignorance.

Reflecting the industry's tendency not to look at things too deeply, at first the song went unchallenged. (It would be a year before its lyrics were critically examined). In fact, Complex covered the freestyle, commending her craft and comparing her to fellow white rapper Yelawolf. The following January, Iggy signed to major label Interscope, tweeting, "Get used to me + Jimmy [Iovine] smashing shit, cause that's the plan."

In February of 2012, she landed the coveted cover of XXL's Freshman Class issue: an annual declaration of hip-hop stars poised to break big. Between up-and-comers French Montana and Future stands Iggy in a lush green fur. She was the first woman to ever grace the cover — a backhanded achievement. For many, XXL is a bastion of hip-hop excellence. To be a cover star and stamped with their approval was to suggest an imminent dominance. If Iggy could be shot, styled, and photographed for her buzz, where were the black women who broke the boundaries, paved the lanes, and inspired her craft?

It was Harlem-born musician and artist Azealia Amanda Banks who first articulated concern about Iggy's image and her space within hip-hop. On Twitter, Banks wrote, "Iggy Azalea on the XXL freshman list is all wrong. How can you endorse a white woman who called herself a 'runaway slave master'? Sorry guys, I'm a pro black girl. I'm not anti white girl, but I'm also not here for any1 outside of my culture trying to trivialize very serious aspects of it."

Media outlets immediately crafted Bank's criticism into a heavily publicized rap beef, thrusting Banks into the insidious stereotype of bitter black woman. The line Banks referred to was a re-interpretation of a Kendrick Lamar lyric on Iggy's "D.R.U.G." freestyle. In Kendrick's 2010 track "Look Out For Detox," he raps, When the relay starts/ I'm a runaway slave. In Iggy's version, she says, When the relay starts/ I'm a runaway/ Slave master/ Shittin' on the past/ Gotta spit it like a pastor.

Conversations surrounding the lyric lacked necessary context. Journalists missed questions and painted simple proclamations. In October of 2011, Banks had tweeted, "how sexy is iggy azalea?? It's kind of ridiculous…*tugs collar to let out steam*." In January, she wrote "Iggy Azalea's hair looks really great in her new video. How long do you all reckon that hair is? 40" in? By March 2012, the dream was dented, with Iggy being called out as misappropriating at best, racist at worst.

She issued a heartfelt apology, which fell on mostly unsympathetic ears. Two months later, Iggy was dropped by Interscope. Her debut album, The New Classic, stalled indefinitely. But still, there was room for redemption. In April 2013, Iggy signed with Mercury Records, a UK subsidiary of Universal Music Group. After recording new music in England, she returned stateside, armed with a completed album and a firmly set 2014 release date. During press runs she's tested: asked if she's an imposter; if her body is enhanced; if the cringe-worthy assumptions about her mentor T.I. are true. Old tweets were dug up, which made the disdainful murmurings worse. She's asked to freestyle on Sway, but instead inexplicably recites a line from her own album. Her music begins to change, becoming less lyrically explicit and trap-influenced, and more poppy and prim. Now a Complex cover star, she fumbles when asked about her divisive rapping accent. She's quoted saying, "This is the entertainment industry. It's not politics." Soon enough, that statement would no longer be true.

In 2012, political discussions had begun to dominate all forms of media. The slain lives of Trayvon Martin and Jordan Davis became proponents of combustible change. Movements like Black Lives Matter materialized, refusing silence or forgetfulness of the innocent and slaughtered black people, churning hundreds of American murders into global narratives. Each case, though singular and specific, represented the transgressions of America's not-too-distant-past and its perpetual present. If there was once a time when innocent victims could be smudged from history and their murderers left unscathed, that clock no longer ticked. Images of callous violence circulated more than music. Cellphone and camera footage displayed women being beaten, children being shot, and men being strangled. Language seemed to shift, relegating all ignorance to silence; expanding itself to capture the expansive feelings of others. And at the top of the same year, "Fancy" was released. Like lightning, Iggy's dream merged seamlessly with reality. She was now a star with a verifiable hit.

With her Clueless themed video for the inescapable track, 2014 became the year of Iggy's art. She held the number one spot on Billboard's Hot 100 for seven consecutive weeks. She luxuriated in the second spot too, appearing as a featured artist on Ariana Grande's "Problem." Billboard claimed Iggy tied with The Beatles and attached her name to the legacies of Mariah Carey, Missy Elliott, Lauryn Hill, and Nicki Minaj. She was now booking prime-time television spots — appearing on Good Morning America with Charli XCX — and on the covers of grocery store aisle magazines. Forbes declared her "Hip Hop's New Queen of Rap" and she was nominated for four Grammys. Simultaneously, America's racial rhetoric and division began to feel claustrophobic. In early February, Yvette Smith was murdered on her front porch. In August, Michael Brown Jr. and Ezell Ford were shot and killed. November was the month Laquan McDonald and Tamir Rice became portraits of unfinished lives. In July, Eric Garner was placed in an illegal chokehold, his last words becoming a symphony of unbearable sadness. The dichotomy between a world callously slaughtering black people on one end and rewarding a white rapper with success and visibility on another was dizzying.

