#Simon wanting to be a hot young man with long white hair is so relatable

[taviokapudding]

Simon Petrikov has always been a GILF and before the crown took over his mind, I think we can all agree long white haired - not ice king yet Simon was kinda hot before the madness set in

Now that I have your attention - hear me out AT fandom- what if Ice Prince in Fionna’s dreams is what Simon/Ice King thought he was throughout the original Adventure Time series?

I always thought Ice King having extremely high self confidence was just a gag or joke before we learned about who Simon was- but there’s tons of instances where he declares he’s hot & doesn’t mind showing off his body in the original. And with the canon 12 yr time skip, we know now everything about Fionna & Cake’s AU and Ice King’s actions to form the AU was based off the madness of the crown playing into Simon’s wish fulfillment, trauma, & life; but also a form of escapism from his reality as a lonely man in a world he cannot relate too.

In the original & first appearance of the AU Ice Queen is H O T {and I’m not just saying that as a pansexual} she is leagues more attractive than how Ice King was and I would argue looks more like what I think Betty would look like if she wore the crown. She’s wish fulfillment but being heavily crown coded explains why she’s no longer Simon’s mind/Fionna’s dreams.

But Ice Prince? That is way more Simon coded than crown & also doesn’t match any of the male background characters we do see in episode 1. What if that’s not just Simon wishing he could be more like Ice King but instead what he actually thought he looked like the whole time the crown controlled him for all those centuries? That would explain why Ice King was so shameless but also partially explain why Simon mentions in ep 2 of Fionna and Cake that he both misses but hates what Ice King looked like.

Yes it’s a Tuxedo Mask reference & an obvious sign Simon still has some magic powers, but you cannot deny that if Simon wanted to dress as Ice King he’d probably go a more Ice Prince style to line up with how he currently dresses. If the AU remained the AU that was all originally knew, Ice Queen would’ve been some evil Sailor Scout or Queen Beryl coded character to Fionna Campbell; Ice Prince wouldn’t be a thing if it was just an alternate universe. And that tall glass of frosty water is definitely what Simon wished he looked like {honestly me too, Ice Prince is so gender}

EDIT: Btw in ep 2 of Fionna and Cake, Ice Queen is seen as the icecream vendor and she looks nothing like Simon but way more like a cross between the Gunther penguins and crown. And yes I know Fionna “dates” Ice King in the original au - my point still stands that it’s still what Simon wanted/thought he looked like with the crown on. Fionna Campbell would be into a very blue robes & wacky eyebrows Ice Prince and Ice Queen wouldn’t be just an icecream vendor who’s nice to kids if the crown had influence still

#mun post #simon petrikov #fionna campbell #fionna and cake spoilers #spoiler #spoilers #fionna and cake #adventure time #ice prince is going to live rent free in the unattainable white haired men I’d s #-mash list because daaaaaaaaaaamn #ice king #ice prince #Simon wanting to be a hot young man with long white hair is so relatable #also ice king getting naked and showing off his body has a whole new layer than just a gag #looking back on those Ice King self confident moments- it was incredibly messed up foreshadowing now that I think about it #as someone recovering muscle mass I feel Simon about being upset at what ice king actually looked like- homie lost 90% of his leg muscles #wait I just remembered- Gunther used to break ice king’s legs with a brick too like b r o he barely had bones for legs #Simon’s ideal being a perfect bishonen hottie with nice proportions #has layers of trauma in there I just know it

[hits1000]

Top Songs of 1972 [Hits of 1972]

Top Songs of 1972 [Hits of 1972] Top Songs of 1972 including: Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California, Alice Cooper - School's Out, Andy Williams - Speak Softly Love, Arlo Guthrie - City Of New Orleans, Bee Gees - Run To Me, Bill Withers - Lean On Me, Bread - Everything I Own, Carly Simon - You're So Vain, Chicago - Saturday In The Park, Chicory Tip - Son Of My Father and many more! Subscribe to our channel to see more of our content! https://www.facebook.com/hits1000top https://twitter.com/Hits10001 1. Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California 2. Alice Cooper - School's Out 3. Andy Williams - Speak Softly Love 4. Arlo Guthrie - City Of New Orleans 5. Bata Illic - Michaela 6. Bee Gees - My World 7. Bee Gees - Run To Me 8. Bill Withers - Lean On Me 9. Bread - Everything I Own 10. C. Jérôme - Kiss Me 11. Camilo Sesto - Algo De Mí 12. Carly Simon - You're So Vain 13. Chicago - Saturday In The Park 14. Chicory Tip - Son Of My Father 15. Christian Anders - Es Fährt Ein Zug Nach Nirgendwo 16. Chuck Berry - My Ding A Ling 17. Claude François - Le Lundi Au Soleil 18. Climax - Precious And Few 19. Daniel Boone - Beautiful Sunday 20. David Bowie - Starman 21. David Cassidy - Could It Forever 22. Deep Purple - Smoke On The Water 23. Die Windows - How Do You Do 24. Don McLean - Vincent 25. Donny Osmond - Puppy Love 26. Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show - Sylvia's Mother 27. Elton John - Crocodile Rock 28. Elton John - Rocket Man 29. Elvis Presley - Burning Love 30. Gallery - Nice To Be With You 31. Gérard Lenorman - De Toi 32. Gianni Nazzaro - Quanto È Bella Lei 33. Gilbert O'Sullivan - Alone Again (Naturally) 34. Gilbert O'Sullivan - Clair 35. Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes - If You Don't Know Me By Now 36. Harry Nilsson - Without You 37. Hot Butter - Popcorn 38. Jimmy Osmond - Long Haired Lover From Liverpool 39. Johnny Nash - I Can See Clearly Now 40. Juliane Werding - Am Tag Als Conny Kramer Starb 41. Julio Iglesias - Un Canto A Galicia 42. Lobo - I'd Love You To Want Me 43. Looking Glass - Brandy 44. Los Diablos - Oh, Oh July 45. Mac Davis - Baby Don't Get Hooked on Me 46. Michael Jackson - Ben 47. Micky - El Chico De La Armónica 48. Middle Of The Road - Samson And Delilah 49. Middle Of The Road - The Talk Of All The USA 50. Mike Brant - C'est ma prière 51. Mina - Grande Grande Grande 52. Mouth & MacNeal - Hello-A 53. Neil Diamond - Song Sung Blue 54. Neil Young - Heart Of Gold 55. Nino Bravo - Un Beso Y Una Flor 56. Paul Simon - Mother and Child Reunion 57. Pooh - Pensiero 58. Raspberries - Go All The Way 59. Roberta Flack - First Time Ever I Saw Your Face 60. Roberto Carlos – A Distância 61. Rod Stewart - You Wear It Well 62. Slade - Mama Weer All Crazy Now 63. Slade - Take Me Bak 'Ome 64. Steely Dan - Do It Again 65. Stevie Wonder - Superstition 66. T. Rex - Metal Guru 67. T. Rex - Telegram Sam 68. Terry Dactyl And The Dinosaurs - On A Saturday Night 69. The Carpenters - Goodbye To Love 70. The Hollies - The Baby 71. The Move - California Man 72. The New Seekers - Beg, Steal Or Borrow 73. The Osmonds - Crazy Horses 74. The Osmonds - Down By The Lazy River 75. The Rolling Stones - Tumbling Dice 76. The Sweet - Little Willy 77. The Sweet - Wig Wam Bam 78. Three Dog Night - Black and White 79. Vicente Fernández - Volver, Volver 80. Vicky Leandros - Après Toi Related Searches: Reaction Greatest Hits of 1972, Best Jukebox 1972 Playlist, Late 1972 Non Stop , Top 1972 Non Stop, Mix 1972 Compilation, Best 1972 List, Late 1972 UK, Best 1972 Playlist, Best 1972 Non Stop, Best 1972 Video, Greatest 1972 Non Stop, Mix 1972 Playlist, Best Jukebox 1972 List, List of 1972 Mix, Top 1972 USA, Best Songs of 1972, Top Music 1972, Hits of 1972 Relate Hashtags: #songsof1972 #hitsof1972 #topsongs1972 #listof1972mix #hits1972 #bestsongs1972 #classic1972playlist #greatest1972nonstop #best1972list #best1972video #top1972mix #greatest1972video #mix1972playlist #top1972nonstop #mix1972compilation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Df5WNQ2sPBw

#80S Greatest Hits #Songs Of 1980S #Old Songs #80S Songs #80S Music Hits #80S Hits #80S Songs Playlist #Grea

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

When Clary meets Ash (Fan Fic)

Hey :) this is how I imagine Clary and Ash's reunion (after the events of TDA) in the fic I am currently writing.

It's Chapter 5 of "The new Shadowhunter Academy" (Ao3 link to the full fic is here but don't click or skip Chapter 4 if you are not in for Kitty sexy times).

Thanks to @amchara for providing beta work and to @blaidr for letting me bounce my ideas off him.

To give you context, Ash met Dru in Faerie and they exchanged their numbers. Clary seized the opportunity to obtain Ash's number from Dru and write him the following text message:

“Hey, Ash. Dru gave me your number and please don’t be angry with her, I am very strong headed and there was absolutely no way she could have refused. I am Clary. You may have heard of me. I am your late father’s sister. That’s right, your aunt. You can call me whatever you like. Emma told me what you did in Thule, how you saved her. How you saved everyone. That was very brave of you. In a way, both of us were faced with a very difficult choice and made the same. Doing what we thought was right. I would love to meet you and tell you about my mother – your grandmother – or just talk about anything. It can be things totally unrelated to the Shadow world. Hobbies, movies, books and games we like. You can pick the time and place. Neutral territory. Hope to see you soon. Clary.”

This is what happens following the text:

*****

Clary wrapped her oversized woolen coat tighter around herself, as she made her way through the crowded streets of Manhattan. The route was familiar. She took it almost every week to meet up with her parabatai and have what they called their “mundane hour”. They talked about everything, from Clary’s art to the latest TV shows they had binge watched. No topic was off the table, save for anything related to Shadowhunter duties, and the Shadow world in general. As co-head of the New York Institute and since recently, artist owning her own gallery, her weeks were very busy so she looked forward to those rare and precious moments when she could escape with Simon. Her heart rate seemed to accelerate with each of her steps, and it didn’t help that she also had the strange feeling she was being observed. When she reached her destination, she took a deep breath and opened the double glass doors leading her inside the coffee shop. She and Simon had their regular routine there, and her gaze went automatically to their usual spot, near the large windows.

