#inspired some photo shoot i saw on instagram | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

racinginchid3nt · 8 months

Text

I’d Probably Still Adore You | Eight

Y/N x Lance Stroll, Y/N x Lando Norris, Y/N Best Friend x Pierre

Gasly

In which a night at the club and a game of never have I ever turns into something new

Inspired by 505 - Arctic Monkeys

Warnings: some smut, mostly in discussion/description. 18+

Previous | Next

————————————————————————

You spent the rest of Wednesday night relaxing in your hotel room. Starting to unpack and hanging your dress up for the event, your phone chimed.

When you checked it, it was Lando, replying to the text he had sent himself.

Smiling to yourself, you weren’t sure how you ended up with a date to tomorrow nights event but you figured if it had to be anyone at least he wasn’t a stranger. Besides Y/N Best Friend would be with Pierre, so you would have someone to talk to besides her.

————————————————————————

Thursday

Thursday morning went by quickly. You had opted to not attend media day. Pierre wasn’t on a panel and instead had individual interviews and team video shoots so there was no need to watch them.

You also took a few work calls, responding to some emails that came in throughout the day. While you had taken the day off, your boss only agreed if you were willing to participate in the two morning meetings. By midday, you were finally free to relax.

Stepping out of you room, you pushed the down button for the elevator. You’d skipped breakfast due to the time change but we’re starving and needed to pick up lunch.

As the doors opened, you saw a familiar face in the elevator.

“Hola Y/N. No sabiá que estabas aquí.” (I didn’t know you were here)

“Hola Carlos. It was kind of a last minute thing.”

“We’ll it’s great to see you. Are you going to the sponsor event tonight?”

“I am. Lando’s picking me up at 7:30.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” He laughingly replied.

Unsure of what he meant, you gave him a confused look.

“Lando told Oscar and I that he had a date last night. We wondered what poor soul he convinced and why he was so happy, but it makes sense that it would be you.”

“Oh uh yeah. We ran into each other last night and he asked.”

“Well I’ll see you tonight.” He replied, before stepping out of the elevator.

He made his way to the front desk, while you continued to the front doors. As you stepped outside you were greeted by a large crowd behind a barrier. Someone must have leaked the drivers hotel. As you pushed through the crowd to try and get to the small bistro you had seen on the way in last night, you were surprised to hear someone scream your name.

“Y/N! Can I get a picture?”

Unsure of what to do or why someone would want a picture with you, you turned and saw a fan in a Ferrari shirt waving at you. Confused you walked up and took a quick selfie. Was this because of that wag post a few weeks ago? You noticed a few other people taking photos of you as you chatted with the girl about the race weekend, before wrapping up and continuing on.

You placed your order to go from the bistro, heading back to the hotel to eat in your room and relax before you needed to get ready. As you sat down to eat and scroll through your phone, you got an Instagram notification that you were tagged in a photo.

Opening the app you saw that you had once again made the wag Instagram. It wasn’t your best picture, makeup free and hair undone, but you hadn’t expected anyone to care about you.

Is this what it’s always like for Y/N Best Friend you thought? You couldn’t escape the stupid wag pages and you weren’t even seeing anyone.

————

Lance sat in the car on the way back to the hotel from media day. The break had been nice, but he was ready to be back behind the wheel. Zandvort wasn’t his favorite track, but it certainly wasn’t his least favorite either.

As he sat in backseat of the car, driving the 30km or so back to the hotel, he thought back to the night before. When he arrived at the hotel from the airport, he had seen Y/N. After their hookup before the break, he had expected that to be the end of their interactions. He’d never seen her at a race before that week, so he figured he wouldn’t any time soon.

But to see her getting out of the car with Norris was a shock. While he hadn’t reached out to her after the hookup, she also hadn’t reached out to him. The last thing he expected though was for her to be dating someone already. It had to be serious if they had arrived together, but with less than a month for the break, he questioned how quickly that happened.

He had spent the next week replaying the night over in his mind. And every time a girl flirted with him on break, he couldn’t help but compare her to Y/N. Had she really thought so little of the night that she could move on immediately? During their game at the after party she had said she’d never slept with a driver. Sure Norris has mean’t the question about Pierre when he asked it, but that also mean’t she hadn’t slept with Lando either.

He knew first hand that there was a lot more to hookups besides sex. Just because she hadn’t fucked him didn’t mean she couldn’t have kissed him. Or sucked his dick. And as the thought of her getting on her knees for Norris crossed his mind, the tiniest hint of jealousy bleed through. He had missed out of the chance of that. Missed out on watching those big brown eyes look up at him while he fucked into her mouth. Missed out on watching her swallow down his cum.

He didn’t know much about Norris, but he seemed to have some charm. Lance had seen him leave the club with his fair share of women. What if he had the chance to eat her out? That thought sat even worse. He didn’t like the idea of someone else, much less another driver getting to see her like that. Recalling the look of her glazed over eyes when he tucked her in on the couch, he didn’t like the idea that he wasn’t the only one who had seen her like that.

He wasn’t typically a possessive man, but he also didn’t typically interact much with his occasional flings after the fact. He’d been single for awhile, hooking up here or there as he felt like it, girls aware of the situation, that it would be a one time thing. But for someone else to have made a move on what he viewed to have been his first didn’t sit right with him at all. He knew better then to confront either of them, he had no rights. But why was he upset about that?

Opening up Instagram for the first time in a week, he navigated to her profile. She had posted twice during the break, one a casual photo of her and some friends at dinner, the other a photo of her laying out at the beach. He tried to think back to where Norris had said he was spending the break. He said he was going somewhere warm, and he vaguely recalled an Instagram story of him on a jet ski. Had she gone with him?

Flipping through her story she had only two posts up. One of a photo outside the plane window, showing the dark runway at the Amsterdam airport, and one of what he presumed was her lunch from earlier. Neither of those were helpful in the slightest. He’d already started to edge towards creeper territory, so he might as well take it further.

Navigating to her tagged photos, he saw a new one from earlier that day. It showed a zoomed in photo of her on her phone, hair up in one of those messy clips and in a casual outfit, she seemed to be walking down the street. Reading the caption, it confirmed what he already knew. She was staying at the same hotel as all of the drivers.

Esteban had complained earlier to him that his room was next to Pierre and his girlfriend. Apparently the two had been going at it 24/7 for the past few days. Which meant that she hadn’t flown in with them and wasn’t staying with them. So who was she staying with? He didn’t know what she did for work but highly doubted she had forked over the money for overpriced luxury hotel.

Pulling up to the hotel, he exited the car. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he thought about the upcoming sponsor event. He’d have to stop by for at least a few hours to socialize. It wasn’t really Fernando’s thing and someone had to represent the team well. At least they would serve dinner he thought to himself, the food was normally good at these things. As he headed up to his room, he ran through the rest of his weekend, analyzing what his engineer had told him earlier, all thoughts of Y/N leaving his head.

————————————————————————

A/N:

I really appreciate the support I’ve gotten on this story so far. If you guys could continue to like, comment, and reblog I would really appreciate it!

#f1 fanfic #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x y/n #lance stroll x you #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #f1 #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #aston martin #alpine #mclaren

67 notes · View notes

pensat-i-fet · 2 years

Text

Private Photoshoot (Rúben Dias x Reader)

Masterlist

Word count: 2372

** Little imagine inspired by this shoot. With a teensy bit of smut. I'm not good at writing it, but I hope you like it ❤️ **

After a month of travelling and non-stop working, the last thing you wanted was to hear about anything related to work. So when your boyfriend Rúben picked you up from the airport you could only think about getting home and cuddling with him. But he had different plans.

“Do you need anything before I go?”, he said as you fell, face first, on the sofa.

“What? You are leaving?”

“Sorry. I was supposed to do this photoshoot while you were away but it got cancelled and I need to go now. It’s just a couple of hours”.