What is it like to attach oneself exclusively to a dream, to pursue it even as the odds are stacked against you?

By 2015 the dream dissolved completely. Iggy was accused of racism, cultural appropriation, minstrelsy, and ignorance, becoming the perfect conduit for whiteness and all of its horrors. Her silence during racist events was considered complicit. A world tour was canceled, and neither a follow up album or a Top 10 hit reappeared. In 2016, she announced Digital Distortion, her sophomore album that was ultimately held after three singles — "Team," "Mo Bounce," and "Switch" — and a leaked music video. This year, Iggy released "Savior" with hopes of a refresh.

To some, she was an untalented white supremacist Barbie, infiltrating a space crafted by black people and laughing to the bank. Her dream — an innocent one of music, money, and acclaim — had become grotesque. To others, she was an iconic legend who was just easily projected upon. Now a refracted mirror for public opinion, a line was permanently drawn: black or white — no in-between.

But for me, there's always been a gray area. In art, in music, and in life, there is a space where the eye can shift inward to ask and answer questions. What might it look like for a young girl in Australia to re-discover life through hip-hop? What did it look like to want to manifest a world of make-believe, to create art once unseen? What is it like to attach oneself exclusively to a dream, to pursue it even as the odds are stacked against you? What do you do when you can't separate criticism from hate? When each day you're bombarded with projections based on media machinations? What does it look like when your dream comes true, when it's finally real, only for it to be mocked? To me, it's a perfect portrait of America.

At The Roxy Hotel, in New York City, I sat with Iggy Azalea. We spoke about her life, her dream, her craft, and her upcoming music. She was thoughtful and articulate, eyes glinting with Gemini humor and intellect, deeply apologetic and severely misunderstood. This is what transpired.

Can you take me back to your childhood? I read that your hometown is called "The Biggest Little Town in Australia." What was it like?

I still don't know why the fuck they call it that. It was a really small town, incredibly rural, but there's a looser, less stereotypical element to it. There were a lot of crystals and hippies, weed smokers, and horoscopes. The town was split between this hippie, carefree fairy spectrum, or conservative farmers and their crops. My parents were on the fairy spectrum, but I went to public school. Everyone there was straight-laced with names like Amber and Stephanie and there I was as Amethyst, with platform shoes, and immediately it was like, Okay, bitch prepare to get bullied.

What were the students like?

There were two schools. One was private and more artistic, and that's where all the people that could be considered carefree and more imaginative were able to go. The public school was very sterile, very conservative. The private school was expensive and my family had no money for that, so I went to the public school and I was miserable. These were the children of bricklayers whose parents drove tractors and guys who played football on the weekends. I got teased for everything. Literally everything, there was no winning with those kids.

I'm ignorant to Australia — I've never been — but there is the classic stereotype of the tanned, athletic, white Australian. When we think of whiteness, we often forget its specifications, even the types that are lauded and coveted. For instance there's the archetype of the popular blonde. You were tall, pale, and curvy…

Oh my goodness, yes! And I was never that girl. Not even anywhere near that girl's posse. I never fit in and there was a time I really tried to fit in. I remember getting teased because I hadn't shaved my legs yet. I was only in sixth grade and I had never even thought of something like that. They would call me "monkey" everyday. One day I got my mom's razor and shaved my legs thinking it would finally be over and it wasn't. There was always a new thing. My hat. My mole. My weight. All of these things now seem so dumb, but I didn't do anything like them and there was no appeasing those kids.

When did you first think of leaving?

I always knew I was going to leave because I knew I didn't belong with any of the people that lived there. I only decided I wanted to go to America when I visited the states with my grandparents. I was 11, and I remember seeing all the showgirls in Las Vegas, all their sparkles and rhinestones. They were the most fabulous girls I had ever seen. I had only seen something like that on TV, and it blew my mind. Then we went to Hollywood, and there were all these wig stores and the Star Walk, and just seeing all the ways people dressed, how they styled their hair, the color of their wigs, I wanted to be able to do all of those things. When I wanted to dress like this in Australia, I'd get shitted on. But coming to America and watching people put on a show, watching them being ridiculously fabulous, no one was doing that where I was from. Nobody was even wearing high heels in Mullumbimby.

When did you put the plan in action?

That happened when I really started to get into music. I was insanely confident, with the kind of deluded grandeur that I think you need when no else believes in you. I thought I was good at it even though in retrospect I was bad still. I was about 14 and that's when I started writing music. I'd go to open mic nights and take the bus all over the city. I'd go to battle raps, I'd get booed. There was a sound audio engineering school, called SAE, and the first music I ever recorded was there. From 14 to 16, that's when the plan formed. As soon as I started writing, I knew music was what I had to do. Even if I wasn't a rapper, I thought I could be a sound engineer or a writer. I just knew I wanted to be involved in music. And I knew I had to get the fuck out of where I lived. It was suffocating me. I wanted to live in a place where the sky was the limit, a place where my dreams weren't strange or weird, where others had even crazier ideas than me. I knew all of that was in America, and that's where I had to go and that's where I thought people were going to accept my wild thoughts. I tried Sydney and Melbourne and they just weren't it. Nothing else was.