A broad-shouldered jock with a baseball jacket was already sitting there, speaking loudly to his cheerleader girlfriend. Two of his friends were standing next to him, mock punching his muscular arms. It made her realize that Ash probably never had this. High school friends and romance. Ash. She was still struggling to figure out why he had asked her to meet up at this place, at the exact time she usually got there with Simon. Was it him being considerate, a clumsy way to make her feel comfortable in familiar surroundings? Or was it a warning? I know your habits, and precisely where you take your coffee, when and with whom.

Her gaze swept over the crowded room - her heart seemed to have moved up her throat, the frantic pulse almost choking her - and zeroed on a tall, white blond haired boy ordering coffee at the counter, standing with his back to Clary. She sucked in a breath. Ash. He was fully clothed in black - Dru had told her that was his usual style - and huge headphones were covering his ears. She slowly and cautiously approached him and when she was close enough, put a tentative hand on his elbow. “Ash,” she whispered. The boy glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes quizzical and… it was not Ash.

She mumbled an apology.

“Clary,” said a voice coming from behind, and she froze. It was not a boy’s but a man’s voice, the sound beautiful and ethereal. She just stood there for a few seconds before she slowly turned.

What had she expected? Merely a taller version of the young boy with pointy ears and a sour expression that she had met three years before, dressed in the same refined velvet clothing threaded with gold that identified him as fey royalty?

If so, she had clearly been mistaken.

She blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks. He was tall, as she had anticipated (Sebastian had been after all). At least two heads taller than her and probably taller than Jace. But he was also very different from the Ash of her memories, from the sketches she had drawn of him after they had crossed paths. He had amazingly grown into his features, his face now the best combination of the Seelie Queen and Sebastian’s. As if he had picked the most alluring colours of the palette. And the result was… Stunning. Clary’s hand twitched, aching for a pencil.

He was not dressed in black, but in plain blue jeans and he had stuffed his hands in a very elegant, long pale gray cashmere coat. His white blond hair and pointy ears were concealed under a deep green beanie, the same colour as the scarf around his neck.

He arched a silvery eyebrow at Clary, his expression bemused, and she realized she was staring.

“Clary, seriously?” he said, his gently scolding tone at odds with his enchanting voice. “This guy isn't even half as good looking as me." He glanced pointedly at the patron in question, who was gaping at him, and shrugged. "No offense, dude,” Ash added as an afterthought.

He turned his attention to the barista. She was beautiful, dark skinned with long braided hair and pouty lips. “Hello, gorgeous. We’ll have a double espresso with oat milk and a dash of cinnamon for the lady and a plain black coffee for me.”

Clary stifled a gasp and tried to hide her discomfort. He knew exactly how she took her coffee, and she didn’t know how she felt about this.

The pretty barista nodded eagerly, her cheeks red and her big dark eyes dreamy as she stared at Ash. “Why don’t you… Go sit at your table and I’ll bring you your beverages when they are ready?” the girl offered enthusiastically. The long line of patrons that had formed behind Clary and Ash would probably disagree but she didn’t seem to care.

“That would be lovely,” Ash said in his euphonious voice. “And so are you.” He winked at her, and Clary wondered if she would need to catch her while she swooned. He paid before Clary even had a chance to reach for her purse.

“Come,” he said in a commanding tone, as he made his way to Clary and Simon's usual table. This was unnerving.

The jock seated there paused in the middle of his conversation with his girlfriend when he saw Ash stand casually next to him. Clary braced herself for a heated exchange, but she should have known better.

“You want to sit somewhere else,” Ash said evenly, one hand inside the pocket of his designer coat and the other stretched out in front of him as he studied his fingernails.

“I want to sit somewhere else,” the jock repeated in a monotonous voice, his gaze blank. He stood, as if in a trance, and his girlfriend and friends followed him, puzzled, to an empty table at the far end of the room.

Ash drew a chair for Clary and she sat. He did the same, opposite her. He pulled off his beanie, and shook his silvery hair, like a crown of liquid white gold. He wasn’t dressed for the part but he had never looked more like a prince.

“Ash… please don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Your mind tricks.”

He cocked his head and observed her, his face unreadable, for what seemed like an endless minute.

“You’ve been my aunt for what? Five minutes? And you’re already trying to boss me around?”

“I am not trying to boss you around, Ash. Simply asking you not to abuse your powers.”

A shadow flickered across his green eyes.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Clary. I spend much more time and energy holding back than using my powers. If I did let go, trust me, you would know.”

Clary opened her mouth to reply but was cut short as the barista popped in front of them and placed the mugs on the table. She slid a paper napkin to Ash, her phone number scribbled on it. Clary tried not to roll her eyes, as Ash flashed his dazzling smile at the girl, who almost tripped on her own feet as she returned to the counter.

Clary lifted her cup to her lips and paused, as she caught sight of the cinnamon powder floating on the surface. She put it down.

“What about this?" She pointed at her coffee mug and waved around them. “ What is it, if not a show of power? What are you trying to tell me? That you know everything about me? That you’ve been spying on me?”

Ash pulled on a fake shocked expression, mouth open and green eyes wide in mock innocence. “Spying on you? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Ash. The evidence is right here.” She lifted her cup abruptly, and hot liquid splashed out of it. “You know exactly how I like it. When I take it, where I take it.”

Ash’s mouth twitched. “Where did you pick up these lines? From the script of some lame X-rated movie?”

“Adult movies have storylines?” Clary asked, arching her eyebrows.

“Of course they do. Where do you think the Grimm Brothers took their inspiration from?”

He grabbed the paper napkin and started mopping the coffee she had spilled on the table. The blue ink faded and the barista’s phone number vanished.

“You lost that girl’s number,” Clary noted.

Ash shrugged. “I have a girlfriend now.”

Right. Drusilla Blackthorn. From the moment she had met her, Clary had known that the smart and quiet turquoise-eyed girl would someday turn heads.

Clary knew that Dru hadn’t really confirmed their relationship status yet, but it was neither the time nor place to broach the subject with Ash. She was, after all, on a mission to win over her nephew and had not been doing a very good job so far.

A young lanky boy with pink hair and piercings covering his skin walked by and dropped a glossy flyer of the upcoming Mortal Instruments concert on the table between them. Clary hid a smile. It reminded her...

“I have something for you.” She said as she fumbled inside her bag and took out the drawing she had made of Jocelyn, Luke and herself, in front of Luke’s upstate farm (before it was turned into the new Shadowhunter Academy) and laid it on the table.

Ash looked at it hesitantly, like a kid who really wanted to grab the candy but was afraid there was a mouse trap under it. He hunched his shoulders forward and clasped his hands under the table, as if to keep himself from temptation.

“I recognize your art. I like it. I also appreciate Julian Blackthorn’s but I may not be as objective where… one of the subjects of his drawings is concerned.”

“You’ve seen my art?”

He leaned back on his chair, crossing his long arms behind his head. Somehow, he managed to make it look graceful.

“Which Shadowhunter hasn’t? I noticed that you often drew Jace with angel wings.”

“Yes. That’s how he used to appear to me. In recurring dreams.”

“Was it?”

“Was it what?”

“Jace. In your dreams.”

“Who else would it be?”

“Someone who looks like him, but who actually has wings.”

“You mean Kit.”

Ash shrugged. “It would make more sense.” His gaze flickered back to the drawing, which still lay on the table, untouched. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“So do you”, Clary blurted before she could take it back.

Ash shot her an unfathomable look.

“How is she?” She asked.

“You mean, the Seelie Queen? You tell me. You must see her more often than I do.”

“Well, not really. I am not that involved in politics, even though Alec is Consul. Julian Blackthorn is the one who deals with her most of the time. She appears to have... a fondness for him.”

“Who doesn’t?”

Clary’s mouth quirked up.

“I am glad you are getting along with the Blackthorns. They are such an incredibly strong and talented family.”

“They are.” He turned his face away, but not before she could see the expression of longing plain on his delicate features.

She swallowed. She was painfully reminded that Ash never had a shot at a happy family. Born of a political union, and dragged here and there, though interdimensional portals, by people more interested in his powers than anything else he had to offer as a person. And judging by how Dru talked about Ash, he had a lot to offer.

“I imagine it must have been awful living in Thule… But what you did for Emma and Julian back there... if it hadn’t been for you…”

“I don’t want to talk about Thule,” he interrupted her. “Can I borrow this?” He asked, his long fingers brushing the Mortal Instruments concert flyer.

“Sure.”

She watched as he started folding the paper, realizing with a jolt of surprise that he was making an origami and wondering what shape would come out of it. It was odd seeing him doing such an innocuous thing, as if he was not a faerie prince with a heavy heritage and a giant target on his back, but an ordinary boy. She remembered what Emma had told her of her encounter with Ash in a nightclub in Thule. The way he had shown no interest, playing a video game in a corner of the room, while Sebastian was committing atrocities. Had he really been as indifferent as he looked?

“Ash, we don’t need to talk about Thule if you don’t want to, but if I can help you… If there is anything I can do-”

“Why?” He looked up sharply. “Are you able to create a rune that could undo the things I saw?” His tone was even, but his delicate fingers had started slightly shaking and he suddenly dropped the paper - his work unfinished - to fold his hands under the table to hide it. From that moment, she knew.

“No…” Clary said, drawing the word out. “But trust me, coming from someone whose memory has been tampered with... it’s not a solution.”

“I said undo. Not forget.” He snapped. “I am not such a coward that I would choose blissful ignorance over knowledge.”

He caught himself, blinking, then clenched his jaw and looked away. As if he was ashamed he had allowed himself to show any emotion at all. But Clary had managed to catch a glimpse of what lay underneath the mask and wanted nothing more than to see the rest of it.

“I don’t think you are a coward,” she said.

He looked over at her, a silver eyebrow raised. “I let it all happen, didn’t I? I didn’t lift a finger.”

“Because you couldn’t. Sebastian would have killed you. And you, Ash, are just like me. A survivor.”

He snorted and crossed his arms in front of him, leaning back on his chair. He had stretched out his long legs and Clary realized that he was tapping a foot nervously next to hers.

“Wrong. I could have. I chose not to. Because I am selfish. I don’t care about other people’s fate.”

His face split into a lazy, wicked grin. Clary could see Sebastian’s influence in his leer, but she wouldn't let it deceive her. Just as she wasn't fooled by his laid-back demeanor.

“I think it’s the opposite, actually. I think it’s because you care too much. It’s not death you are afraid of. The thing is, you have such a tender heart, you need to protect it from an affliction far greater than any physical pain you could endure. So you’d rather lie to yourself and pretend you feel nothing.”

From the long conversations she had with Tessa about her ancestors, Clary knew of a Fairchild boy who had been too compassionate for his own good. And he had been surrounded by loyal friends and loving parents, even though he had shut himself, putting on a facade while burying his grief in alcohol. Ash never had that kind of support. Throughout his life, he was left to figure things out on his own. If he was as empathetic as Clary thought he was, Ash probably had no other choice but to deal with his sensitivity alone. It was a miracle he had turned out the way he did.