“Ugh, don’t talk to me about photoshoots. I hate them”.

You could hear his laugh getting closer and turned your head to see him kneeling next to you before he started to play with your hair.

“So…you won’t come with me? I need my fashion expert to help me pose”.

“I wish I could, babe. But I’m literally so exhausted”.

“You sure?”, he said, trying the puppy eyes tactic. That usually works but you truly were too tired to move from the sofa. Or at least that’s what you thought.

“Sorry, babe. Leave the address of the studio written for me just in case I feel better later and I might join you there”.

“Ok!! Maybe you can pick me up. I'm going to call a taxi now instead of driving.”

"Sure", you said, closing your eyes to try and get some much needed sleep.

He wrote the address for you on one of your post-its that were everywhere in the apartment and left after giving you a quick kiss.

Annoyingly, you couldn’t fall asleep despite being extremely tired. And so you got your phone to scroll on Instagram.

Only five minutes later, you got a message from Rúben.

“Are you awake?”, it said.

“Yes, can’t sleep. How is the shoot going?”

“Well, I wanted your opinion about my outfit 😉”.

You told him to send you a photo while you got up to get a glass of water. When you opened the photo, you almost choked on your drink while taking a sip.

The last thing you were expecting was a photo of Rúben only wearing very short and very tight boxer briefs.

Once you recovered from the shock, you started to text him back.

“I think you sent the wrong photo, but keep them coming. I’m not complaining 😏😏”.

“Not the wrong photo, my love. This is the only thing I’ll be wearing”.

Oh.

“Well, this and the same thing but in three different colours”.

It obviously wouldn’t be the first time you saw your boyfriend wearing so little, but the idea of him posing for the camera wearing just that made you forget about the exhaustion you’ve been complaining about all day.

You were the one who took his photos during the holidays and the way he was always so playful made you stop mid-photoshoot every single time. There were better things to do than take photos.

“You know, I better go there and help you”, you said.

“But I thought you were tired”.

“I’ll get over it”.

You quickly changed into something a bit more appropriate than your plane clothes and ran to the garage. The address Rúben left for you was very familiar, since you had worked at that studio multiple times and, thankfully, it wasn’t too far away from where you two lived.

Once you got to the building, you saw that the woman working at the reception was one you had met many times, so you wouldn't need to call Rúben to get anyone to let you in. This meant you could get to surprise him a bit even though he knew you were on your way.

“Oh hi! What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in Paris?”

“Hi! I just came back from there”.

“And you’re back to work already?”, she said, frowning, “can’t they give you a break?”

To that, you laughed. “No, I’m not working. But my boyfriend is doing a shoot here for Nike and I thought I could surprise him”.

“Right, I thought I recognized him from somewhere. Well, sign here and you can go see him”.

After writing down your name and thanking her, you went to the studio where Rúben was doing the photoshoot.

When you opened the door, your boyfriend was the first person you spotted. His back was to you and, as promised, he was only wearing the tiny underwear he showed you. An assistant was busy putting moisturizer on his legs and you could tell how uncomfortable he felt by the way his shoulders were tensing. She looked terrified too. Poor thing couldn't be older than 19.

“Need help with that?”, you said, startling him.

“You actually came?”, he said, turning to face you and almost hitting the poor assistant in the face with his knee. “Sorry!”

“Are you done, honey?”, you said to the assistant.

“Almost”.

“Do you want me to finish so you can take a break?”, you offered.

“Ok”, she said, giving you the pot of cream and running away.

“Jealous of another woman touching me?”, said Rúben, cocky expression on his face.

“Worried about her passing out”, you laughed. “So, where else do you need me to moisturise you? I was an assistant once too, you know? I’m an expert”.

“Mmmmm”, he said, looking at you in a way you had definitely missed this past month. “I think you should start all over if you are that good”.

“Of course you do, you perv”.

You then put a bit of the cream on your hands and rubbed them together to warm it up before grabbing one of Rúben’s arms to apply it. Once you were done, you did the same with the other and then moved to his chest and stomach. He tensed again, but in a very different way to how he had before. You remained silent the whole time and didn’t even look at him. You knew that was going to have an even bigger effect on him. He loved holding eye contact with you, especially during more intimate moments, and not being able to do it was driving him mad.

He gently grabbed your chin so you would look at him, but you only told him to turn around so you could do his back.

“Brat”, he said under his breath and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

“All done”, you said once you had finished.

“I think she missed a spot on my legs, baby. You should do them too”.

“Rúben!”, you said, pretending to be offended. “Wait until we get home to ask me to get on my knees”.

“Unbearable”, he said, rolling his eyes. "Absolutely unbearable".

You moved away laughing, looking for a towel so you could clean your hands from the excess product and then felt strong arms wrapping around your waist. Rúben then started to leave kisses on your neck and you just closed your eyes to enjoy being this close to him again.

“I missed you”, he whispered.

“I can tell”, you said, laughing.

You turned around and looked him up and down.

“Well, the good news is they won’t need to put any filling in the pants to make you look good”, you said with a wink before leaving to say hi to the crew.

Except for a couple of people, they were all people you had worked with and they assured you it was ok for you to stay there.

Fifteen minutes into the shoot, you could tell it wasn’t going well. Rúben was too stiff and the photographer was getting annoyed.

You tried to catch your boyfriend’s eye to give him an encouraging smile and maybe get him to relax a bit, but he just stared at the camera in the most unnatural way.

“Mr Dias, for a man that posts so many shirtless photos, you seem a bit lost today”, tried to joke the photographer.

“Sorry, I just…it feels weird to be doing this in front of so many people”.

“Don’t worry. No one cares about what you are wearing, we are used to seeing models in a lot less”.

“Less?”, he says, and that was when he looked at you. Is that jealousy or are you seeing things?

“Who takes the photos for your Instagram? Just imagine I’m them and relax”, offered the photographer.

That made Rúben look at you. “Her”.

The photographer turned to look at you. “Right, the girlfriend. Why don’t you come here and get him to pose for me, darling?"

You obliged and went to where Rúben was standing.

“Babe, you need to relax, ok? Let’s try the poses I tell you about when we do silly shoots at home. You’ll look amazing”, you said to him while massaging his shoulders to try to stop him from being so stiff.

“So you see a lot of naked men at work, huh? You forgot to tell me about that”, he said, a funny look on his face.

“I also see a lot of naked women and you never had an issue with that”.

“It’s not the same”.

“It is for me. This is a job. I don’t come here to flirt or look at anyone. I like being professional, thank you very much”.

You could tell he still wasn't very convinced. Such a silly boy.

“Besides, why would I look at anyone when I have you waiting for me at home at the end of my work day?”

That got a small smile from him.

“There, keep your smile like that. Perfect!”, you said, running to where the photographer was to tell him to start shooting.

Once they were done modelling the first two colours, it was time for the black boxer briefs. Your personal favourite.

“I feel like doing something a bit different now that he’s got the hang of it. What do you think?”, the photographer told you.

“I have the perfect pose”.

You then moved Rúben so he was sitting down on the floor. Every single muscle could be seen even more now that he was in this position. No need for photoshop with this one.

“Ok, look down and…your hand can stay here”.

“What?”, he said, looking up at you. “It looks like I’m looking at my cock. You sure this is the pose you want?”

“It’s hot!”

“How?”

“You won’t get it”, you said. “But trust me”.

Instead of joining the photographer, you moved to the monitor to make sure you saw every photo made. You didn’t want to miss any. Taking your phone out, you filmed a quick video of the photos as they were showing up on the screen. Hot indeed.

“Stop drooling!”, laughed Claire, the stylist for the shoot.

“Can’t!”

Once the shoot was over, everyone started to pack their belongings and left one by one. Claire offered you to keep the underwear Rúben had been modelling and you didn’t doubt it once before accepting. A little idea coming to your mind.