"I wanted to live in a place where the sky was the limit, a place where my dreams weren't strange or weird, where others had even crazier ideas than me. I knew all of that was in America."

Why Miami first?

They had a SAE campus in Miami. I thought I would be able to get in and get a student visa. I saved up enough money to live there for a couple of months, but I didn't have enough to live and go to school, so I ended up not going.

Next was Houston. What was that like?

I only lived there for a year. This producer found my music through Myspace, and he said if I was ever in Houston to let him know. Then he told me all the people he produced for, and I was so excited because I really loved Rap-A-Lot records, so I went. I met him and he was really cool. We recorded a bunch of songs and we would go to Metropolis. It was in a strip mall and everyone would just hang out in front of their cars, and inside one side was reggaeton and the other was a Slim Thug record chopped n' screwed. The plan was to give the DJ your cd and hopefully he'd play it, which they never do. Then you'd hangout in the parking lot until someone has a fist fight and then you go home. Those were my nights there. Just absorbing everything. I made some friends and then Hurricane Ike hit. Most of my friends were moving to Atlanta because their homes were destroyed. I went too.

How were you making money?

Two of my friends introduced me to their sound engineer and his girlfriend would come to the studio and drop him off lunch. She and I ended up becoming roommates. I told her how I had gone to Thailand before and how fascinated I was with the hair. How you could get in bundles and stuff. She said we should save up money to go and then bring it back and sell it to salons. So we saved up and went on our last dime. She had just graduated college and was working at Bank of America and we went out there and got a bunch of hair. When we came back we sold it super quick, wholesale, to all the salons. It was insane. Technically, even though I didn't have a work visa it isn't illegal if you invest in someone's business. So she registered it as little corporation under her name and I invested in it.

There's this idea that there was "Fancy" and then boom — immediate success! But there were a lot of setbacks.

Obviously there are years that people don't know about. I was in Atlanta for nearly two years just writing for people. I was doing so many writers camps for other known artists, just trying to get my spot. That's why there were a lot of pop demo references that came out. Everyone accused me of wanting to be a pop star and that wasn't something I've ever been interested in. I would write pop music with other people and try to get it placed. I've always rapped. Even the video that came out of the pop song, that was just some shit I did with my friend. We were playing.

The wildest thing is that there are so many reports that I used to be a model and that's always been strange. Just last week on my Spotify profile my bio says, "Iggy Azalea was a high profile model before she became a rapper." When?! I would have loved to be a high profile model, but last time I checked I'm a fucking size eight. What the fuck runway or editorial model do you know that size? There's so much of those kind of rumors that have a mind of their own now.

How did you end up in LA?

The music I was making in Atlanta, I started putting a couple of songs online. They didn't have anymore than 300-400 views. I still don't know how the fuck they found me, but an A&R at Interscope messaged me. He told me he had asked his girlfriend at the time, "Who do you think is cool?" And she played him my music. I was skeptical but he ended up being legitimate. He said I should move to LA and as soon as my lease was up, I went.

When I moved there they put me with a bunch of people. They were trying to help me make connections, but they didn't really understand what I was doing. I met these guys who make up "D.R.U.G.S." about a year after I moved to LA. We'd record in their garage. YG was there. Mustard was there before he was DJ Mustard. Ty Dolla $ign was there all the time. That's where I made Ignorant Art and put out "Pussy."

That song was such a success, Interscope must have been happy.

I had gotten to the end of things with Interscope and was at the point where I felt like since they didn't understand me, this would be a "fuck you." As soon as I put out "Pussy," they called me and said they totally understood the vision. It was a "what the fuck" moment. For nearly a year I had been trying to explain it to them, and suddenly when I did it on my own they want me? I don't think they truly got it, I think they just saw the numerical element to it.

Were you signed to Interscope yet at that point?

I finally had my meeting with Jimmy Iovine after that, and they wanted to sign me. The problem was my A&R wanted to manage me. Interscope, at the time, was working on an in-house management team with LMFAO. They wanted me to sign a document that literally detailed how signing would be a conflict of interest. They gave me two options: sign or leave. I had so many potential deals with other labels but in the end I chose Interscope. We got all the way down to the agreement and, the day of, the deal was dead. Completely done. I had bigger offers, better offers, and I stayed to be loyal to the people who helped me when I was in Atlanta.

What happened?

That was a Jimmy situation and it had a lot to do with Azealia Banks. They wanted to sign her and it became a conflict of interest. Once that happened, everyone wondered why I wasn't signed, why Jimmy didn't want it, and it brought into question my worth as an artist. No one wanted to fucking touch me at all. I couldn't get a deal anywhere after that. Before this I could've asked for a fucking elephant, a Ferrari, four monkeys, and a million dollars — after there was nothing. People wondered, What was wrong with Iggy Azalea? That's how it works with these things. I was done.

What'd you do next?