“You have a lot of imagination,” he said after a moment. The ghost of a smile was still playing on his lips but something had passed across his eyes. “Then again, you are an artist. You seek beauty in the ugly. You find colors on a blank page. I admire your faith, but in this case, there is nothing to see.”

Clary jutted her chin stubbornly and they held each other’s gaze - his green eyes glittering in amusement and hers dead serious - in a staring contest.

“Still,” he said when he finally broke, first. “I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I am sorry.”

Clary softened. “Don’t be. I am glad you are finally showing your true self. You don’t need to wear your mask around me, Ash.”

He chuckled. “Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.”

“It’s funny that you would quote Oscar Wilde.”

“And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Just another thing you share in common with a Fairchild I heard stories about.”

“Clary,” he said in a gently reproving tone. Her name sounded like a caress in his melodious voice. “Are you being purposefully cryptic to arouse my curiosity?”

She moved closer, so she was sitting at the edge of her chair, and leaned forward, hands folded over the table.

“If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” she whispered. “Let me in. Shed all pretense.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he whispered back in confidence, leaning closer still so that their faces were inches from each other. “It’s like fabric that burns and melts into skin. If you peel it off, the skin goes with it.” He grimaced, reclining on his chair. “It won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t think even my level of hotness could sustain it.”

“Ash…” Clary said, sensing that she finally had an opening to say what she had been brooding over ever since she had learnt of Ash’s return from that forsaken land. “I wanted to tell you… I am sorry.”

Ash’s green eyes widened.

“Sorry for what?”

“I should have looked for you. I should not have given up on you.”

Ash’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Seb-...Ash, we...”

“What did you just call me?” He snarled. His eyes snapped back to her, suddenly cold as ice.

“Sorry, Ash. What I meant to say is… we are family."

“I already have a family.”

“I know that you care about Janus…”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he cut her off.

“And we don’t need to. I just wanted you to know… I understand that he’s been like a father to you, and I don’t plan on moving against him, unless he strikes first or makes it impossible for me to overlook his actions.”

“Because of me?”

“Of course, because of you.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Ash… You are my nephew, my blood. You may not feel the same way about me, but that’s how I feel about you. I want you to know that, if things go wrong, for any reason, you can always turn to me. My home is your home.”

“What you are actually telling me is, Ash, if I kill the one person who has ever really cared about you - and it might definitely come to that - you can always grab my hand, still sticky and warm from his blood. Well, how nice of you. To quote Oscar Wilde again, true friends stab you in the front.”

“That’s not what I am-”

“Clary,” Ash interrupted as he stood. “Do not make me choose between you and him. Because…” Looking down at her, he swallowed hard, as if the words pained him. “Because you will lose.”

She knew exactly what he was telling her. Because they were the same in that way. Ruthless, even with their own blood, when it came to protecting their loved ones. If I had to choose between killing him and you, I would not hesitate. I would end you. Yet, despite his cold statement, despite his sharp and resolved tone, his eyes seemed to carry a deep regret.

“Ash, I understand what you're saying and I swear I am not trying to make you pick a side”, Clary said, suddenly desperate, as she mirrored him and stood. “Please don’t go. I am sorry I brought it up. We will stop talking about him. Starting now.”

“This was a bad idea. Never try to contact me again.” He drew his green beanie from the pocket of his coat and put it back on. He turned and strode toward the exit. She grabbed the family drawing that still lay on the table, stuffed it in her bag and followed him, half-running, as he was quickly losing here with his long legs.

“Ash! Please. Give me another chance. I am so sorry.”

He paused right outside the coffee shop, closed his eyes and sighed. “Don’t be. It didn’t change what I had planned to tell you anyway. I don’t want to know anything about you or your mother. I don’t want to have anything to do with either of you.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, and he whipped his head around to look at her in surprise. “I know you were under house arrest. You probably had to break out of whichever place they were holding you in to come here. You wouldn’t have done that unless you wanted something. Something from me. Tell me, Ash. Tell me what it is.”

He turned his face away so she could not see his expression. A full minute passed and she had almost given up on receiving an answer, when he finally spoke.

“My fa… Sebastian. How different do you think he would have been if not for the demon blood?”

“Oh. Ash.” she whispered. She brought her knuckle against her sternum instinctively, as if to cover the gaping whole in her chest. “I saw him, you know. The brother I should have had. The father that should have raised you. If only for a few minutes.” She paused to bite back tears. “In those few minutes, he told us how to get rid of the Endarkened and said he was sorry. It’s not much to go for, but… that’s not all. I have recurring dreams of the green eyed boy that was robbed from us. And I know in my heart he would have been the best brother a sister could ever dream of.”

He was still looking away and she could see the sharp line, the stubborn set of his jaw. She wanted to hug him, to tell him she would not fail him again. That they could mourn her brother, his father, together. That he didn’t need to bear the anger at everything that was wasted alone.

He finally turned to look at her. A tear had escaped to run freely down his cheek. He had completely shed off his mask, and what Clary saw was like a stab in her gut. She shivered. Wordlessly, he reached for his deep green scarf and tied it gingerly around her neck. The way Sebastian had when they had walked down the streets of Paris. Ash looked nothing like her brother had then. His green eyes held an infinite sadness that spoke of a grief deeper, older than the short years of his life.

“It doesn’t change anything.” He said - she hadn’t imagined his beautiful voice could sound so hollow - and turned to leave.

“Ash, wait.” She grabbed him by the elbow and he froze. His eyes widened as his gaze zeroed on the fingers covering his coat, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. She realized she had never touched him before.

“Clary, what do you want from me?” He asked in a tired voice.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“Trust me, you don’t. I am not the brother who was stolen from you. I cannot replace him. If anything, I am just like Sebastian was before me... my father’s broken toy. There is no way to fix me.”

“I don’t believe it for a second,” she said, almost frantic. “And I don’t want to find my brother's replacement, I want to get to know you! Ash. The real Ash.”

“I already told you. That’s not happening. Don’t ever try to contact me again. I am serious.”

“So that’s it?” She tried not to sound too whiny but panic was eating away at her stomach and she thought she would throw up. “You went through all this trouble spying on me, learning how I take my coffee to simply disappear from my life from one moment to the next?”

He gazed at her for a moment, his expression unfathomable. It seemed like an eternity before he finally spoke.

“I was not spying on you, Clary. I was merely following your stalker.”

“What? You were… protecting me?”

“Take care of yourself, Clary.”

He said as he stepped away from her and vanished into the crowd.

****

Clary threw herself in Jace’s arms as soon as he opened the door to their bedroom at the New York Institute. He froze, then started stroking her hair in a soothing gesture.

“Clary, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“No,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Tell me, Clary. What is it?”

She pulled away and wiped tears with the back of her hand. Jace’s face was a mask of shock. Clary couldn’t blame him. She almost never cried.

“I messed up.”

“What did you mess up?”

She walked to the bed and sat on the mattress. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his reaction. “Ash. I met up with him earlier today.”

Jace tensed and his hands clenched into fists. “WHAT- Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you would have insisted on coming.”

“Damn right, I would have. And I would have been right, too. Look at you, you look miserable.”

“It’s my fault,” she said in a small voice. “I pushed him too far.”

Jace sighed and came to sit next to her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I am sure you did nothing wrong, Clary.”

“I thought- When I showed him the drawing… the way he looked at it, Jace. He is not indifferent. He cares.”

“What drawing?”

“The one I made of the family,” she said absently, as she grabbed her bag and started fumbling inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath. The drawing wasn’t there. Peeking out in its stead, and folded out of the flyer of the Mortal Instruments concert, were origami faerie wings. The Fairchild family symbol.

#ash morgenstern #ash x dru #dru x ash #dru blackthorn #drusilla blackthorn #clary fairchild #clary fray #clarissa fairchild #jace herondale #the mortal instruments #the dark artifices #the wicked powers #the secrets of blackthorn hall #tmi fanfiction #tsc fanfiction #tda fanfiction #cassandraclare #cassandra clare fan fiction #the shadowhunters chronicles #the shadowhunters chronicles icons

[metaphorewhore25]

Beach Rats (2017) & Why We Need More Movies Like It

There is a general underlying paradigm in society that “men do the looking and women are to be looked at” and Beach Rats (2017) is a movie that challenges that from its very first shot. The movie opens with an 18-something teenager taking mirror selfies in a dirty basement mirror. The camera pans over his very masculine features – his biceps, armpit hair, nipples, and the rest of his torso.

I was sold to the movie right there. Hardly do I see movies with such a focus on the male form. I have watched Eliza Hittman’s ‘It Felt Like Love’ (2013) which does the same thing from a teenage girl’s point of view but Beach Rats simply does it more and does it better.

I know that Beach Rats is a gay movie and hence the camera captures the perspective of a boy, not a girl, and hence may not exactly be called ‘The Female Gaze’ but it is written and directed by a cishet woman and frankly, I believe even that is a start when it comes to subverting the male gaze, flipping the camera and putting men at the centre, making them subjects of visual pleasure.

What Beach Rats does extremely well is this: It makes the audience uncomfortable.

And that is precisely why I loved it. In mainstream movies when the lead actresses are introduced by butt-to-lips-to-head shots, it doesn’t really make us uncomfortable anymore because it has become the norm. We’ve just accepted girls being captured in this way. We may even accept young, underage girls portrayed in a sexualized manner but focusing on men’s butts and forearms is sure to make us rethink what we are seeing on screen. Long idle shots of Frankie, the protagonist and his friends shirtless by the beach playing handball or just swimming, their chiselled dude-bro bodies taking up the majority of the screen is something we are quite unused to.

Even the scenes where Frankie is in his room and browsing a gay cam site on the internet makes us feel uncomfortable because we are simply more exposed to women doing these things like posing and pouting. It was quite fresh to see the white man become the one being looked at. It almost felt like revenge to me, like “You see this is how it feels to be constantly scrutinized or unnecessarily sexualized!”

I feel that we need to get more comfortable with the idea of male bodies presented on screen just as we are with female bodies.

However, I am aware that “Revenge” is not what women in the industry are going for, or should go for. Unlike the Male Gaze, the Female Gaze is much trickier to define. Simply objectifying men back will not do. We don’t want to revert the power structure, but rather deconstruct it.

Alina Gufran from The Swaddle says “While the act of objectifying a man through the eyes of a woman remains revolutionary, it ultimately lends itself to a very “male” idea of what the female gaze should be.” When women are handed over the cameras and the pens and the main roles, the product is often not just an objectification of men but rather a humane and emotional portrayal of both men and women as people.