"I'm done", said Rúben, hugging you and lifting you from the floor, making you giggle.

"Do you want to drive?", you offered, giving him the keys to the car.

"Sure".

When you got home, it was him who fell on the sofa, sighing and complaining about how tired he was.

"Get up!", you said to him, making him look at you confused.

You then took the underwear from the shoot out of your bag and showed it to him.

"It's time for part two of the photoshoot. The private photoshoot. The one only I get to see".

"Did you steal that?", he said, laughing and slowly walking towards you.

"No, but let's pretend I did. Makes the whole thing sexier".

You grabbed his hand and took him to your bedroom. After changing the lights so they wouldn't be too bright, you told him to get changed into the black boxer briefs again. When he left, you went to your underwear drawers quickly to pick your own outfit and ran to the other bathroom to get changed.

While you were almost done getting ready, you started to hear Rúben calling you.

"One second".

You made sure you looked as good as you wanted and decided to put your hair up in a messy bun so your long locks wouldn't get in the way.

On the way to the room, you grabbed your camera. No way this was going anywhere near the cloud.

"Ready?", you said looking at your boyfriend.

He looked at you hungrily and started to approach you.

"No no no. You don't get to touch the photographer yet".

"You and your games", he said, shaking his head and sitting on the bed.

You started to take photos of him, stopping only to tell him how to move. Kissing him and touching him lightly every time you got close to him, only to leave him wanting more while you took more photos.

You then set the timer and positioned the camera so you could both be in the photo. One time, and two, and three…each time forgetting about the camera more and just getting lost in each other.

When you went to set the timer again, you could feel Ruben's hand on your lower back, getting higher until he reached the back of your bra and unclasped it.

You moved to remove it but he stopped you. "No, strip for the camera, remember?", he whispered in your ear, reminding you of the times you had told him the same thing.

He then moved to hold the camera himself, signalling with his eyes that he wanted you back in the bed to pose for him.

"For the camera or for you?", you said with a smirk.

"Same thing. And take your time like I will later".

You definitely took your time, first not facing the camera and turning slowly to allow him to take a photo of your every move.

Once the bra was on the floor, you covered yourself with your arms and looked at the man behind the camera, who had clearly enjoyed the show.

"Let me see you", he said, voice low.

"Make me!", you dared him.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #ruben dias smut

371 notes · View notes

ausetkmt · 5 months

Text

A trailer for a low-budget film that thinly recreates the night rapper Tory Lanez shot Megan Thee Stallion in July 2020 has gone viral and fans of the “Cobra” rapper are not here for it.

Will The Real Black Journalists Please Stand Up

Under a trailer available to watch on YouTube, the synopsis for an upcoming film called “The Rapper Who Got Shot In The Heel” reads like this: “Music artist Raven The Stallion and Cory Gainz are having a secret love affair behind their friend Chelsea’s back. One night after a lot of partying and drinking everything goes wrong, leading to a shooting that will forever change their relationship.”

youtube

Sound familiar? Many social media users thought so too, and they are not having it.

“This is tacky as hell” wrote one commentator under the trailer on YouTube. Another commentator agreed and wrote, “This not it.”

Produced by 9/10 Productions Film, the trailer was actually released back in September, but lately it has been making the rounds on social media because director Alvin Gray posted movie stills from the film on Instagram that were set to audio from Stallion’s “Anxiety.”

A caption for the photos reads:

“Movie stills for the film “The Rapper Who Got Shot in the Heel”! The film was a heavy production, focusing on bringing REAL awareness to domestic violence within our community and making the appropriate choices before it’s too late! I hope people learn from this film, and not take it too lightly.

So, far there has been no set release date for the production, and it could be because no streamer wants to touch the subject. Previously, 9/10's productions were picked up on Amazon and Tubi—including “The Nurse That Saw the Baby on the Highway,” inspired by the Carlee Russell hoax—social media users assumed that the Stallion and Lanez-inspired drama would also be available on the streaming platform. But Tubi reportedly told Vibe Magazine that the film is not on its streaming platform, and there are no plans to ever have the film on its platform.

A negative response to the trailer also prompted director Gray to release a video statement on Dec. 14 to clarify why he felt dramatizing the incident was important.

youtube

He explained, “I want you to understand this movie is not poking fun at domestic violence or anyone getting hurt or anyone getting shot. If you truly are a fan of mine, you know I don’t even get down like that.”

He added, “I was intrigued by that whole thing. Because — this is my opinion, personally — a lot of things didn’t make sense. Guilty, not guilty, whatever the case may be, certain things just didn’t make sense to me which is intriguing. That’s how I am as a filmmaker.”

While some wrestle over whether the “The Rapper Who Got Shot In The Heel” is shrewd filmmaking or simply an exploitation of a Black woman’s trauma, others can’t wait for more.

“You should do Puffy next lol,” wrote one commentator under the Gray’s film stills, referencing Diddy’s recent legal troubles.

#The Rapper Who Got Shot In The Heel #megan thee stallion #tory lanez #rappers #Youtube

7 notes · View notes

fourseasonsfigs · 10 months

Text

The Wizard of Oz - Deluxe Version

I already posted about LV Wizard of Oz Jun, wearing this LV Virgil Abloh suit...from the same fig maker, even! This seated fig was her special version, released on a limited quantity drop of 400, with a 7 minute timer countdown.

Purchasers had to answer a question (his birthday) which was quite literally the easiest thing in the world, but I lost precious seconds using my translate app, and it sold out. Thankfully, I was able to pick this up when the fig maker dropped a few remainders. Those sold out right away too, but there was no question this time, so I was able to speedily click right through.

This inflatable red chair used for Gong Jun's Vogue World shoot last October is the inspiration:

Here's also a behind the scenes version of the shoot for your viewing pleasure, showing him in the chair:

I grabbed a quick screenshot of him in the chair so you could see it for fig comparison purposes!

I love the casual pose - the bare feet, his leg tucked up under him. It contrasts wonderfully with the full glam of the outfit and jewelry.

Did my heart sink a little when I opened this up and saw the phone like this? Yes it did! It looked weird in the box. Also, I had so much trouble with Gong Jun's other phone on his CT Pink Jun, that I perhaps was not mentally prepared for another one.

Luckily it unfolded just fine. It's a really well done little phone, with some nice detail on the headset speaker and also on the key pad.

The chair looks great. There's a little tiny hole on one side of the phone (and only one side), where the end of the cord fits into.

He kept slipping right out of the chair, so I stuck him into it with one larger fig sticker. Easy enough. But then, it was phone wrangling time. The phone handset only goes in one angle and one way. There ends up being plenty of room in his grip once you get the phone in it, but only in the midsection of the phone.

OK, great, right? Actually, terrible. If you zoom in a little, you can see a notch on his finger where the phone cord is supposed to wrap around, just like in that screen grab I, uh, grabbed. However, his knee is in the way of the cord. I tried very gently bending the cord to try to get it to connect to his finger, and no way. I tried bending it a little harder, but it's fairly rigid, and I was worried I would snap it in two.

Unfortunately, because of the sharp angle of the cord, when I attach the phone into the hole on the side, you end up with this weird kind of half-standing phone. And, it covers up his foot, which kind of ruins the whole casual vibe of the look.

The funny thing is, I had actually seen photos of this fig on xhs (a Chinese equivalent of Instagram) looking exactly like this. I remember thinking, my goodness, why do they have the phone looking so weird? WELL NOW I KNOW.

You and me, Zhehan. And Hanbao!

Here's another try, where I focused on getting the cord as close enough to his finger as possible. You can see how the handset is almost coming out of his hand, and how the cord is in no way reaching his index finger.