I had to go to England. I got new management based out of the UK and went and recorded a bunch of music in Wales with a few producers from America. I recorded "Work" and most of The New Classic there and went and shopped a deal in England. They were the only place that didn't give a fuck about what had happened in America. I signed to Mercury Records and after putting out my music there, I came back to America to get upstreamed through Universal Records. I put out five singles through Def Jam before I ever had "Fancy." I toured with Nas before "Fancy." I toured with Beyoncé before "Fancy." I toured my own tour in Europe and North America before "Fancy." I had done five tours before I ever made "Fancy." "Fancy" was truly the last attempt. Not for me to quit music, but for the label to quit me. They had given me four video budgets, none of them exceeded their expectations, and "Fancy" was their last hurrah. For them it was like either this works or it doesn't, but we're gonna put the album out and see if it sells. I decided to do something left and do Clueless, and it worked. Luckily, we had so many attempts before that with the label and this one worked.

What was that moment like?

I was really happy and surprised. I've always known the art I make is pretty left. I didn't expect it to connect. Music has changed a lot from when I first started, but at the time, my music was considered left. There was a lot of monumental success from "Fancy" that I didn't anticipate. All these people were discovering my music and suddenly I'm doing shows with 6,000-7,000 people. It was way more than I ever imagined. I thought I'd be doing basement shows or college parties and even that was so cool to me. I thought I had fully made it! I didn't think beyond that. To see brands that I knew, magazines, all of these mainstream fixtures, people, and media embrace my music, I never could have dreamt that.

When "Fancy" gained such visibility, the media seemed to adore you. Billboard said you tied with The Beatles and bested Michael Jackson. Forbes declared you "Queen of Hip Hop." What were your thoughts during that time?

It was very strange. I never said I was the queen of rap, I've never even thought that. I truly think it was like a great white hope, similar to the film Rocky. All of these people were championing me and branding me these things because of their own projections and not only were they outlandish, they were all incredibly premature. I had just started and there was this influx of, "Queen of rap! Queen of the world! Best record ever! Song of the century!" And so everyone starts saying, "No she's not, fuck her! She has some fucking nerve!" And all of those are things I never said.

What were your thoughts when you were then nominated for four Grammys, including Best Rap Album and Best Record of the Year?

I remember sitting at the Grammy's praying to God I didn't win, literally crossing my fingers, hoping there was no media frenzy. I didn't ask to be nominated. I don't even think I deserved nominations. People were so frustrated with those headlines and all those articles became attached to me personally. People assumed that's how I saw myself, or how I thought of my music. It's never been that. There was this element of trying to humble me, a moment where it seemed like, "Oh this bitch thinks she's this? We're gonna fucking show her that she ain't shit."

Did you ever anticipate that side of fame?

I've always known that I'm controversial. I love to move the needle. Things like "Murda Bizness," yes — I'm going to put toddlers and tiaras in a music video and I know many won't understand it. Or with "Pussy," yes there is a child and I know it pushes buttons. But I think that the best things in pop culture are polarizing. I knew I would always come with controversy, but that was a different kind of controversy. I didn't anticipate that. I didn't even anticipate the success. I didn't think that would be the thing that made it all come crumbling down.

"I think that the best things in pop culture are polarizing."

What is your biggest regret during that time?

I wish that I would've handled criticism better in the beginning. I knew I was polarizing. I aim to be polarizing, sometimes too polarizing where I've pushed the limit too far. When I first got here, there was so much I thought I understood that I really didn't. I've really had to learn a lot of things by being here and having friends and seeing things play out in real life. Especially in the last few years in culture and how far conversations have come, I look back and cringe.

Like what?

Things like the Kendrick lyric, something I profusely apologized for and have learned from. That wasn't okay. It was insanely ignorant. That wasn't an experience to toy with. Sometimes you have to learn the hard way, specifically with that line, like fuck, I hate that I said it. There was so much criticism that came with "Fancy" and I wish I would've handled it better, but it felt very thick.

Everything was coming from every angle. My success. Being worn out. Having lawsuits. I had five different court cases and all of that factored into my responses. It was hard to decipher what criticism was valid and what criticism was just hate. Even with Azealia, we've since spoken and in retrospect, I'm sorry that I trivialized the way she felt about her experience as a black woman navigating the music industry. She and I have our own history and beef about other shit, but when she went on the radio and spoke there was validity to it. Those were her experiences that many others could relate to and I can't take those away, but at the time I thought it was her saying 'fuck you' and trying to hate on me.

You felt what she said was valid in the end?

There were so many critiques she made that were valid. I wish I hadn't been so defensive and emotional, but it invalidated important conversations that shouldn't be overlooked. It created a situation where it looks like I'm unable to be accountable, or I'm unable to accept criticism, that I'm tone deaf, and a fucking idiot. I felt like I had to defend myself against everyone, and that attitude didn't work in my favor. I wish I didn't give impulse responses and say things that made it worse. I was just popping off shit, and I wish I would've thought before I spoke. The problem got so big that I didn't know how to handle it, and I just thought I'll just go away and wait until it blows over or gets better. But it won't just get better, I have to acknowledge it and have conversations about it because otherwise it seems like I don't give a fuck or I'm not ready to take accountability.

Why do you think you weren't able to hear the criticism at the time?