Although, I would personally say that after years of having seen myself and the media around me through men’s perspectives, it is fun sometimes to objectify men and get back at the system.

I believe Beach Rats takes that extra step, by not only sexualizing men like some feminist revenge fantasy but also showing the audience vulnerability, emotions and honest intimacy. The camera zooms in on Frankie’s face a lot. He is often dreamy, confused or just melancholic. In the course of the movie his father, suffering from cancer passes away, he witnesses his younger sister getting intimate with a boy her age and his friends, although given hardly any dialogues are a key influence in his life as he often forced to fit in with them and arrange drugs for them which he steals from his father’s medicine cabinet. His friends are toxic and not at all empathetic as he often proclaims “These are not my friends” as a joke with an element of truth. All this while he is navigating personal conflict regarding his sexuality and suppressing his true self with his friends and family because he cannot fathom how they would understand.

During daylight hours, Frankie has to keep up appearances by maintaining a girlfriend but during the nighttime, he often goes on a website for gay men in Brooklyn and meets up with older men for one-night stands that are often fulfilling, but often also leave him confused.

The film is definitely voyeuristic but it also has its non-sexual intimate moments. There’s a scene where Frankie has to go masturbate before joining his girlfriend in bed because he can’t maintain erections in her presence. In moments like this, we can see his vulnerability as he tries to laugh it off or gets frustrated at his body quite often telling him something else.

My favourite scene I would say is when he decides for the first time to meet up with an older, more experienced man from the website and the camera shoots him preparing for the rendezvous in a very vulnerable and intimate way. Frankie is shown lifting weights to perhaps tone his muscles, trimming his pubic hair with a scissor and taking a shower and giving himself a thorough wash. I believe shots like this, give the character a very human feel and helps the audience relate to his insecurities and struggles that lie behind the muscular façade.

Admittedly, Frankie’s friends are only two-dimensional characters and used as props for plot development and often fall into the cliché dude-bro stereotypes. They are perhaps used only to flex their shapely bodies and contribute to Frankie’s inner conflict. They are not people, they are just cishet men in the movie. They are the ones we may call purely “objectified”.

The sexual politics are at one point even explicitly stated in the film’s dialogue when Frankie asks Simone (his girlfriend) if two men making out is hot. Simone says that two girls making out is no big deal and is obviously hot but two men making out is just gay. Reading into the subtext, the word “gay” here is used in the derogatory sense.

Of course, neither should be seen as “hot”. Homosexuality is supposed to exist in its own place, having an identity of its own and shouldn’t be co-opted by and for heterosexuals for their pleasure or entertainment.

But, due to the infiltration of the male gaze in popular media and a society that entitles men and suppresses female voices; women bear the burden of being unfairly sexualized. This same patriarchy socializes young boys and girls to view themselves a certain way, boys are taught not to be emotional and affectionate and are thus also disadvantaged by the patriarchy. I’m talking about things like “boys don’t cry” or “two guys don’t hold hands”.  The movie shows the reflections of these through Frankie’s toxic masculine friends and sometimes even Simone.

Frankie feels like he’d never be accepted into the mainstream of society because of the same sexual politics that exist in the world and that Hittman is trying to deconstruct. It is perhaps due to the fact that Frankie cannot come out that the film is shot mostly in the dark and in dingy places.

Beach Rats is a fine example of a movie that shows us a strong, conspicuous alternative to the male gaze. It does one thing very well and it is depicting male bodies in a casual, real, vulnerable, sexy and overt way and we need more of that. We need more male body presence on the screen because we as a culture of people are so oblivious to it. It’s always “Ass or Tits?”, “Pear-shaped or Hourglass-shaped” and “Skinny or Thick” and all these labels that apply only to women’s bodies to an extent where we perhaps don’t even feel like male bodies are something to be gazed at in the first place.

“Men look for looks and women look for personality”. How often have you heard this? I am not trying to defy the evolutionary explanations which may explain things to some extent. But we as this highly intelligent species cannot be completely bound by merely evolutionary instincts. While The Female Gaze does incorporate emotions and intimacy, I liked how Beach Rats balanced out the emotional and the purely carnal.  I am not saying we need more male bodies on screen in simply a sexual way. I want to see male bodies even in very mundane non-sexual ways just because I feel it needs to be normalized. Normalize focusing on the man’s body too in heterosexual romance films perhaps. Beach Rats was quite a refreshing watch despite its dark colour pallet because I was quite frankly amused to see what happens when the camera is reversed and allowed to linger on manly features. Perhaps through this, we may reach the ultimate goal of both men and women moving fluidly between the subject and object of mutual desire.

Posted originally on: https://rishikapandit.com/2021/06/08/beach-rats-why-we-need-more-movies-like-it/ 

#pride #happy pride 🌈 #lgbtq community #lgbtq media #lgbtq relationships #lgbt memes #beach rats #eliza hittman #queer movie #movie review #male gaze #female gaze #gay #lgbtq movies #pride movie #filmmaking #film #gay post #bildungsroman #coming of age #feminisim #patriarchy #womenempowerment #harris dickinson #male body

[crispyimagines17]

“GOSSIP GIRL: Summertime Madness“ (Chapter 2).

Summary: Gossip Girl, your one and only social media source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan’s Elite. Things begin to stagger at the Upper East Side with the return of Alana Howarth and the unexpected arrival of Timothée Chalamet, a European handsome boy and rising ruler who has come for Alana; ignoring that NYC already has an heir and prince in its realm, Tom Holland. Secrets, romance, drama and lots of champagne are our daily bread. You know you love me, XOXO.

Originally based on: R’s & CrispyImagines writers’ idea.

Written by:  @crispyimagines17

CAST:

Tom Holland

Timothée Chalamet

Noah Centineo as Noah Humphrey

Kiernan Shipka as Kiernan Archibald

Disclaimer:  This fiction is set on our days (2019). Gossip Girl is now all over social media, Twitter and Instagram being the best sites to find hot tea. Also, for those who may ask what happens with Serena, Blair, Chuck, Dan, Nate and the original cast, they’re now grownups who set the reign and have left it for new generations.

Author’s Note: Just enjoy it while it lasts, guys. Thank you to all those supportive souls who sent their good vibes via ask or DM <3 especially to Napofthesoul, your words really meant a lot, sweetie. 

Previous Chapters: 1: “New York, New York”

Masterpost

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Morning, Upper East Siders. Time to wake up from bad dreams and face a new day. Though, if you’re a queen just arriving at your realm after time abroad and with two royals fighting for you, looks like things could get uglier in the morning.

Her eyelids hesitated to open at the touch of sunrays coming from a window. Her body was paying off yesterday’s red wine glasses. But she didn’t regret it after thinking about the dramatic performance at the terrace. If anything could’ve calmed her late nerves to see the two men in the same city, and much worse in the same place, that was wine.

“Oh shit”

Alana exhaled loudly as she sat up on the bed at a slow pace for not worsen her nausea. Her hand stretched out to reach her phone. The clock read 10 a.m. It was a miracle her mother hadn’t sent Mishka, her maid and Dorota’s nephew, to her bedroom yet.

But as if thinking of her called her up, Mrs. Howarth and Mishka opened the door seconds later.  

“Oh Alana, I almost forgot you were here.”

“Thank you for that, mother.” She rolled her eyes.

Margot eyed from head to toe at her messy daughter for a second before taking her attention back to her smartphone.  

“Dress up. We’re running late for the Holland’s annual golf match”

“Mother. I am not going.”

In a single move, Alana stood up from bed to face her mother with a frown. But the cold woman cut her off.

“You are. End of discussion.”

“I agreed to attend your last night’s party. But this is much more”

Her vibrant blue eyes stared straight into her daughter’s as she kept her phone inside her purse.

“You wanted to be back, don’t you? And your grandma’s Charity Foundation would not rise again if you refuse to attend events and show your deep interest on getting more investors.” Margot made a brief pause, but nothing came out of Alana’s mouth. She smirked at her silence. “I’ll be on the limo. Hurry up”

The Howarth girl did as told unwillingly, not before unlocking her phonescreen; one lost call and 4 messages from Timothée. Nothing from Tom. Alana pursed her lips. Maybe her long-time friend understood the message and made peace.

Or at least that’s what she hoped.

* * * * * * 

The sun shined bright and clear. A perfect Saturday morning for those lucky souls with no strings and ready to live. Veuve Clicquot Garden looked just as she remembered. It felt so Upper East Side. It smelt like money.

As soon as a waiter approached her, she asked him for a glass of wine. It might be 11:00 a.m., but Breakfast at Tiffany’s with orange juice wasn’t a possibility.

“Oh Alana, my dear.”

“Mrs. O’Brien!”

An elegant grandmother with certainly more class than the British Queen herself stared at her and pulled her into an embrace. The woman who, as her godmother Blair Waldorf, had thought her everything she needed to know about life and this sick elite society.

“My darling, you look wonderful!”

“And you look younger, if I may say so.” Alana exclaimed with a joyful smile over her face.

“Oh, enough” She giggled. “So, what have you been up to, Lana?”

“Europe, recently. But I’m back now. What about you?”

“South Sudan. There’s a terrible situation happening for children there.” The old woman briefly fixed her eyes in the ground with a sad expression. “But of course, the Holland’s believe things can get managed with Golf Match so, shall we?”

Both approached the lunch table to pick some fruit and Alana stayed in silence for a couple seconds until Lilian O’Brien spoke again.

“Christ, I used to enjoy these events very much.”

“Now you don’t?”, Alana frowned as she followed her inside the white tent.

“I still do, dear. What changed was that I don’t only care for my social status anymore, I care about others too.”

Alana seemed to be deeply digesting her words as she nodded. But her analysis was interrupted by a curly mass of hair stepping into the garden followed by the Bass family; Chuck and Blair.

“May you excuse me?”

“Go, Lana. Go”, the old woman nodded gently in a soft attempt to encourage the young girl.

“Was truly a pleasure, Mrs. O’Brien”

Until that very instance, Alana hadn’t paid attention to the music playing in the background because her ears were used to Frank Sinatra’s voice. But when Timothée’s eyes met hers, Etta James’ voice invaded her and suddenly, the scene looked taken from a romantic comedy film.

‘This gotta be a fucking joke’, Alana whispered to herself.

Meanwhile, the European man wearing the latest Berluti’s white design walked towards her. Perhaps aware of the song’s effect, because his steps seemed to be perfectly synchronized with the tune.

“Morning, sunshine.” Timothée said with the same charming smile that made her knees weak.