Here's an even worse configuration! I'm not easily discouraged, but let me tell you, I started muttering some choice words after a while. I fiddled with this so much it really is remarkable I didn't end up snapping the cord or wiggling the other end of it loose.

Did I ever get it to work? No. I finally just stuck the phone on his lap in aggravation and started to fire off some pics.

The patchy area on his eyebrow is not a flaw, it's simply a ray of sunlight gently touching his face.

You will note here though that he's not centered on the chair - there's a lot of distance between his curled-up leg and the armrest. That's not a trick of the camera angle, that's actually how it is. When he's centered in the chair, his hand fits perfectly over the armrest, which further negates any possibility of the phone cord wrapping around his finger, so I tried to scooch him over a bit to see if that would be the solution. Nope! It sure wasn't. I haven't moved him back over yet though, but I'm going to.

You can see here how his hand doesn't fit on the armrest of the chair, but it normally would.

I really do like the chair. It's smoothly molded with no real flaws or inclusions in the acrylic. What you see as weird bumps and ridges is actually just the summer sunlight pouring in through my window and reflecting off Junjun's colorful suit.

Case in point! You can really see the outline of the fig through the chair here.

As you might imagine, this fig is pretty heavy. That head is pretty huge, and the chair is fairly light, so that contributed to him slipping out of it so easily. The fig sticker has been working very well to keep him sitting firmly in the chair though.

The only problem with the fig sticker, of course, is that his foot doesn't touch the ground, since the sticker is fairly thick. I really ought to just glue him to the chair, but I dislike doing anything permanent to the figs unless I absolutely have to. I don't mind his feet not touching the ground!

I really dislike the phone in his lap, but we're just not going to mention it. Instead we're just going to admire the leaves in his absolutely enormous eyes and his gold Tiffany ring.

Here's a slightly more angled-down shot so you can see how close the cord manages to get to his hand on the chair (although of course it makes the handset almost come out of his other hand). Keep in mind at this point the other end is not actually attached to the phone, it's just hiding underneath the base there. If had actually tried to attach the phone to the base, it would be standing up strangely on one corner on the ground or something.

Please note the beauty mark on his chest! That's a nice touch.

I'm not sure why his curled up foot (and his chest, for that matter) is skewing so white colored here. It looks like he has a sock on! That foot is indeed a bit lighter than the foot resting on the floor, but not that much.

You can see how his hand is molded to fit around the armrest of the chair, and the detail on his toes.

The box card art and box are similar to the other fig, but prominently feature the red inflatable chair. Which makes sense, this is the "deluxe" part of this deluxe version!

Material: Resin (figure) and acrylic (chair)

Fig Count: 424

Scene Count: 29

Rating: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#gong jun #word of honor cast #figthusiast

11 notes · View notes

pedrosfrownline · 1 year

Text

As of yet untitled:

Pedro shall be referred to P as I find using his real name a bit too cringe. I haven’t found a character of his that I can relate this scenario to though!

Slow burn

Fluff/flirt

Set a few years in the future.

Reader is F mid 30s. There will be descriptions of her body and looks but nothing too specific or niche.

I have no access to a computer or tablet for formatting. This is just written off the cuff. Off my phone!

- I’m 15 years of rusty when it comes to writing! Be kind.

Let’s begin.

You’ve spent a long time getting yourself to this point. Endless trips up and down thrift shops isles. Teaching yourself to sew well enough to get by. Working for free for small publications. Paying for photographers and models to even wear your work. The constant networking at hipster fashion events. You are older than most of the people you’re pandering to. It’s humbling and sometimes you wonder why you bothered trying.

You’ve always been creative. Creative but shy. Unable to paint, or write. Acting makes you cringe and whilst music is a passion it’s something you consume. What has always inspired you is fashion. Bowie in sequins, Mercury in leather, Bolan in feathers. Stevie Nicks spinning around in lace and velvet. Siouxie Soux and her painted face. Prince reigning supreme in purple.

Whilst working dead end jobs you collect vintage pieces here and there. You wear a few, sell a few, and when word gets around you start to dress local bands. Your name gets thrown around a little on social media. While the world wakes up to fast fashion and its effect on climate change and even human rights, vintage style comes back in a big way. You aren’t the sort of person who predicts the big future trends, but you are the sort of person that can inject that bit of nostalgia into a photo shoot on a hip new artist whilst appealing to the feel good factor of reusing and recycling old materials.

While your following was getting larger, your bank balance was getting smaller. It was during this time your relationship fell apart. In part finances. In part your time away from home. Largely though the flame had fizzled. On two entirely different trajectories there were no words left to say to each other. While painful it wasn’t resentful. But it did push you on to get paid for your efforts.

It was while attending an event in a small London basement bar your arm was taken by a woman you recognise. She introduces herself as Jas Ryder. She has a small group of professional types around her, you assume her “team” her vibe is typical bright young thing. Tight dress, some sparkles, probably costs far more than it looks. You wonder why she’s talking to you.

“I’m nominated for a BAFTA”

You nod politely.

“I saw your work on Instagram last week, my friend shared it”

Ah. You’ve had this conversation a lot now. She’ll want a free outfit. She’ll wear it to the ceremony. She’ll forget to credit you literally anywhere and you’ll sit at home with your beans on toast wondering how you’ll pay your phone bill this month.

“Oh wow that’s great. Glad word is getting around.”

“I wondered if you’d like to style me for it.”

A suited gentleman next to her pipes up

“This is my card. Email me your rates of pay and your terms and we’ll take it from there”

You take his card and smile. Pleasantly surprised.

And from there things really took off. She actually won that night. And she won in a marvellous silk gown that had been created from various bits and pieces in deep jewel tones to create a subtle patchwork. She was a delight and shared your name in every photo. Your phone started to ring with more offers of work. Some even stateside.

One such call was to work as a stylist on a mini documentary series chronicling the successes of various actors across the Star Wars franchises. It was to be mixed media with online and print interviews and they needed clothing for both. You was invited to bring a small capsule wardrobe of key items and were encouraged to be creative. The payment for this job would be enough to live comfortably for a few months. And they offered to cover your entire travel and stay if successful.

You start to wonder who the actors might be. You’re ashamed to admit your knowledge of Star Wars really starts and ends with Harrison Ford. But, they got your name from somewhere. They know what your about.

You pick up your keys and take a trip to the storage unit you now rent for what is quickly becoming a museum of various items of fashion. A small table and sewing machine in the middle. Lace currently thrown over it, in a late night gin addled attempt to make a sexy bandage dress made out of lace doilies. You were utterly unsuccessful.

You know it’s for a man, so that discounts most of your work. You start at your suits. Varying levels of flamboyance. Immediately you are drawn to a plush burgundy velvet. No labels inside. Probably hand tailored in the late 70s. Only a small flare. Conservative. You grab a basic crisp white shirt, and your favourite of all the male shoes, a Cuban heel. Actors are usually shorter than you expect. It helps to give them a sneaky lift. You think about the brief. “Capsule” they want statement pieces that can be interchangeable and mixed and matched to make several outfits and comfy.

You have a lovely collection of Levi’s built up over a decade. A slim bootcut jean will work well with the cuban heels, you grab a black leather belt and look at some shirts. You’re thinking Americana. Star Wars has always been so American. Bowling shirt. Bingo. You have a lovely olive green silk shirt with gorgeous embroidery all over it. It’ll catch the camera light perfectly. It’ll also be a great interview outfit. Comfy. Looks good tight or loose. You then pick a lovely black floral shirt to match the original suit. You figure it shows who you are, referential, and assuming your actor isn’t too young, it’ll be classic. You can’t dress Mark Hamill in tech wear now can you?

You’re packed and good to go. Sewing kit, the suit dry cleaned and pristine. You’re fairly certain you look good. Flared jeans, white shirt with balloon sleeves, suede waistcoat pulling you in on the waist. Baker boy hat covering some roots that are well overdue. Cowboy boots. You had to. It’s your first time in America.