I think when you're an artist and you're just starting out, especially as someone who isn't American, there's a difficult line to walk. I came here when I was 16 and people don't seem to understand that that time period truly defines who I am. They don't get that a lot of these things are my genuine influences, the same way they were informed and influenced by their surroundings. I really did live here. I lived in apartment full of people from Jamaica and after work we'd battle rap by the pool. I really did have friends that were involved in illegal activities. I was actually in the south, recording with Dem Franchize Boyz, listening to Outkast, Dungeon Family, Field Mob, Crime Mobb. And that seems incredibly hard for people to swallow. People think I should rap about Australia in an Australian accent but I'm 28-year-old woman now. I can't rap about being 10 and living in Australia. That never inspired me. My time in America, my time in those cities, were when I really started having life experiences that were worthy of going into my music. It all happened here in this country.

"I wish I hadn't been so defensive and emotional, but it invalidated important conversations that shouldn't be overlooked."

On some of the leaked tracks for Digital Distortion you didn't seem afraid to acknowledge it. Tracks like "Middle Man," "7Teen," and "Elephant" were incredibly aggressive and direct. What happened with that era?

For the record I love Def Jam, there are a lot of people that I truly respect and like. The problem I had during this time was that I was preparing to address how I felt. I had gotten so pop, and when you have success as a pop artist it makes the label a lot of money, so they pushed me to keep churning out hits. They pushed for more branding money, more endorsements — that's their job. And I made the conscious choice to go along with it because I was making a lot of fucking money.

But in doing that I think I isolated a lot of my original supporters. I also stifled myself creatively because I wasn't making the kind of music I wanted to make. If I wanted to make endless hits, I would have been making pop music from day one. I just lost my passion. I didn't feel motivated in the studio. When I told them I was going to make an album, I sat there with the president of the label and told him that his 10-year-old daughter is probably not going to like the songs. I said, "She's not gonna want to come to the concert," and I could see a look of pure horror etched on his face. The expression of, "Fuck, the money maker is going to make some weird, non-radio album."

They weren't backing you up.

There was no support in my decision. They couldn't understand it unless it fit into a radio format, but I knew I would never have success again unless I connected with my original fans. That's what I knew I needed for me to have authenticity and for me to feel passionate. Not only that but for me to just endure life. Everything was falling apart and I need to love the music I'm making and truly believe in it. When I delivered the album, they wanted to know where the radio hits were. All they wanted to create were songs like "Switch." And those songs are great, but pop records don't work without a foundation. Those big songs are supposed to be cherries on top, not just a roof with no house. Pop records are like Skittles, they taste really good but if you eat too many you'll feel sick. They're not a creative meal. Here I am at the darkest period of my life, contemplating suicide, and I'm singing "Switch."

Can you tell me a bit about this new era — Surviving The Summer?

Releasing "Savior" was incredibly therapeutic for me. It felt good to have a record where I can talk about depression, and just let down all my cards. It's completely different from a lot of the other tracks which are heavily rap.

Who are you collaborating with?

I'm working with Detail. I'm working with Pharrell. There's still going to be those unexpected Diplo elements like my early mixtapes. I'm really taking it back to that place. I started with Digital Distortion, but that was really aggressive and angry. I'm not in that place anymore. I'm happy. I know my fans want me to rap and I want to give them that. I want to give them the hard shit that they love, the shit that's different, that moves the needle. I hope people will support it.

From your rapping accent, to your pop accolades, you're constantly criticized for being inauthentic — specifically within the hip-hop realm. What do you think, ultimately, of those debates?

The way I've always felt about music is that I never approached anything as partial to a genre. There's never been a sense of this is a pop record, this a rap record. Even with the way music is today, there are so many melodies and variations to any song, any genre. I think a big part of the judgement in those things — not exclusively for me, but for most women in the music industry — is misogyny. Do you know how many men are on pop records? When they do it, it's rewarded and they're considered smart for reaching a bigger audience.

People like to pick and choose the rules. We bury things that don't give our theories sense. Everyone does it, it's human nature. I feel like with me, there's a lot of reasons why people are trying to invalidate me. Is it not authentic because I make pop music? Or is it because I'm from Australia? What about the fact that I've been here for 12 years? What about white rappers who are saying the most absurd things about hip-hop, but in the club everyone's singing their songs? Other rappers are allowed to do the things that I do — even things I would never even think of doing — but it's okay because they have likability, or a different perception attached to their image, or a fucking dick. People are misogynistic. It is what it is.

"Fuck what I was doing before, I'm doing new shit. It's exciting."

Do you feel like you're a new artist now?

Yes, 1000 percent! It's almost harder now because when you're new people have no preconceived notions about what you are or what you represent. When you become mega successful and you go mainstream, no longer is the sky the limit. It becomes, "Oh she's mainstream, she's had a Steve Madden deal, she's on Cosmo," and the art becomes dissected in a new way with more eyes. But I like it. Sonically, when I'm in the studio, it's fun approaching music as a new artist. Fuck what I was doing before, I'm doing new shit. It's exciting.

[artificialqueens]

Échappé / Chapter 7 (Branjie) - DenDenMonMon

A/N: Things will be happening now. The idea was to write nothing too explicit, maybe like the movie channel after ten o’clock but, well, this story decided to go Places. Sorry (kinda). -Monkey.