As soon as he stood before her, Alana thought they’d be dancing or passionately kissing as in an Audrey Hepburn’s films. But they didn’t. A helicopter landing sound interrupted the magic moment, bringing both souls back to reality. Etta James’ voice had faded giving way to Nina Simone’s strong classy style.  

‘Am I in Broadway?’

The It-girl frowned sarcastically at the coincidence. The helicopter’s door opened, and Dominic Holland greeted with one hand before helping his wife to step on ground.  

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Hollands.”

Claps showered the iconic family. Tom was the last to step down. And for Alana’s surprise, his eyes fixed on hers for a millisecond until he turned his head at the crowd welcoming him. Although she tried not to, a part inside her kind of broke when he looked away this time.

But Timothée noticed it; she had blinked twice and finished the glass of wine in one gulp right after Tom joined his family for the magazine picture.

And Chalamet only scowled at his adversary with pursed lips as he posed for the cameras. 

* * * * *

The golf match had begun with the Holland boys playing the first holes. Tom won every single one of them. He was good at this; polo and golf were his favorite sports.

Alana and Timothée were sitting along the Bass. At first, they sat there because of Blair, but then she learned that Timothée had followed her because of Chuck. Although Chuck Bass wasn’t anything else than just her godmother’s husband, it shocked her the fact that Timothée had never told her he was related to him.

And she wondered why he’d hide it.

“Well, it’s Chuck’s turn to smack golf’s yard”

Blair Waldorf said with that elegant smile of hers as Bass moved the chair to let his wife stood up. She picked her purse and looked at her goddaughter.

“Your godfather Nate is coming, dear. Tell him to wait for us.”

“Sure, Aunt Blair.” Alana nodded forcing a smile.

Alone in the table, the two millionaire youngsters shared a brief moment of awkward silence filled only by the crowd sound and murmurs of polite laughs in near tables.

Timothée doubted on say something but his heart couldn’t bear her strange behavior, making him sip his drink and swallow hard.

“Are you okay, Alana?”, he inquired in a more worried tone than he’d liked.

The Howarth girl frowned nonchalantly as she brought a vegetarian pressed Italian little sandwich into her mouth and chewed on it carefree before answering.

“I am. Perfectly. Just wondering when were you going to tell me you’re a Chalamet-Bass?” She asked still in a nonchalant mode as if talking about the weather, without facing him. “He’s the real reason you’re here, isn’t it?”

He turned his torso and laid his arm over his chair’s back to completely look at her.

“He’s not, they invited me. And I knew you’d be here.”

His voice was softer this time. Alana kept sitting straight as she glanced the garden, whatever but his eyes.

“When you messaged me last night asking to see me and talk, I never expected you’d go for my godmother’s help.”

“Even she can tell why I am in New York.”

“Bass Industries is a good reason.”

Timothée leaned just a few inches closer to her.

“I didn’t mention him because we said ‘the past is in the past’”

Alana shut her eyes in contained frustration for a second before turning her head to meet his eyes.

“But he’s not past. He’s present!”

“So is Tom Holland.” He said in the same calmed velvety tone as before.

Her whole face went pale with the mere mention of his name and her lips parted yet speechless.

“He told me everything at yesterday’s party”, Timothée continued.

Neither of them uttered a word for a few seconds. The sound of applauses and shouts of celebration for the winner echoed from behind.

Alana’s weak expression was replaced by a serious one. She looked away and grabbed her purse.

“Then we’re even.”

“It’s not that”, Chalamet began to elaborate but she cut him off right after standing up from her seat.

“You know? I really wanted this thing between us worked out”

And she walked away of the white tent in that elegant way of hers, praying that he wouldn’t follow her.

But he did, meeting her just halfway to the lavatories. Again, they were face to face. His eyes were almost watery, and the desperation now reflected over his persona.

“What you wanted me to do if not come here? Can you imagine how I felt? You left 2 days after graduation!”

Her eyes almost went watery too at the sound of his broken voice seeking for answers. Though, she swallowed the lump in her throat and crossed her arms over her chest with pursed lips.

“And so, what?”

“Never really got a chance to talk things out”

“We’ve got nothing to say, Timothée.” She responded forcing a smile with pain in her tone as a tear fell down her cheek. “You were always out in parties to ‘find producers’ for your director’s debut in film business”

“When you learned about my crazy past and reputation, I told you I was about to leave it for my Art… And for you”

“And you did?”

“I tried.” Timothée looked away, smoothing his hair back with one hand in an attempt to hold tears inside before locking eyes with Alana again. “But…”

Though, as soon as she heard the same word that had begun past fights between them, Alana exhaled loudly and showed a tired expression.

“Sure, Chalamet. Now please, stop. Let’s be friends and that’s it. Carpe Diem.”

“Don’t come me with the Carpe Diem thing. I’m here because…”

“Timothée, please. We tried a couple of times, and all went to trash. Just…”

But she added no more. Instead, her body turned to follow her heels somewhere far from there.

Timothée sighed as he let her go this time, not being aware that a pair of brown eyes were glued on him with rage injected on them.

****

Tom had won against Chuck Bass. Everyone cheered and congratulated his victory, even some old men in their 60s patted his shoulder after uttering “great match” with a satisfied smile.

In his way to join his family at the white tent, he recognized Alana’s figure walking in the middle of the garden and then being stopped by a man in white suit. Tom had to narrow his eyes to confirm the identity of who his mind already knew; Timothée Chalamet.

He tightened his jaw when he saw Alana leaving the scene with a shadow of pain on her very feature and got to restrain his desire to hit that black wavy head.  

****

Spotted at Veuve Clicquot Garden: Tom Holland lifting a golf club to hit not a ball but a curly head. Current Match Play; Timothée 1 - Tom 0

****

Alana touched-up her eyeliner with a powder shadow and used the corner of the makeup sponge to remove any evidence of the smeared eyeliner made by her late watery eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror as she took a deep encouraging breath. She hated the fact she got to ran into the toilettes and hide there from Timothée. ‘What a child I am’.

The Howarth girl took one last glance at the mirror before opening the door back to the garden.

She hadn’t walked three steps when her chest crashed against someone’s back.

“Sorry, am…”, Alana began to apology.

The young man turned around to face her and a genuine smile crossed his face when he recognized her.

“Lana?”

“Harry?”, she smiled too.

Harry Holland, one of the Tom’s brother twins she used to babysit in the building when their parents were away.

They immediately pulled each other into an embrace.

“God! Good to see you”

“Me too. Look how handsome you look”, she eyed him from head to toe.

“And you, pretty as always”, Harry imitated her.

“Where’s Sam?”, Alana’s eyes looked for the other twin behind Harry’s back.

“Probably eating every dessert available”, he giggled. “Come join us”

****

The table Harry leaded her to was filled with the Holland family and her parents, the Howarth.

Just seconds before Alana took a seat, Chuck and Blair appeared. And while he was excusing for leaving early, Blair approached to Alana close enough for her to hear her warning;

“Drama’s not over, A. Just don’t explode here, darling. For your own sake.”

The elegant couple left. Alana showed a polite smile and nodded, not sure what her godmother referred with ‘drama’. Though, she found out a second later when Margot Howarth, her mother, placed her hand on top of Alana’s over the table.

“Alana, here you’re. We were just talking about you”

Indeed, everyone’s eyes were glued on her with big smiles drawn across their faces. Even the twins and little Patrick were happy.

“Europe must’ve been exciting”, Elizabeth Holland, Tom’s mother, said interlacing her fingers over the table as she genuinely smiled.

“It was great, of course.” Alana answered as she grabbed the glass of wine the waiter offered her.

“We’re glad you’re back, dear.” Elizabeth looked at her husband, Dominic, who nodded graciously.

Mrs. Holland was truly happy for her return because she couldn’t stop smiling. She had always appreciated her.

Margot sighed, imitating everyone’s smiles but with a hint of pride in it because was her daughter the main subject, just as she always loved her to be.

“Can you believe? Harry and Sam’s Cotillion is this Friday as your cousin Cass’”, she said raising her eyebrows as if surprised.

Tom arrived, being welcomed with more cheering from his brothers. He took a seat as far from Alana as possible, which was just two seats difference; Patrick and Sam were in between.

“Remember when Alana and Tom went together to Cotillion?”, Elizabeth added with a nostalgic sigh.

“Time flies isn’t it?”, Margot did the same.

“I know… Just think about it. In a blink of an eye, our sons will be getting married”, Mrs. Howarth gathered her hands as in an applause while raising her eyebrows thus drawing a ‘cannot wait’ expression in her feature.

Dominic Holland, who had been chatting along Marcus Howarth about today’s golf match, joined the conversation.

“Alana would be perfect to wear the family ring”

He patted her wife’s hand joyfully. Margot, Elizabeth and Dominic glanced at them with a satisfied smile given, perhaps, by the picture created in their imagination of a perfect wedding.    

“Oh she will.” Margot stated. “They’ve been friends since childhood”

This was what Blair warned her about. Tom and Alana uncomfortably sipped two or maybe three times their drinks as if a mirror stood between them. She wished her wine was scotch, while he wished his brandy was vodka.

A heavy environment settled between Tom and Alana’s bodies right after their parents celebrated their fantasy. Even Patrick felt a little weird being‘third wheels’ in this situation.

Harry noticed it too. And the twins made everything in their hands to change the subject back into the next season’s event, suggesting a polo match.

Alana only recognized gross sounds of what was discussed next. Her eyes were blank, realizing that her return wouldn’t be as easy as she thought it’d be. The Holland’s comment made her think of her latest nightmare; her life could change so fast if she married Tom. She’d basically sign herself up for the same traditional life she ran away from; she’d become a socialite woman caught up in the system.

So, the It-girl fumbled her phone out of her Cartier purse and dialed a number she knew by heart. Her thumbs moved fast over the keyboard and clicked the ‘send’ icon.

*****

Start buying those dancing shoes, kids. Looks like we’ll be going to the chapel soon.

****

Hours later, New York City lights announced the beginning of nocturnal life affairs. The city that never sleeps. And less if you’re in the Upper East Side.

After Timothée received Alana’s text, he arranged a reservation for what he saw as a special occasion at Le Bernadin, one of the top six most exclusive restaurants in New York.

Alana arrived there on time in an elegant blue dress. He was already waiting for her at the table and helped her seat by holding back the chair like a true gentleman.

“Thought we’d go somewhere more… private”, her eyes traveled around the place.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Le Bernadin is excellent”, she slightly frowned.

“Not that. I mean, sorry for today’s”, he cleared his throat and showed her an apological smile.