You’re met by a polite man in a Tesla. He’s charmed by your accent. You make small talk. You’re nervous. Before you know it you’re in the building. Being ushered into a small room. There’s a rail, a tiny fold out table, a steamer and a room divider making a makeshift dressing room of sorts. By that there’s a dresser and a full length mirror. You quickly unpack, accessories on the table. Shoes by the dresser chair. Suit, shirt, jeans placed on the rail. You quickly touch up your makeup after the phenomenally long journey and stifle a yawn as a tall, slim and impeccably dressed white haired man comes into the room. You make small talk with him about what you do, your environmental ethos, who you’ve dressed before, who you’d like to work with in the future. He takes photos of the outfits. He explains he shows the outfits to the actors and they’ll chose who they like the look of. You nod, smile and he’s gone.

You pace around a bit wondering how many other stylists were invited to this. How far in their career they might be. Do they have the keys to Dior collections? How many of them trawl eBay looking for bell bottoms?

The man returns, not alone this time.

“Hi, my name is Pedro, nice to meet you”

You hold out your hand. He’s a familiar face to you. A handsome face… A very handsome face.

You croak our your name in response, possibly the first time being Star struck in this job and before you can say anything else both men are walking to your station. They’re touching the suit. P laughs at the Cuban heels. Not in a mocking way, just in a sort of knowing way.

You breathe and steady yourself.

“What do you think?”

“Did you think I was short?”

I answer truthfully

“I didn’t know who I might be dressing. They might appreciate a lift. We all like a longer leg right?”

P motions to the dressing area. “May I?” You nod.

A small blush creeps over your nose. Of all the actors. It would be the man that was your hall pass for the best part of 15 years. You are very acquainted with his roles. Even the Star Wars one, though in your defence you didn’t really see him so you didn’t really pay too much attention. It hadn’t occurred to you it could have been him. It had been years. Truthfully you’d forgotten.

“Like a glove” he reappears in that wine suit. His hair a little more peppered with white, smile lines a little deeper. But still striking. You’re going to need to tailor the jacket slightly. It’s too tight in a few places though you won’t say so right now. You can tell in his body language white haired man agrees with you, but also remains silent.

You blush again at the thought of having to measure him and remain professional. You think to yourself you really would have rather been dressing Harrison Ford…

“You’ve got the job. We’ll get you set up at the apartment and the job starts Thursday at 3pm. It’ll be wrapped by the following Wednesday. As a goodwill gesture you get the apartment for an additional week to see the sights of this wonderful city. We’ll call when the keys are ready, grab a bagel or something”

P was already back in the corner getting dressed. Baggy white t shirt, green shirt over the top. Loose jeans and brown boots. You can’t imagine any of it being designer. Comfortably worn in. You hang back a little waiting to take the suit off him. You mentally prepare for it to be handed back in a crunched up bundle but it’s folded carefully. You put it on the table

“I um… may I take some measurements before you go? Or if you have someone that can send me accurate ones that’ll be fine… I Hmmm… I noticed the jacket was maybe a little tight across the shoulder, I can let it out slightly. Same on the waist of the trousers”

“Calling me chunky?”

“Gosh no, it’s just not made for you but I want you to be comfy and look your best.”

He laughs, obviously pulling my leg

“My assistant can send you my numbers”

You nod. Slightly deflated that you won’t need to measure him at all. He leaves. You pack up your stuff and wait for the call for keys.

You’re still good friends with your ex

“You’ll never guess who it is” you text him in the escalator

“Who?”

“*this is the way*”

“Get out of here! How did he smell?”

“I’ll find out for you”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fanfic #frankie morales #joel the last of us #mandalorian fanfic #Spotify

7 notes · View notes

memorycard83 · 1 year

Text

Taking pictures

The other day I went to go take some pictures for my friends shop that she works at. I’ve been wanting to take pictures there for some time but never got around to it. The times I did show up with a camera, it was a digicam or a fujifilm point & shoot digital camera that actually managed to take some good pictures in my opinion. It was a little different being put in a position where I was taking pictures for someone instead of for myself, but I still wanted to do it because I wanted to see if I know exactly what I’m doing when it comes to taking pictures of products. I brought my most expensive camera ever not to show off or anything, but because I knew it was the camera I wanted to use for the shoot since I’m actually pretty familiar with how it operates. Not only that, I really like how it renders color despite my eyes being terrible with colors.

During the shoot I realized I wanted to do mostly jewelry and not shoot plants but remembered that I was supposed to take pictures of the plants and not just jewelry. The problem I had with this shoot wasn’t that simple but kind of was. The lighting between the hours of 3-6 is not good for the plants, the sun is behind the building so there isn’t really any light being shined into the store. And even though there was some natural light bouncing off from the streets, it was a gloomy day which made the colors more on the cool side despite fixing my white balance in camera. Not only that, wasn’t that used to taking pictures in front of people and being hyped up as a photographer. The ideas I had were mostly inspired from product photography photos I’ve seen that stuck with me or photos I saw and I’m like okay, this is definitely something I can replicate and it’s actually not unattainable, but honestly I don’t think a lot of photography looks are unattainable, however I’ll talk about that another time because this is mostly about the photoshoot.

The photos turned out well, I do wish I had brought other lenses that would’ve took in more light or delivered a wider look or blurrier backgrounds because everyone loves that. I posted some on my main instagram because I haven’t posted in awhile and felt like this was fitting for the moment and not only that idk when I’ll be taking pictures with that camera again since it’s so heavy to carry around. I’m not sure how the rest of the people at the store felt about the images but hopefully they do end up being used for their website or newsletters.

I barely consider myself a photographer but that’s probably because I know the expectations people have for this idea of a photographer and I don’t think I meet that expectation among most people. I’m fully aware what I’m capable of, it’s good but it isn’t to the point where people are going to want to buy my photos because they may think their iPhone is sufficient enough to tackle the task. If only it was that simple, not only that I think there is beauty to using a real camera for photography, obviously it’ll turn out a lot different than the photos you take from an iPhone, but ergonomically it’s a lot more fun and easier to figure out how you want your photo to turn out with the ability to adjust settings and the focus plane.

This shoot did inspire me to shoot a more often than before with a real camera but also reminded me I’m pretty capable of taking good pictures if I’m given the right setting and tools needed.

0 notes

zachmorgan23 · 2 years

Text

Week 2 Assignment

Instagram is where I like to find inspiration, along with tumblr. I have not used either platform for some time because I wanted to stay off of social media. But, this class has caused me go to back and I am glad I am back on.

With that being said, I saw an interesting story posted on instagram by Hang. The picture consisted of a blue eyeball with two pupils zoomed in. For some reason, the image spoke to me. I have always been intrigued by eyes and feel as though they posses a greater meaning. I actually have an eyeball tattooed on the bend of my arm.

Anyways, getting back to the post. I decided to do more research on it and found who’s eye it was and what they do. The contact eyeball consisting of another pupil was used for an album cover shoot. The album is called ‘Bubba’ and the artist who used the contact goes by the name of KAYTRANADA. I found this post and this artist a few years ago and he is, til this day, one of my favorite artists. I am glad this post was presented to me and is has gave me inspiration and music just from doing research. Due to this post and this class, I have been doing more research on other photos that I get inspiration from.