AO3 Link

Chapter 7

They were early, and Brooke knew it. People often joked about her, her and the medical condition that made it physically impossible for her to be late. Technically, they weren’t wrong. She just couldn’t risk not being on time. That was the reason why she rushed all her dancemates to get changed as fast as they could after the show to make their way to the club.

Ben drove the limousine through Hollywood Boulevard, the dancers stuck their heads out of the sunroof. They laughed, and screamed, and waved at tourists, like teenagers on their way to prom.

Brooke felt happy, the happiest she had been in a really long time. She wasn’t entirely sure why, or, better yet, she had so many reasons to be happy that picking one would be unfair. Instead of worrying about that, she basked in the feeling of accomplishment. They had finished one more leg of the tour and she couldn’t be prouder of her team. Everybody worked so hard and the results were a marvelous set of shows worth celebrating.

The loud music could be heard coming from the inside of the club when they got there. Brooke stared at the neon letters blinking in the same colors as the last time she was there. The girls had offered the strip club as the venue for the after party; Brooke figured the ballerinas would object, but the response was nothing like she had expected. Once again, she was surprised to realize how intertwined the different dance groups had become. Two completely different worlds had merged and given birth to one big, dysfunctional family.

Silky was on stage, thanking a dancer who picked a police uniform up from the floor, and did her attitude check. Brooke yelled her reply with the rest of the club as she led the girls to their reserved area. She sat on the same couch as the time before, and the rest of the company quickly filled that and the two adjacent booths.

A waiter appeared, tray with drinks already in hand, and informed them the first round was on the house. The ballerinas took one each and raised their shots at the same time, toasting to a job well done. Brooke gave a few words, not really in the mood to deliver a full speech when there was a girl removing her pants on the platform behind her. Nonetheless, she wanted to thank her friends for all their hard work, and encouraged them to take the next city by storm. They drank and danced to the music used to accompany the stripper on stage. The dancer wore nothing but a thong and a couple of the ballerinas approached her, placing dollar bills in the straps holding together the small piece of fabric.

After that performance, Silky took the microphone again. All the lights went out except for the big spotlight above the stage. “Alright, y’all! We are having a celebration tonight!” She shook her shoulders, making her breasts bounce arrhythmically. The crowd clapped and cheered, oblivious of the reason for the celebration, but infected by the happiness of the host. “We have some fancy-ass guests in the audience tonight. These girls, they can set stages on fire, girl. They are fabulous dancers, who sell out… theaters, probably arenas, too. I’m guessing. I’m not sure. And, apparently, tonight they were on a budget,” she spoke the last words between chuckles, eliciting the ballerinas to giggle right along with her. “Nobody is judging,” she pointed, and winked in their general direction. “We do have a little surprise for you, you high class hoes. Not only because you did that Disney princess movie typa thing, but for everything that you have done for us, for our girls, for our center. Now, y’all may have saved our asses but don’t forget to tip our girls, okay. Every dollar counts, honey. Hit it!”

Between cheers and whistling was that a girl appeared on stage. Trixie did a cute little number. Dressed as a cowgirl, she moved around the platform to an upbeat country song. Brooke’s eyes immediately went to Katya, who mouthed the words as Trixie peeled pieces of clothing off her body. Brooke had never heard that song before, and Katya never liked country; Brooke had to wonder how come her friend knew all the lyrics. As she fixed her stare on Katya, Brooke noticed she knew the steps too.

There was a sharp pain in her heart when Katya moved to place a stack of bills in Trixie’s bra. They kissed openly for a moment too long, before Trixie went back to her song. Katya mimicked every move from the side of the stage. Brooke could very easily see Trixie and Katya, really late at night, practicing the number; maybe at the girls’ apartment, maybe in Katya’s rented suite. It was a beautiful mental picture of two girls falling instantly in love. They had become so close just to be separated after a few weeks. Because that was what hurt Brooke, her friends having to part ways for a long period. That was surely it.

Looking down at her phone, Brooke realized it was already past midnight, they were technically leaving the next day. A sigh escaped her lips heavily.

Yvie was next on the stage. She twisted her body in ways that could not possibly be human, and took her clothes off in a way that was more entertaining than sensual. The crowd loved her, and showered her with money as she went around the pole at the end of the runway.

Brooke knew what was coming next. Her body tensed as she sat with her back impossibly straight.

The lighting changed again and, even when she was covered with a cloak, Brooke could recognize those pony legs stomping on the stage. Miss Vanjie stood in the middle of the runway as Rihanna’s voice sounded loudly all around them. The beat dropped and that’s when the covering garment found the floor. Vanessa’s hair looked incredibly long, let down in natural waves that almost reached her butt. She wore some sort of basketball outfit with her own name printed on it, white letters against black fabric. If it had been anyone else, it would have looked silly, on her, it looked insanely sexy.

Vanessa, with her mocha skin covered in glitter, moved around the stage at an incredibly fast pace. She commanded the entire floor doing nothing but walking in her leather boots, her hips swaying more than necessary as she waited for the music to pick up again. Her hair followed like a dark curtain behind her until she flipped it over one shoulder. There was a dramatic change in the tempo as she hit her second mark.