“I’m sorry too. I was maybe a little too harsh with you about the… Chuck thing”

“But you were right about the hiding thing.” He started in such an honest tone that it sent chills down Alana’s back, freezing her on her seat. “I don’t wanna hide anything from you, Lana. That day before our graduation when we broke up and you told me I never committed to our relationship; I couldn’t sleep trying to see it from your perspective. And you were right. After our lovely summer when road tripping all around Western Europe, I pretended to forget my reputation and begin from scratch when it was clear that could never happen. Then parties came and we split for a month because you weren’t used to that part of me. Art class joined us again, you were my date for several parties more and it seemed to work out this time. I just don’t know where it went wrong…”

Timothée stopped to take a deep breath and calm himself, cause up to this moment his tone had changed revealing the true desperation behind his words.

“That’s why I’m here.”

Alana was perplexed. She never imagined herself in that situation with him; at least not outside her dreams. On the contrary, she prayed not to see him ever again, convincing herself that her decision to leave Europe would make things easier for both. Yet he had found his way back to her quite earlier than expected.

Now she sipped her drink to brush away the lump in her throat when the sudden memory of their fights, the nights alone, and their breakup flooded her mind.  

“You left me no choice.” She looked away and sighed as she tried to hold the tears inside. “Remember one of our first talks when I told you about how it made me sick all the socialite stuff and its hypocrisy? Well, I was so happy you weren’t so involved in that sick game… New York seemed just a far bad dream.”

The mere memory of a hopeful time made her so nostalgic, that her brain got to remind her to take a deep breath. She turned to face him.

“But when your parties began, I said ‘let’s give it a chance’, though something inside didn’t feel good. Even when that wasn’t the socialite, yet there was a similar sensation with my past. And when our Netflix and cuddle nights became YOUR party nights as soon as some old buddies of yours arrived at your flat, leaving me there ALONE… I just couldn’t handle it no more. I wasn’t ready to deal this new thing.”

Tears flooded her eyes inevitably. And she couldn’t help herself on a few tears from sliding down her cheek. Timothée’s heart ached by watching her in that state. A state he promised he’d never be the cause of, yet he was.

He approached her slowly, sitting at the chair right next to her.

“We could’ve sorted it out together”, Timothée whispered as he cupped her face in his hands and wiped away the tears running down her cheek with his thumb.

“You weren’t there. Your friends needed you.” She avoided any eye contact for her own sake.

“Nothing, listen to me, nothing is more important for me than you.”  

Their watery eyes finally met.

“I’m scared. I just don’t…”

But before she could finish her sentence, Timothée passed his hand around her neck and pulled her into a kiss. Her blood ran cold at first but then she succumbed to the moment.

Once they pulled away, both stared deep at each other for an instance before he showed a glint of mixed hope and shyness.

“I’m scared too. I’ve never felt this way for anybody. Didn’t even believe it was possible but seems like Hollywood doesn’t exaggerate.”

“Timothée…”

“I want to try again, please”

“There are no third chances”

“For me, Alana. Do it for me, for us. If you still have feelings for me, even the weakest one, give me a chance, and I’ll prove to you that we aren’t supposed to be apart.”

“I don’t know… How”

“Me neither but we can take a leap of faith, together.”

“A little faith, trust and pixie dust”

Alana giggled and Timothée joined her. The atmosphere between them slightly changed and both hearts felt less heavy. She bit her lip and gave him a slight nod.

“Okay”, she nodded.

“Okay?”

Relief washed over Timothée’s aura, drawing a big smile across his face. One of true happiness.

“We’ll take it slow”, Alana continued as she got contagious with the hopeful ambience between them.

“At our own pace.” Timothée added.

“And won’t let our past get in the way.”

“Promise. I’ve left all behind.”

He stated. And everything seemed as if taken away from a fairy tale the couple had written themselves, making her forget that such a thing cannot be at the Upper East Side.

****

The moment Nate Archibald’s daughter stepped into the Howarth’s penthouse as she had done countless times back in the days, Mishka knew something was going on.  

Kiernan Archibald was Alana’s best friend ever since kindergarten, and she never arrived without a reason.  

It took no time before the girls gathered at Alana’s room, and ate macarons with champagne.  

“You know? When I saw you the day you came back, I almost faint.”

Kiernan had her legs crossed in the air and her abdomen over the bed as she ate another macaron with a smirk.

“Yeah, if it weren’t for Mishka you would’ve hit your head very bad”, Alana giggled while resting her head over her pillow, also on bed.

“Thank heaven I didn’t”, Kiernan joined her giggles and incorporated herself to see her friend better. “Now, tell me about your dinner with that European king.”

“Well, you’re updated with the whole situation”, Alana exhaled loudly as the yesterday scenes came to her mind. “Tom and Timothée already met and my mother is dreaming of her daughter being a Howarth-Holland”

Her friend made an “upps” face as she sipped her champagne glass and bit a strawberry.

“The thing is we decided to give us a new chance.” Alana continued with a hopeful grin drawn across her face.

“Timothée and you?”, Kiernan raised her eyebrows.

“We said we’ll take it slow but-”

Before the Howarth girl could explain, the Archibald heiress cut her off while locking eyes into her friend’s.

“Hey, you like him. If you feel good with him and your gut’s telling you to go for it then go for it”, her hands emphasized her words by opening both as if showing her the answer to her question.

“That’s the matter, Kiki. My gut is out of service or something”

“Wait what?”

Alana took a deep breath, though she knew it was almost impossible to avoid Kiernan’s inquisitive look.

“Listen, what I feel about Timothée is very special. He’s so damn charming and smart and funny. He’s very observant and caring.”

“But?”

“But… That night at my welcoming party when I saw Tom, something inside me kind of winced. And when he spoke to me… Uggh, it sent shivers down my spine”

Kiernan was open-mouthed, processing the situation.

“Oh Lana, you’re in such a trouble.”

Seconds later, she raised her glass at Alana for an impromptu toast in honor of whatever thing came. After both finished the last champagne drop, Kiki added;

“Just give it time. The answer will come to you, A.”  

****

Have you been so busy that you’ve forgotten what time of year it is? Couture, quadrilles and cutthroat competition. That’s right. It’s time for Cotillion. 

****

Cotillion was a just as Alana remembered. If not better, but she doubted that. She got to admit, when she was Queen the rules were fancier.

Harry and Sam Holland walked towards her as soon as they saw her coming inside.

“Hey, Lana”, the twins said at the same time.

“Guys, look how handsome you’re!”, she smiled as her eyebrows raised in surprise.  

“Hugo Boss himself said that too”, Harry added and chuckled.

“So, you’re escoting my cousin Cassandra huh?”

“Yeah”, Harry blushed at the sound of her name.

“Take care of her, Harry. And yourself! The Howarths are not easy girls.”

She patted his shoulder, wishing him good luck.

“That’s a fact”, Harry nodded but went pale as soon as he realized she was a Howarth too.

Sam opened his eyes and glanced at his brother with a “bro, wtf” look. He just screwed it up.

“Well, enjoy your night guys”, Alana blinked and forced a smile before walking somewhere else.

Despite her efforts, she couldn’t help the nostalgia vibe that surrounded her; looking at the prep-school girls excited and nervous for their presentation, the boys wearing tuxedos and trying their best against the current king. Everything reminded her the Cotillion she and Tom attended to; they had been the best couple ever since the legendary Blair and Nate or even the unexpected Jenny and Nate one.

At first, she expected the nostalgia would fade away when her brain noticed this wasn’t her Cotillion. But the more she walked around the place, the more it seemed like time had never passed. Every face around her was a face she was familiar with. And she got a weird feeling that they weren’t because of Cotillion but for her; to see with their own eyeballs she was back in New York.

Kiernan was the bell that saved her from getting an anxiety attack.  

“Ugh, people always sticking their noses where don’t belong”, the Archibald heiress said as if she had read Alana’s mind.

“Did it say on Gossip Girl that I’d be here?”, Alana inquired with a tired expression.

“Uhm, nope. But it did say about Cotillion and cutthroat competition. You know she likes pun, A.”

“What about that clean slate? She should leave me alone”

“New York missed you”, Kiernan shrugged. “No sign of T.H?”

“Not yet and praying to keep that way.” Alana said in a serious and a hint of worried tone.

Both friends were about to sit when something in the crowd caught their attention. Every young soul there began muttering and pulling their phones out.

“What’s going on?”, Kiernan wondered.

The answer appeared just after her words. There were they; Tom Holland accompanied with Serena van der Woodsen and Dan Humphrey’s son, Noah Humphrey.  

Every single phone camera pointed at them.

*******

Spotted: An elite family reunion. Don’t you love Cotillion surprises?

******

Noah Humphrey immediately recognized his friends and walked towards them.

“Look who’s in town!”, he shouted opening his arms.

“Gosh, Noah!”, Alana smiled as both pulled each other into a tight embrace.  

Meanwhile, Kiernan and Tom saluted each other by their last names. “Archibald”, “Holland”. She didn’t like him after what happened with her friend, and he just imitated her attitude. Though, Alana’s best friend sacrificed herself and put her dislike apart to take him as far as possible from the Howarth girl.

“Holland, why don’t you tell me where’s Sam? He’ll be escorting my sister Nicole”, Kiernan hold him from his arm forcing him to follow her.

“Sure, he is. Noah?”, Tom locked eyes briefly with Alana and looked at his best friend.

“I’ll stay here.” Noah nodded.

When their bodies disappeared in the crowd, Noah turned back to face her.

“So… Europe, huh?”, Noah giggled. “Was quite a bomb when you left.”

“I know! Everyone keeps telling me about it”, Alana responded aiming to be sarcastic but instead sounding irritated. “Sorry. It’s just so… overwhelming”

“That’s the UEA… And that guy at the airport didn’t help you with the gossip either”

“What do you mean?”, she narrowed her eyes.

“Well, his presence made your return the big hit wondering who he is? Or what is he doing here?”, he looked at her with inquisitive eyes, almost as powerful as Kiernan’s.

“None of their business.” Alana pursed her lips.

“Seriously, Lana. Do we have to care about him?”

“Wha- No! Clean slate, remember? It’s not like the old times.”

“The good old times”, Noah chuckled by the memory of countless party nights. “So, he won’t be here long?”

“Noah, where’s this coming from?”, Alana frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

“From a caring friend.”

He said that truly, but she didn’t see it the same way.

“Oh tell that to someone who knows you less than I do, Humphrey.” She scoffed. “If this is one of Tom’s strategy then I don’t care”

No answer came out of Noah’s mouth. Alana rolled her eyes.

“I’ll go for a drink”, she stated walking away from a friend for the second time in that night.

*****

Once at the bar table with a drink in hand, Alana smoothed her hair back with one hand while letting out a frustrated sigh.

“What does a beautiful woman like you alone?”, a voice asked her seductively from her back.