#KAYTRANADA eyeball

0 notes

jcosky · 2 years

Photo

Dear Friends of @lamacchinafissa and Reading Retreats in Rural Italy, Inspired by some gorgeous photographs of new hats I saw on Instagram and a Dr. Seuss book from my childhood entitled Old Hat, New Hat!, together with the Paduan hat maker, Isacco Zanon of jcosky, we are planning a hat party and photo shoot at La Macchina Fissa on Saturday July 30th. Zanon has asked us to bring our old hats, if we want, for cleaning, re-shaping, re-styling... but the stars of the evening are definitely going to be his new handmade hats, which he will kindly show us how he makes. I am ready with some of my dusty old ones and I have given him my precise head measurement for a new one, too, so let the hat making and wearing begin! Come with whatever old hats you like, and, if you want what you see here in this temporary exhibit of jcosky fine Italian hats, you can order one or take a new one home! Come with lots of battery and space on your phones, too, because we will be doing an amateur photo shoot of everyone in their old and new hats, posing in the garden, in the kitchen, on the patio, out in the fields, and in the pumpkin jungle. Yes, so very Instagrammable, but not meant to be a mere exercise in vanity. We are doing this to celebrate our place, our association, the philosophy and style of La Macchina Fissa, our growing art collection, thousands of books, jungle-y pumpkin-y garden... and Italian artists like Isacco Zanon. The evening starts at eight with cocktails, followed by a buffet and Isacco's presentation of what he makes and how he makes them. Dessert around 10:30, and then back home or, if you would like, have another drink, hang out longer, star gaze, and spend the night here. We have rooms available. Clark #invitation #caravaggio #hat #hatmaker #hatters #hatlover https://www.instagram.com/p/CgbvDsgtazc/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#invitation #caravaggio #hat #hatmaker #hatters #hatlover

0 notes

outfitandtrend · 2 years

Text

[ad_1] As POPSUGAR editors, we independently select and write about stuff we love and think you'll like too. If you buy a product we have recommended, we may receive affiliate commission, which in turn supports our work. Fashion and fitness go together seamlessly, whether you're picking out a co-ord set for a Peloton ride or pairing a sports bra and bike shorts with 6-inch platform heels. Peloton instructor Olivia Amato does a little bit of both, leading classes in one-shoulder crop tops and tie-dye leggings. In fact, she's just as famous for hosting classes for Tread, Bike, or Smart Camera owners — as she is for posting Y2K-inspired outfits on Instagram. "The more you walk in them, the better you get at it." The 31-year-old athlete, who calls her aesthetic "street style meets trendy and glam," is known for outfits that range from miniskirts and crop tops to bustiers and jeans, usually accessorized with those viral Versace Medusa platforms. She rarely hits the streets in a shoe with less than a two or three-inch sole, mixing in edgy boots by Dr. Martens and Prada, slides by Gucci, and sneakers that add height from Puma. "I don't have a background in fashion but it was always a big part of my life as my mom's love for shopping, shoes, and bags was passed down to me very early on," she tells POPSUGAR via email. "Growing up, when it was time to go shopping, I knew exactly what I was looking for. Even though I cringe at some of those choices now, I had an idea and always committed to it, even if that meant altering or changing the style of whatever it was." Amato maintains that as Peloton's resident fashion enthusiast, she is often asked for styling advice by teammates, many of whom have celebrity-level followings on social media (Amato and Jess Sims boast nearly 500,000, while vice president Robin Arzón and cycling director Cody Rigsby hover around one million). "I sent Emma Lovewell a bag recommendation recently and she's been rocking it so well," she says. Image Source: Jennifer Wagley She also has sound advice for stepping out in those iconic Versace pumps. Popularized by stars like Ariana Grande and Dua Lipa, the shoes feature an embellished ankle strap and a 6-inch block heel adorned with a Medusa charm. To walk in the popular platforms without tripping, Amato recommends practice above all else. "The more you walk in them, the better you get at it," she says casually, as if she's coaching a HIIT class. Out of all the brands she's tried, she says Versace's iteration is the most comfortable. "They are heavy, but besides that, they are comfortable to wear all night, even standing and walking. Platform shoes have always been my favorite from the first time I saw them on the Spice Girls." Ahead, Amato styles the viral Versace platforms four ways in an exclusive shoot for POPSUGAR. Scroll on to see the photos and shop a few pairs in her favorite colors. window.fbAsyncInit = function() FB.init( appId : '175338224756', status : true, // check login status xfbml : true, // parse XFBML version : 'v8.0' ); ONSUGAR.Event.fire('fb:loaded'); ; // Load the SDK Asynchronously (function(d) var id = 'facebook-jssdk'; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; if (typeof scriptsList !== "undefined") scriptsList.push('src': 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/sdk.js', 'attrs': 'id':id, 'async': true); (document)); [ad_2] Source link

#FASHIONSTUDIO

0 notes

mikeconphoto · 2 years

Text

"(NSFW) BODY PAINT SHOOT BTS" - BY MIKECON PHOTOGRAPHY

The best advice I can ever give anyone is to just be prepared, and communicate heavily with your photographer; especially me. To me, a lack of constant communication is a recipe for disaster, and sometimes disrespectful, because it shows that you aren’t focused on your investment, but more importantly OUR time. As I stated in my last blog titled, “Leap Of Faith”, people tend to let fear overcome them, and I have to ensure that we achieve success.

With all that being said, I finally broke down and decided to open up my playbook on one of my all-time favorite photo shoots. As you can see from all of my previous blogs and postings on social media, I NEVER share my Behind The Scenes (BTS) material because I honestly don’t like being filmed, and I always believe that if someone wants to learn how you do things, they’d pay you for your time. This photo shoot like many needed a lot of coordination because it involved more than just myself and my client. We had to have Body-painter Alisia Silliman (@a.vanlang_couture on Instagram) , and unlike a regular makeup artist, Alisia had to perform a miracle to transform Shannon into the “Disco Ball” concept we dreamt up. If you look, I added videos, and I had to make them 18+ for YouTube because there may or may not be some nudity, and I’m not one for all the drama about a nipple showing, or you getting fired from your job because someone saw a glimpse of a sparkly vulva from my client.

Now I know a lot of you have seen, “body-paint” shoots before, as have I. Most of them I’ve seen have been pretty good. Some of the lighting and shooting techniques have been done, over and over again, and again, so I wanted to just have our shoot look like my own creative technique, and not shoot it with a shallow dept of field. Believe me, that was all in my first paragraph, of the first conversation I had with Shannon. Seeing everyone shooting the same style, or technique just gets lame, and I personally, and professionally do not desire to have my work look like someone/everyone else’s. Hopefully all of this creativity will inspire someone to make some art and remember to, “Go against the grain”.

As far as camera settings, they varied during this shoot, but here’s what I had them set at for a majority of the shoot: Camera: Nikon D800 Lens: 85mm F/1.4 Settings for Lens: ISO: 100, 1/200 sec, F/14-16 (Varied during shoot to give it a little more mood.)

0 notes

salmonskinrolltf · 2 years

Text

Shower Scene

A transformation story inspired by Scream 2022. Contains no spoilers for the ending of the film!

While jogging around the neighborhood, Wes’s phone started to ring. He sat at a nearby picnic table and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Is this Wes Hicks?”

“Yes, who’s this?”

“Oh, you know exactly who this is…”

A chill went up Wes’ spine as he recognized the voice. Ghostface! The killer who had been terrorizing him and his friends.

“Let me guess… You want to know what my favorite scary movie is?”

“Not exactly. See, I have a little proposition for you, Wes.”

“If you think I’m working with you, you’re crazier than you sound.”

“No, no, boy. I don’t need the help,” the menacing voice intoned. “Here’s the thing. You’re on my hit list. I’m targeting teens related to people involved in the original killings, and your mom was around during the Roberts killings in 2011. So that would mean you’re next.”

Wes frowned. “And you’re warning me why?”

“You’re a cute guy, Wes. I wouldn’t want to have to rip you apart. Here's your question: What if I could offer you a way out?”

“A way out how?”

“What if you weren’t related to Sheriff Hicks? What if you weren’t born in Woodsboro in the 90’s? You’d be safe. Would you like that?”