Her dancing was hot and sensual. She dropped to all fours, crawled across the floor, and knelt down right in front of the ballerinas’ booth. Her knees spread apart and closed together several times, the muscles of her thighs contracting underneath the pair of black shorts. The palm of her hand landed flat against her breast, her tongue went up against her lip as she massaged herself through her clothes. She lowered her hands and played with the hem of her shirt, revealing her toned stomach. Brooke suddenly wanted to run her tongue between the muscles of her abs. She settled for the best next thing. She got up and went to Vanessa, just in time to see the top flying across the stage. Her fingers came in contact with hot skin as she placed dollar bills, one at a time, in the waistband of the shorts.

“Thanks, Mami,” Vanessa whispered against her hair, before placing a soft kiss on her cheek and getting up.

The song ended too quickly, and Vanessa left the stage with her sparkling underwear still on. Brooke was actually happy about it, but that was a thought she wasn’t going to entertain. She knew what Vanessa did for a living, she knew that Miss Vanjie was a major part of who Vanessa was as a person, Brooke couldn’t possibly have any negative feelings towards it.

Luckily, before she could spiral down that particular chain of destructive thoughts, the strippers joined the ballerinas. There was loud screaming, congratulations, and more glasses of shots going around.

Vanessa, still in her underwear, right away moved to Brooke and stood between her opened legs. “Hey, there, my little fairy.”

Brooke couldn’t help but smile. She ran her fingers through the ends of Vanessa’s hair as she spoke. “Did you like the show?”

“Bitch, I loved it. My ass sat there in awe for the whole two hours, ADHD and all!” She laughed loudly, sinking down slowly and finding a seat on Brooke’s lap almost without noticing.

Before she could reply, Nina called for Brooke’s attention. “Hey, Brooke! We have decided on a name for you two.”

Nervous chuckles left Brooke’s lips. “What?” she asked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Branjie!” Nina offered, as if the word by itself meant anything. “You know, Brooke and Vanjie. Branjie!”

Brooke was shocked to see how everybody agreed with the name, commenting on how fitting it was and pronouncing it repeatedly, tasting the new term against their tongues.

With a roll of her eyes, Brooke dismissed the subject. “Oh, shut the fuck up everyone. Go away!”

The group laughed at her response, making her even more uncomfortable; but then Vanessa was getting up and pulling her by the hand. “Actually, Branjie,” she drawled the word, her voice going up a few octaves. “Is the one that’s gotta bounce. See ya later, hoes.”

They started walking away and nobody stopped them. Brooke allowed herself to be dragged to the back of the place, where she remembered the private area to be. A rush of heat went through her when Vanessa pulled the last curtain of the row opened, pushing her inside the pink cubicle.

“Sit,” Vanessa ordered, it wasn’t a request. Brooke could do nothing but obey. “You paid for a lap dance that you never got, remember?” A slight nod of Brooke’s head answered the question. “We run some serious business around here, child, and there’s nothing I hate more than an unsatis… unsate… a not so happy customer, okay?”

It wasn’t like she wanted to ruin the mood, Brooke knew exactly where the situation was going, but she had to laugh at the minx before her. It was fascinating how Vanessa was this sexy cultural mixture that would stumble with her languages more often than not.

However, the giggles died on her lips as soon as Vanessa’s hips started swaying. With her legs closed, and bending her knees, she slowly went up and down, her body moving in sexy waves that formed a perfect S. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly and her lips parted slightly. Her hands went up and down her sides, stopping momentarily to unclasp her bra. Her fingers easily unhooked the little silver wiring between her boobs, and then dropped her arms, slightly stretched back, to let the garment fall to the floor. Brooke was sure she hadn’t seen anything sexier in her life. She bit her lower lip and pressed her thighs together. The wave of heat had found the perfect place to settle in her crotch, where she throbbed to the rhythm of her speedy heartbeat. She could feel the wetness pooling between her legs, and felt almost embarrassed. She felt like a teen, getting turned on just by witnessing a sensual dance; nobody had even touched her yet.

Vanessa took care of that right away, almost as if she could read her mind. Each of her legs landed on the cushions as she straddled Brooke’s lap. Her hands found support on Brooke’s shoulders and her hips started rocking back and forth. Vanessa wasn’t really following the music that came from the main area, but Brooke didn’t care. The soft touch of skin on skin made it irrelevant. She could feel the heat emanating Vanessa’s body, trespassing through her own skirt.

Tilting her head to the side, Vanessa made her hair rest on one side of her head. She pressed her cheek against Brooke’s face. Soft grunts and light puffs of hot air hit Brooke’s ear, who simply sat there as Vanessa’s core traveled across her thighs and hit her pelvic area repeatedly.

She looked down, just to admire the small perky breasts pushing against her torso. She licked her lips, wishing she could be licking something else.

“You know you can touch, right?” Vanessa asked, before her lips wrapped around her earlobe.

Brooke shivered unintentionally. Her body responded automatically to the movements and saltry tone of voice of the fireball on top of her. Without thinking about it, her hands landed on Vanessa’s butt, guiding her to rub against her harder and faster. She parted her legs slightly, and that was enough cue for Vanessa to snake her hand between them. Brooke knew what Vanessa was going to find, she was sure she had soaked her own underwear. In a twisted way, it turned her on even more. She wanted Vanessa to know what she was doing to her.