“Timothée, you came”, she turned to see him standing in an elegant black suite.

“Of course, sweetie. As soon as I read your text, I rushed here.”

“Thanks, wanna join me on preparing my cousin?”

“Sure.” He followed her through an aisle. “What’s this Cotillion stuff?”

“Oh, well is like a social presentation party. It was supposed to be symbolic, but girls take it very very seriously. A battle for power.” She raised her eyebrows ironically. “Cass is not quite the Queen, but my mother forced me to be her mentor”

At the end of the aisle, a door leaded to an elegant room with teen girls in expensive dresses and makeup covering every inch of their bodies waited for the moment.

When Alana entered, every teenager gasped and made way for her to walk comfortably. She frowned at their reaction that back in the days would’ve been completely normal for her. Two seconds later, she found her cousin.

“Cass, you’re perfect!”, Alana complimented her.

Cassandra Howarth was three years younger; therefore, three years less experienced and more pretentious.

“C’mon you don’t believe it”, she got her arms over her hips and not noticed the young man standing behind Alana.

“Harry Holland is your escort, and you’re a Howarth. It’ll be enough for these people.”

Cass stared at her outfit in the mirror and took a deep breath.

“You’re right. The odds are on my favor, you’re my mentee, Blair Waldorf was your mentee… I’ll be fine”, saying this more to herself than for Alana.

A bell announced the Elite Women presentation ceremony was about to begin. The teenagers rushed to the door.

“Good luck”, Alana waved a goodbye.

Timothée and her stood near the stage as a good mentor would do.

The rest of the iconic elite group were seated near the bar, waiting for the show to end. Tom was quite edgy, like a caged tiger deciding whether to eat the iron bars and scape or stay in captivity. Kiernan sipped her mojito, and while she did, she saw through the glass how he made up his mind as he clicked once something on his phone and then kept it in his jacket pocket.

Alana saw that too, though turned her gaze at the stage and swallowed hard.

The Archibald heiress narrowed her eyes suspiciously; she didn't like his attitude one bit. But before she’d approach him, another event caught her attention.

Different ringtones echoed at the same time and every young witness grabbed their phones out to check the notification.

It was Gossip Girl.

Did anyone notice something strange when Alana returned? No paparazzi. Apparently, Europe wasn’t aware of who you are, A. But don’t worry, an anonymous soul has proper manners and sent some details about her big little adventures. Please, shall we enjoy the reading? Cause Gossip Girl goes Europe.

First things first. It was true she ran away from that indecent kiss with our King Tom… But our Queen found a new King in those tiding European lands.

Timothée Chalamet, ladies and gentlemen. If Carlo Magno had a successor, that’s definitely Timothée.

He showed her his Empire, and found love while they did. Just look at these wonderful FRANCE and CARIBBEAN magazine covers.

But then, uh oh. Is that Matty Healy and Alana on MUSIC ICON cover? 

Looks like our Queen just expanded her horizons with flying colours. Monte Carlo and Mallorca are her new capitols.

And the party won’t start ‘till New York walks in.  

“Fuck…”, Kiernan muttered under her breath as she looked for Alana’s whereabouts.

But, it took no effort to find her; cause people around her had moved aside, forming a circle with Timothée and her as the center.

Alana was puzzled. It was until Timothée handed her his phone with the Gossip Girl’s latest tweet that she understood what was going on.

For an instance, the whole world fell over her chest impeding her to breath. She stared at Timothée with eyes wide open and a shadow of confusion casted on her very feature as Gossip Girl’s last words resonated in the back of her head.

And that’s when her inner voice reawakened. She clenched her jaw, swallowed the venom she just received and holded Timothée’s hand, walking away from that circle.

Perhaps Alana Howarth returned days ago, but the Queen had just woken up. The bitch Queen was back.

Kiernan recognized that glint in her eyes when she reached her friend halfway from the door. And Noah knew it too. Even Tom knew it.

“We’re leaving, see you K”, Alana brushed past her as the valet boy opened the door for the couple.

Timothée followed her from behind, still holding her hand. He was shocked by her brusque change.

Kiernan just nodded.

And, although Cotillion representatives tried to dissipate the atmosphere, Alana left more open-mouthed witnesses than those in Valentine’s Day.

****

Outside, the show continued.

“That’s fucking it”, Alana shouted with anger cracking her voice. She fumbled her phone out her purse and dialed a number. “Geof, meet me at the front door in 2 minutes please”

“I brought my car”, Timothée interrupted.

“Forget it, go home.” She added before hung up.

The valet boy drove Timothée’s Jaguar and the couple got inside. As soon as they were there, he exhaled loudly and fixed his eyes on her.

“So…”, he started. But received no answer.

Silence reigned in the car for a couple of blocks, when a semaphore made them stop. Alana stared at him with a playful grin across her face.

“You know baby? There’s no need to take it slow. Just…”

But before she added something else, she wrapped her hands around his neck and crashed her lips against his; pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

“Are you sure?”, Timothée asked in a soft voice.

Both lovers wrapped their hands and stared straight into each other’s eyes.

“More than ever”, she smirked.

Timothée pulled her in for a second kiss but it was brief this time.

A satisfied smile spread across his face and Alana raised her head as only Queens know when a solemn phrase is about to be said.

“If you can't beat them… Join them”

*****

A, you left America a star. But after your exploits in Europe you’ve come back a supernova. And yet nothing explodes without a fuse. I wonder what —or who— lit yours. Perhaps we all know the handsome answer to that.  Just careful with the fire, kids. You might get burned.

You know you love me, XOXO

Gossip Girl.

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

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@clairesrainbow; @noobmaster63; @claryaki; @silverscreenkid; @vogueworthy-barnes; @persefoneaurispa ; @izdevett ; @mae-petite-etoile ; @tpwkalwayshs; @meliketozier; @aliceinwhateverland; @justcallmenameless; @kathrynisadogperson; @loricwizardbluetoastedcake; @vintageroses1014516; @im-not-edgy-im-just-pretentious; @xlilmultiimaginesworld; @sunnygubler; @agentcvrters; @adorablehumanbeing; @goingwiththewind; @rachel-mc11; @candycxorn; @bruvberta; @justficsandstuff; @wonderwoman292; @ncrediblelove; @napoftheesoul

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[fashiontrendin-blog]

Why I Believe in the Power of a Good Curly Haircut

http://fashion-trendin.com/why-i-believe-in-the-power-of-a-good-curly-haircut/

Why I Believe in the Power of a Good Curly Haircut

Solange Franklin is a New York-based fashion editor and freelance stylist who knows the power of a good curly cut. “Once you have that, 90 percent of the hard work is done.” Below is everything you want to know about her hair, from routine to dream hairstyle (it involves flowers). And if you’ve caught the hair bug, not to be confused with a hairball, you can read about Sarah’s hair, Amelia’s hair, Erica’s hair, Nell’s hair, Shiona’s hair, Simone’s hair, Arabelle’s hair and Megan’s hair after that.

How often do you wash your hair and when?

Ideally once a week. Realistically, whenever I feel like it or my coils are on the verge of lockage.

What’s your hair approach in the shower? What products do you use?

I’d love to be loyal to specific brands but I’m lazily cycling through different options to see what’s really working for me. Right now:

1. Soak hair 2. Apply maybe ¼ bottle of Shea Moisture Coconut and Hibiscus Curl & Shine Conditioner 3. Depending on motivation level, separate hair into quarters or eighths 4. Comb each section, starting from the ends, with Ouidad double-tooth comb 5. Massage scalp 6. Rinse and re-apply dollop of conditioner as leave-in product

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What’s your daily routine and how long does it take? Do you do something different for special occasions?

I let the steam from the shower penetrate my hair because it loosens the curl enough that I can reshape and fluff my hair once I’m getting dressed. Maybe three times a week, I’ll put a dollop of conditioner in as a leave-in moisturizer for the ends.

A special occasion is the best motivation for the full comb-through routine, but otherwise I follow the daily: allow the hair to feel dew-covered, pull it to stretch and shape, then dash out the door.

How often do you get it cut?

Once a season.

Tell me about a standout hair-related memory.

I think I was eight when my mom told me I was going in for a trim and secretly told the hairdresser to chop it all off instead. She did the same thing to my older sister; I was naïve to think the household shaming would’ve preempted her from doing it again. She had short hair at the time and wanted us to be fuss-free, too. I’m still bitterly amused by her boldness.

Have you gone through a bunch of hair phases or had the same hair your whole life?

There was the unfortunate pageboy-ish chop. Following that, I vowed never to let anyone cut my hair again, which I think I stuck to until ninth grade. As an athlete, it was hard for me to maintain a cute hairstyle that I liked, so I pretty much always had a ponytail. I did love box braids with extensions. I had a perm, probably from ages 10 to 16, and I’m still in disbelief that I tried to wear a different hairstyle every day in middle school. I’d press it with a hot comb and sometimes set it with rollers but I never developed a talent for hair styling.

Then, at 16, a hairdresser who claimed to be Aaliyah’s stylist told me I didn’t need a perm. He said it would grow faster and I should never let someone give me a middle part. I was shook. And I’ve been natural since then. I kept pressing it until 2011, I think, when a visit to the salon left me with heat damage and my curl pattern was bizarre for so long I promised to never to straighten it again. Since then, I’ve been committed to curly hair.

When do you hate your hair?

Never. That’s not to say in the past I wasn’t utterly confused by it, or didn’t wish for a seemingly simpler answer to the question, “How do I get my best hair?” Once I embraced my hair and went through some trial and error, though, I just accepted that I didn’t need perfectly uniform curls or other ideas we’re sold to dislike ourselves. I do hate that there aren’t more products to accommodate my hair. (I’m down to be an angel investor for an Afro helmet company!)

When do you love it?

Every day. Thanks, Mom and Dad.

What’s the worst hair-related decision you’ve ever made?

For a swim team initiation in high school, the seniors raided the freshmen’s beauty cabinets to humiliate us with tacky glam and costumes. When they showed up at my house, I was sleeping in my older sister’s room instead of my own, so they put her hair product in my hair.

Her hair product happened to be dreadlock cream — my hair started to lock after a few hours. Long story short: I ended up having to cut my hair off again (and this time my mom wasn’t whispering in anyone’s ear). The unkind rumor mill at school churned out the false story that my hair had “fallen out” because of a chemical reaction between a perm and chlorine. It was very traumatic at the time.

Have you ever cut your hair yourself?

I know folks who do it to save money and to feel that they can control something in their lives, but I’ve just never had the confidence. I think it’s a good goal for me to learn how to do a basic trim, though. I get too busy to go to the salon and I don’t prioritize timely cuts!