“Well yeah, of course, but I don’t see how-“

“A yes was all I needed, Wes. Thanks for playing.”

Ghostface hung up and Wes felt a zap of electricity shoot through his hand, sending a tingling feeling through the rest of his body. He stared at his phone in confusion. Well, THAT wasn’t anything like any of the other calls his friends had gotten.

As he jogged home, he thought over what Ghostface had offered him. Sure, it would be nice if he wasn’t on the chopping block, but he wouldn’t want to be away from his friends or his mom. He shook his head. He was being stupid. It’s not like that offer was a real thing anyway. Making sure to deadbolt the front door when he got home, he headed upstairs, stripped off his sweaty clothes, revealing his skinny and hairless body, and hopped in the shower.

He saw a flash of black in the reflection of the shower door and did a quick double take to make sure no cloaked figure with a mask and a knife was lurking behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief, failing to notice that what he had registered subconsciously as movement was actually a small patch of dark black hair growing from the center of his chest.

As he turned on the shower and let the water run over his body, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. His chest tickled a little as the patch of hair began to spread, sending a light dusting across his pecs in either direction, some small tendrils even drifting up toward his neck. As he breathed he sucked in his stomach, and it never expanded back out, the skin rippling as muscle bubbled underneath. He began soaping up his chest, and noticed the extra movement of the wet hairs trailing along with his fingers. What the -

He opened his eyes to see the brand new hairs gracing his torso. And below his chest stood a tight six pack that barreled out his abdomen. He almost screamed, but for some reason the sight of his new hair and muscle made his dick stand to attention, throbbing so hard it seemed like it had grown an extra inch. Or even two. As the blood rushed downward, all he could think about was how horny he was, and his new fur slipped entirely from his mind.

He slithered one hand down his body and made a tight fist around his cock, pumping back and forth while thinking of his crush, Tara Carpenter. He’d had a crush on her since grade school. Her dark hair, her thick lashes, her sculpted pecs with that dusting of fuzz…

Wait, what?

He realized his mental image of Tara had been replaced with one of his other friend, Chad Meeks-Martin. When had that happened? Had he been thinking of him the whole time? And why was his dick still rock hard, straining into his hand as he thought of Chad's most recent Instagram photo and the way his chest hair and tattoo poked out of his shirt collar?

Fuck! His dick jolted with pleasure and he released it with a start. No, no, no. This was too weird. He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, reaching for his phone and heading to his room as quickly as possible. He needed to get a grip on himself! He didn’t notice that his iPhone felt weirdly bulky in his hand, like it was a model from a couple years earlier.

Once he got dressed, he decided a good long drive might clear his mind. He headed out to the driveway, where his trusty, beat-up 1992 sedan waited for him. He noticed it looked particularly clean this morning. And didn’t there used to be a patch of rust on the roof? Whatever. He needed out. He decided to drive to Tara’s house and see if she needed anything. Yeah, that was the move. Chad would appreciate- No, not Chad. He was going to CHAD’S house. Yeah, that’s where he was going. He wasn’t sure why he’d already started heading in the opposite direction. He flipped a U-turn and made for the Meeks-Martin residence.

As he drove, his whole head began to itch something fierce. Well, not the whole head. Just the top and bottom, not really anything in the middle, but the bookend effect was driving him crazy. He ran his fingers along his scalp, mussing up his hair in the process, not noticing that the strands were ever so slightly longer. He scratched the rough stubble on his chin, feeling the coarse speckles soften as hairs elongated from the follicles, seeming to be pulled out with the force of his scratching, until his entire face was coated in a downy chestnut beard.

Something felt wrong again. He looked at himself in the mirror and was startled to see the patchy beard that had grown in seemingly in seconds. How hadn’t he noticed that? But all thoughts were driven from his mind as his dick surged with pleasure once more. He grabbed his crotch, adjusting his junk in his jeans as he continued heading to Chad’s.

His mind became bleary and the world in front of him seemed to blur somewhat. Must be the stress. He tried to focus his eyes on the road in front of him so he didn’t crash. That’s why he didn’t notice his chest pumping up with muscle, straining at the baggy sweater he’d thrown on before leaving the house. His pants similarly strained against his quads and calves as they expanded like sausage casings being filled.

He scratched at his chest as thousands of tiny pinpricks of itchiness exploded across his torso, which distracted him from the continued itching on his chin as his beard filled out into a lush, thickly arranged carpet.

He was ultimately too busy trying to keep an eye on the car ahead of him, which seemed to keep changing color. And becoming an older and older model, too! It was weirding him out. He finally parked in front of the Meeks-Martin residence and stepped out, not noticing that his car was now shiny and new as if he’d just driven off the lot with it. He walked up to the front door, but stopped when he noticed that it was painted a completely different color. Did he have the wrong house? And was he… wearing the wrong clothes? With a start, he noticed he had on a plain white tee layered with a suave jacket that he certainly hadn’t been wearing earlier. Or at least, not that he remembered?

What had he done before driving over here? He remembered taking a shower. What had he done before that? Watched an episode of Cheers, yes! He remembered laughing at something or other that Sam had said. And ogling the pecs on a particularly built guest star playing a delivery boy. And then he’d been on the phone and accidentally knocked the TV off the counter with the cord. Before that was still fuzzy, but he didn’t need to bother remembering right now. All he needed to do was remember what he was doing HERE. Oh yes of course, the photo shoot. He knocked on the door. While he waited, he scratched at his chest, which was still feeling weirdly tingly. A man in a leather vest answered the door with a suspicious glint in his eyes.

He scowled at a clipboard. “Name?”

Wes smiled. “Wes. Wes Dalton.”

“Yup, there you are. Come on in, it’s the third door on the left.”

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

Sheriff Judy Hicks was looking through a locker full of contraband that had been confiscated from various high school students over the years. Ghostface had just given her a particularly puzzling call, saying that he was “remaking more than just Stab,” and she wanted to follow up on her suspicions that the killer was one of the local teens.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for, but she sighed as she pawed through numerous cherry bombs. She’d always wanted to have a kid of her own, but at least she didn’t have to worry about dealing with a high schooler in the house.

She pulled out an ancient gay porno mag that must have been confiscated in the 90’s. She checked the date. Yup, 1992. She looked at the cover model with a start. She had no reason to know who some 90’s porno model named Wes Dalton was, but he looked terribly familiar for some reason.

Underneath the magazine she found an old Colt calendar from eight years after that. She was surprised to see it featured the exact same model. Wes had clearly filled out, and his blonde tips were more subdued, way less 90’s. It was weird seeing a man age before her eyes like that. She found herself wondering what the model was up to these days, but shook her head and returned to the task at hand.

Remaking more than just Stab… What could that possibly mean?

#Scream 5 #Scream #Scream 2022 #Dylan Minnette #Celebrity #Fanfiction #Hairy #Beard

381 notes · View notes

scmg11 · 2 years

Note

Hey, can you write something about Hailee x actress reader um wich everybody KNOWS they have something but they want to keep It private, but are always saying cute and lovely things about each other um Interviews? Thank u 💗

HAILEE STEINFELD x READER

LOVING WORDS

A/N: HELLO PEOPLE! Sorry for taking so long on answering your requests but college is hard and I had a few ideas that I wanted to write about first. But here we are! Enjoy!

Sending love ❤️

Summary: Hailee and Y/N are dating and even if everyone knows about their relationship, they try to keep it private as much as possible, but these two lovebirds can’t stop gushing about each other.

Warnings: none, just pure fluff.

Word count: 1564 words.

"Everybody, make some noise for Y/N Y/L/N!" Jimmy screamed at the audience as the curtain opened and the girl walked out and onto the stage wearing a nice, black dress that was enhancing her lean figure while waving at the clapping audience enthusiastically, then hugging Jimmy tightly and let him lead her on the chair she was going to occupy, right beside his desk.