A deep groan came from the back of Vanessa’s throat when she found her prize. “Oh, Mami, you are so ready.”

Their lips met for the first time that night as Vanessa entered her. It felt like a million stars had burst inside Brooke’s body, galaxies crashed with one another and filled her with light. There was nothing but emptiness around her, she could hear nothing but the sound of wet lips smacking together. Fireworks were starting to line up, ready to be set on fire any minute now, which forced her to stop. Somewhere between the fog of desire, Brooke had a clear view of things. She didn’t want their first time to be like that. Not in a place with see-through curtains and on a couch where who knew how many people had done the same thing. They deserved more than that.

She took a hold of Vanessa’s wrist, stopping the thrusting of her finger. “Let’s get out of here.”

Vanessa bit Brooke’s lip, then ran her tongue over it to sooth the pain. “Your place or mine?”

“How is that even a question?” Brooke smiled, letting her know there was no harm in her words, and pushed her to stand. “Go get your stuff. I’ll get us a ride.”

Brooke gathered her things, giving explanations to nobody, and soon was joined by Vanessa in her basketball outfit. By the time they exited through the backdoor of the club, Ben was already waiting for them.

“You better look away, Benny Boy,” Vanessa warned as they climbed into the backseat. “Things are about to get real hot real quick back here.”

The driver chuckled softly. He didn’t respond but did move the rearview mirror a little bit higher, unsuccessfully avoiding the makeout session taking place behind him. It took mere seconds of mouths capturing lips, tongues running against teeth, and hands brushing over skin, before he decided to put the division up without asking.

Downtown LA was far from Century City, where Brooke rented a condo during her stay. Yet, without the day traffic, and time becoming completely irrelevant to the kissing couple, it felt like they got there in a blink of an eye.

Surprisingly, they were able to contain themselves as they went through the lobby. The elevator ride did nothing but build up the sexual tension. When Brooke punched in the code, and the doors slid open, all restraints were forgotten. She placed both hands on Vanessa’s face and kissed her, hard but slow. The nearest wall worked as support as Brooke pressed Vanessa against it. She wanted to take her time, to make each second count. She wanted to let Vanessa know just how much that moment meant to her.

“You are so beautiful,” she whispered into Vanessa’s mouth.

Vanessa was tiny, despite the high heeled boots she never failed to wear. Brooke had to hunch over just to kiss her properly. Taking advantage of her position, Brooke dropped to her knees with ease. She hooked her fingers to the elastics of the shorts, pulling down and letting them pool around Vanessa’s feet.

“I need you to tell me if I’m doing it wrong,” Brooke’s words got lost between Vanessa’s thighs.

“Bitch, don’t tell me you have never – oh!”

Brooke smiled proudly at the reaction. Her lips curled up as she sucked on Vanessa’s most sensitive spot. She dedicated her sole attention to the bundle of nerves, sucking, kissing and running her tongue around it. She kept a steady pace, literally feeling how Vanessa melted above her, before pushing a finger in.

“Yo, girl, you want to kill me, child?” A second finger was inserted to her words, making Vanessa scream in surprise.

It felt so natural to be there, on her knees, pleasuring such a beautiful girl. Brooke could stay like that forever. Vanessa, however, had a different idea. Just when her legs started to give out, she pulled Brooke’s hair, mumbling something about that being unfair and exhaling a request to be taken to the bedroom.

There was no time to lose. The pair of shorts was left right there in the middle of the hallway, and the black thong was dropped somewhere around the living room. When they reached the bedroom, Brooke gave Vanessa specific instructions to keep the boots on. She obeyed. With a kinky grin adorning her lips, Vanessa moved to undress Brooke. She took her time, and Brooke felt about the explode with each painful second.

They fell on the bed in a naked mess of limbs as their mouths devoured each other.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Brooke confessed, when the lack of air forced them to pull apart. “It’s just so… unbelievable.” Her breathing was heavy, she could feel her chest going up and down erratically.

Vanessa’s hand traced lazy circles around her navel. “Do you want to stop?”

“Are you kidding me? Fuck no!” Brooke confirmed her words by thrusting her hips up, connecting Vanessa’s hand to her center.

It was a matter of seconds before Brooke was shaking uncontrollably, her inner walls clenching around three very skillful fingers. She returned the favor in the same matter, pushing Vanessa over the edge a few minutes later. The second round of sexual bliss found Brooke screaming Vanjie like a mantra, her hands keeping Vanessa’s head in place between her legs, allowing Vanessa to lick her through the waves of pure pleasure. The next orgasm hit them in an awkward position. Brooke’s flexible leg stretched up to rest next to her own head, meanwhile Vanessa sat on her crotch, and grinded their sexes together until they came at the same time.

Being with Vanessa was making love for the first time. All of those times that Brooke had had sex before crumbled and disolved into nothing in comparison. She wondered why she even bothered in having any other sexual partner in the past, it was clear she was meant to become one with Vanessa since the beginning of time. It had finally happened, they had finally found each other. It was a comforting thought, one that pulled her into the most peaceful sleep she’d experienced in her entire life.