Have you ever stopped a stranger with great hair and asked them what they did to it?

I was doing a pull at Kiki de Montparnasse in my early assisting day, and this drop-dead gorgeous girl had the most perfect, modern Afro. I shyly but firmly asked her for advice and she said, “You know what. Don’t judge, but this Italian man at Ion Studio really knows what he’s doing.” She wrote his name down on the back of a receipt and I immediately booked an appointment. I couldn’t afford the haircut but I happened to know one of the salon owner’s wives, a casting director, and she generously offered a discount. It was a turning point in my hair story because I realized the power of having a good curly cut. Once you have that, 90 percent of the hard work is done.

What does your hairdresser tell you to do that you routinely ignore?

“Rinse with cold water.” I refuse because I hate being cold.

What misconceptions do people have about your hair?

That it’s difficult to maintain. It annoys me when white people say it, but it breaks my heart when women of color say it. Everyone’s hair is different, but the assumption that it requires painstaking maintenance can be so tied up in internalized hatred that I always take the time to tell black women that a) it gets easier and b) I spent way more time agonizing over my hair to make it straight, or achieve so-called perfect curls. It’s one thing to have trepidation about change, but I hope the messaging we receive about our supposed difficult tresses does not motivate that fear.

Who has your favorite hair in the world and what’s your personal dream hair?

Minnie Riperton with baby’s breath is on my perennial mood board.

Photos by Edith Young. 

[hits1000]

Reaction to Great Songs of 1972 [1970s Hits]

Reaction to Great Songs of 1972 [1970s Hits] Reaction to Great Songs of 1972 including: Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California, Alice Cooper - School's Out, Andy Williams - Speak Softly Love, Arlo Guthrie - City Of New Orleans, Bee Gees - Run To Me, Bill Withers - Lean On Me, Bread - Everything I Own, Carly Simon - You're So Vain, Chicago - Saturday In The Park, Chicory Tip - Son Of My Father and many more! 00:00 Introduction 00:42 First Part 04:40 Reaction to Part One 05:31 Second Part 09:28 Reaction to Part Two Subscribe to our channel to see more of our content! https://www.facebook.com/hits1000top https://twitter.com/Hits10001 Relate Hashtags: #songsof1972 #reactionhits1972 #reactionsongs1972 #listof1972mix #hits1972 #bestsongs1972 #classic1972playlist #greatest1972nonstop #best1972list #best1972video #top1972mix #greatest1972video #mix1972playlist #top1972nonstop #mix1972compilation 1. Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California 2. Alice Cooper - School's Out 3. Andy Williams - Speak Softly Love 4. Arlo Guthrie - City Of New Orleans 5. Bata Illic - Michaela 6. Bee Gees - My World 7. Bee Gees - Run To Me 8. Bill Withers - Lean On Me 9. Bread - Everything I Own 10. C. Jérôme - Kiss Me 11. Camilo Sesto - Algo De Mí 12. Carly Simon - You're So Vain 13. Chicago - Saturday In The Park 14. Chicory Tip - Son Of My Father 15. Christian Anders - Es Fährt Ein Zug Nach Nirgendwo 16. Chuck Berry - My Ding A Ling 17. Claude François - Le Lundi Au Soleil 18. Climax - Precious And Few 19. Daniel Boone - Beautiful Sunday 20. David Bowie - Starman 21. David Cassidy - Could It Forever 22. Deep Purple - Smoke On The Water 23. Die Windows - How Do You Do 24. Don McLean - Vincent 25. Donny Osmond - Puppy Love 26. Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show - Sylvia's Mother 27. Elton John - Crocodile Rock 28. Elton John - Rocket Man 29. Elvis Presley - Burning Love 30. Gallery - Nice To Be With You 31. Gérard Lenorman - De Toi 32. Gianni Nazzaro - Quanto È Bella Lei 33. Gilbert O'Sullivan - Alone Again (Naturally) 34. Gilbert O'Sullivan - Clair 35. Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes - If You Don't Know Me By Now 36. Harry Nilsson - Without You 37. Hot Butter - Popcorn 38. Jimmy Osmond - Long Haired Lover From Liverpool 39. Johnny Nash - I Can See Clearly Now 40. Juliane Werding - Am Tag Als Conny Kramer Starb 41. Julio Iglesias - Un Canto A Galicia 42. Lobo - I'd Love You To Want Me 43. Looking Glass - Brandy 44. Los Diablos - Oh, Oh July 45. Mac Davis - Baby Don't Get Hooked on Me 46. Michael Jackson - Ben 47. Michel Fugain - Une Belle Histoire 48. Micky - El Chico De La Armónica 49. Middle Of The Road - Samson And Delilah 50. Middle Of The Road - The Talk Of All The USA 51. Mina - Grande Grande Grande 52. Mouth & MacNeal - Hello-A 53. Neil Diamond - Song Sung Blue 54. Neil Young - Heart Of Gold 55. Nino Bravo - Un Beso Y Una Flor 56. Paul Simon - Mother and Child Reunion 57. Pooh - Pensiero 58. Raspberries - Go All The Way 59. Roberta Flack - First Time Ever I Saw Your Face 60. Roberto Carlos – A Distância 61. Rod Stewart - You Wear It Well 62. Slade - Mama Weer All Crazy Now 63. Slade - Take Me Bak 'Ome 64. Steely Dan - Do It Again 65. Stevie Wonder - Superstition 66. T. Rex - Metal Guru 67. T. Rex - Telegram Sam 68. Terry Dactyl And The Dinosaurs - On A Saturday Night 69. The Carpenters - Goodbye To Love 70. The Hollies - The Baby 71. The Move - California Man 72. The New Seekers - Beg, Steal Or Borrow 73. The Osmonds - Crazy Horses 74. The Osmonds - Down By The Lazy River 75. The Rolling Stones - Tumbling Dice 76. The Sweet - Little Willy 77. The Sweet - Wig Wam Bam 78. Three Dog Night - Black and White 79. Vicente Fernández - Volver, Volver 80. Vicky Leandros - Après Toi https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPZ_6-s7Bhs

#80S Greatest Hits #Songs Of 1980S #Old Songs #80S Songs #80S Music Hits #80S Hits #80S Songs Playlist #Grea

[hits1000]

Reaction to Great Songs of 1972 [1970s Hits]

Reaction to Great Songs of 1972 [1970s Hits] Reaction to Great Songs of 1972 including: Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California, Alice Cooper - School's Out, Andy Williams - Speak Softly Love, Arlo Guthrie - City Of New Orleans, Bee Gees - Run To Me, Bill Withers - Lean On Me, Bread - Everything I Own, Carly Simon - You're So Vain, Chicago - Saturday In The Park, Chicory Tip - Son Of My Father and many more! Subscribe to our channel to see more of our content! https://www.facebook.com/hits1000top https://twitter.com/Hits10001 Relate Hashtags: #songsof1972 #reactionhits1972 #reactionsongs1972 #listof1972mix #hits1972 #bestsongs1972 #classic1972playlist #greatest1972nonstop #best1972list #best1972video #top1972mix #greatest1972video #mix1972playlist #top1972nonstop #mix1972compilation 1. Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California 2. Alice Cooper - School's Out 3. Andy Williams - Speak Softly Love 4. Arlo Guthrie - City Of New Orleans 5. Bata Illic - Michaela 6. Bee Gees - My World 7. Bee Gees - Run To Me 8. Bill Withers - Lean On Me 9. Bread - Everything I Own 10. C. Jérôme - Kiss Me 11. Camilo Sesto - Algo De Mí 12. Carly Simon - You're So Vain 13. Chicago - Saturday In The Park 14. Chicory Tip - Son Of My Father 15. Christian Anders - Es Fährt Ein Zug Nach Nirgendwo 16. Chuck Berry - My Ding A Ling 17. Claude François - Le Lundi Au Soleil 18. Climax - Precious And Few 19. Daniel Boone - Beautiful Sunday 20. David Bowie - Starman 21. David Cassidy - Could It Forever 22. Deep Purple - Smoke On The Water 23. Die Windows - How Do You Do 24. Don McLean - Vincent 25. Donny Osmond - Puppy Love 26. Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show - Sylvia's Mother 27. Elton John - Crocodile Rock 28. Elton John - Rocket Man 29. Elvis Presley - Burning Love 30. Gallery - Nice To Be With You 31. Gérard Lenorman - De Toi 32. Gianni Nazzaro - Quanto È Bella Lei 33. Gilbert O'Sullivan - Alone Again (Naturally) 34. Gilbert O'Sullivan - Clair 35. Harold Melvin & The Blue Notes - If You Don't Know Me By Now 36. Harry Nilsson - Without You 37. Hot Butter - Popcorn 38. Jimmy Osmond - Long Haired Lover From Liverpool 39. Johnny Nash - I Can See Clearly Now 40. Juliane Werding - Am Tag Als Conny Kramer Starb 41. Julio Iglesias - Un Canto A Galicia 42. Lobo - I'd Love You To Want Me 43. Looking Glass - Brandy 44. Los Diablos - Oh, Oh July 45. Mac Davis - Baby Don't Get Hooked on Me 46. Michael Jackson - Ben 47. Michel Fugain - Une Belle Histoire 48. Micky - El Chico De La Armónica 49. Middle Of The Road - Samson And Delilah 50. Middle Of The Road - The Talk Of All The USA 51. Mina - Grande Grande Grande 52. Mouth & MacNeal - Hello-A 53. Neil Diamond - Song Sung Blue 54. Neil Young - Heart Of Gold 55. Nino Bravo - Un Beso Y Una Flor 56. Paul Simon - Mother and Child Reunion 57. Pooh - Pensiero 58. Raspberries - Go All The Way 59. Roberta Flack - First Time Ever I Saw Your Face 60. Roberto Carlos – A Distância 61. Rod Stewart - You Wear It Well 62. Slade - Mama Weer All Crazy Now 63. Slade - Take Me Bak 'Ome 64. Steely Dan - Do It Again 65. Stevie Wonder - Superstition 66. T. Rex - Metal Guru 67. T. Rex - Telegram Sam 68. Terry Dactyl And The Dinosaurs - On A Saturday Night 69. The Carpenters - Goodbye To Love 70. The Hollies - The Baby 71. The Move - California Man 72. The New Seekers - Beg, Steal Or Borrow 73. The Osmonds - Crazy Horses 74. The Osmonds - Down By The Lazy River 75. The Rolling Stones - Tumbling Dice 76. The Sweet - Little Willy 77. The Sweet - Wig Wam Bam 78. Three Dog Night - Black and White 79. Vicente Fernández - Volver, Volver 80. Vicky Leandros - Après Toi https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPZ_6-s7Bhs

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