"It’s always good coming here!" Y/N spoke up after the crowd calmed down and grinned at Jimmy brightly.

"It’s a pleasure to have you here! It’s been so long!"

"Oh yes! I’ve been so busy promoting my new movie! This last couple of months were pretty hectic to say the least." Y/N grimaced comically before letting a shiny smile take over her features.

"Yeah! You just got back from London to promote your upcoming movie on the European press tour! How was that?"

Jimmy asked her a few questions about her new movie, about her crazy schedule, some upcoming project and finally her time on set. "I once got in trouble because I completely overslept and missed the morning shooting but since I’m the main character, they couldn’t fire me-" Y/N quipped in a ‘duh’ tone and winked towards the host, who chuckled at her joke alongside the audience while clapping his hands amused, "but yeah I felt so so bad that from that day on I showed up 10 minutes earlier."

"Did your co-stars made fun of you for oversleeping?" Jimmy smirked knowingly, Y/N knowing really well the host was dying to ask a question about her cast members, one in particular, and played dumb with a small, sly smile on her lips.

"Of course! It was the inside joke of the entire cast and the entire crew!"

"I saw Hailee’s Instagram story months ago where she pranked you with 10 alarm clocks ringing while you were sleeping." Jimmy was having troubles in finishing her sentence due to his giggles getting louder, a clip of that said story playing for the audience to see, laughing harder pointing at the screen.

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly at that memory and smiled in fake annoyance at her girlfriend’s prank, "she got me good that day. I was so lost when I woke up to the sound of 10 alarm clocks ringing 3 hours before my make up call. Here-“ She pointed at the screen, grinning brightly as she tried to talk while giggling softly, “you can see the confusion, the- the disorientation before my eyes focused on her laughing her ass off.” She laughed loudly before rolling her eyes and shaking her head in fond exasperation, “I wanted to get her back or at least stay mad at her, but that cute face got her away." Y/N pointed out to the screen showing a photo of them smiling on set on that same day.

"How was working with her?"

"Amazing. She is a great inspiration. Watching her act so effortlessly is mind-blowing. She always gives her all into a scene and it’s really inspiring." She smiled brightly, “and she is so nice, everyone on the crew was always in a better mood when she was around. We got along pretty well and pretty quickly and I’m so glad of that. I don’t even want to think about enduring all those hard working months without her by my side.”

"Okay let’s do word association."

"Okay, let’s do this." Hailee clapped her hands enthusiastically and grinned widely at the host.

"I’ll say the name of one of your co-stars and you have to tell me the first 3 words that comes into your mind."

Hailee nodded and started the game. They were few names of people she worked with in when she heard her girlfriend’s name, an instant smile forming on her lips, "Y/N Y/L/N."

"Hard-worker. Goofus. Incredibly talented. Yes incredibly talented as in one word." Hailee joked with a small chuckle, causing everyone in the room to laugh alongside her.

"Your new movie with her just got out. It’s amazing."

"I have to be honest, it’s one of the best project I’ve ever worked on. The cast and the crew were spectacular. I had a lot of fun and I learned from everyone each single day."

"How was working with Y/N? She’s one of the most talked actress in the industry, what’s her deal?"

"She is the most caring person I’ve ever seen. I remember one day, a fan got in trouble with security. We were shooting in a really reserved area, so no one was allowed except for cast and crew. But between two takes she went to say hi to that teenage girl and walked her out of the set. It was the most heartwarming thing I’ve ever seen."

“We saw all the posts and stories you shared on Instagram.”

“It was the best way to interact with our fans. I don’t usually post a lot of things on Instagram, but it was hard not to when you have a co-star that is so easy prank on.”

“You got along pretty well.”

“Yes, like a said she is a really nice and caring person. I was terrified my first day on set but she eased my nerves instantly, walking us around the set to take a tour before our first table read. And since then we were attached to the hip. We started rehearsing in our trailers, we stayed behind the cameras when the other had a scene to shoot, we cheered each other up when we were missing our families and we were always goofing around.”

“It’s really good it hear it.”

“Yeah, I’m so glad we found each other.”

"Ellen I swear to god that if you scare me, I’m never coming back." Y/N walked out of the backstage, waving at the audience, stating in lieu of a greeting to the host in a worried tone as she sat down on the chair, looking around suspiciously to detect any potential threat, causing Ellen and the crowd to erupt in a loud laugh.

"Don’t worry. Last time you were here was enough to entertain the world forever." Ellen laughed when a clip of Y/N jumping up and screaming in fright when Ellen scared her last year appeared on the screen behind them.

"I hate that clip." Y/N regarded Ellen with an unamused face and with a murderous glare before side-eyeing the video with the same expression.

"So, let’s talk about the movie!" Ellen spoke up when the crowd calmed down and everyone sat down, "it was a success!"

Y/N answered to a lot of questions Ellen asked her, talking about the movie mostly, enjoying her time with the hilarious host and the welcoming audience. "Hailee was a rock during that time. When we were nearing the wrapping time of the movie, I was really stressed, I had problems sleeping and I was overall exhausted and she stayed by my side all along. Well we pretty much supported each other up, always ready to crack a joke at the worst times.” She laughed softly and shook her head at the wonderful memories she had of and with her girlfriend, “I’m really thankful fo-"

While Y/N was pretty much gushing about how much she loves Hailee, the brunette was tiptoeing silently behind her, lifting her pointer finger up to shush the audience then settling behind her girlfriend and screaming loudly as she touched her shoulders, “Y/N!”

“HOLY SHIT!” Y/N jumped in fright and screamed loudly, turning around and finding her girlfriend laughing her ass off, crouched down on her knees with her head hung down. “You’re a fucking asshole!” Y/N reprimanded her girlfriend and slapped her shoulder hard before pushing her away when Hailee got up to hug her tightly, Ellen still laughing alongside the audience with tears running down her cheeks.

“Ohw c’mon, it was amazingly hilarious!”

“For you! I almost peed my pants!” Y/N pouted and crossed her arms, Hailee sliding her arms around her and hugging her tightly, still giggling softly. “I can’t believe I was talking highly of you to Ellen! I take that back, she is a dick.” She looked at the still laughing host before looking at the crown with her eyebrows furrowed together and her pout still present on her lips.

“Ohw, no.” Hailee awed while laughing and tightened her grip on her girlfriend, leaning her head back to stare at Y/N softly, “I’m sorry-“ Hailee bit on her bottom lip hard to stop her from laughing while fighting against a smile to form on her face to look into her girlfriend’s Y/E/C eyes with a serious expression, but Y/N arching her right eyebrow up in challenge and an unamused expression on cracked Hailee’s façade and her face contorted into a bright smile while a loud chuckle left her lips. “Okay, I’m not 100% sorry. Can you forgive me tho?” Hailee pouted cutely and put on her best puppy dog eyes, smiling in victory when Y/N’s left corner of her lips lifted up slowly.

“Only because you’re cute!” Y/N pointed her finger at her in warning before hugging her back when her girlfriend resumed their strong embrace. During their hilarious banter a crew member replaced her chair with a small couch and when the two actresses pulled away from the hug, Ellen signaled them to take a seat to continue the interview.

374 notes · View notes

fourseasonsfigs · 10 months

Text

Bazaar - Hiding from Daipai

I dearly love each and every Bazaar photo shoot fig set I have - there is no limit to the number I would buy! So imagine my delight when a clever fig maker decided to immortalize this (technically) off-camera moment!

The inspiration comes from a video taken by a very enterprising daipai. A daipai, if you're not familiar with the term - and I wasn't either, until this fandom - is basically paparazzi for hire. They will follow celebrities to get pictures of them to sell, and also will sell their picture-taking services to fan sites.

Here, they were sneaking shots of Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun. Gong Jun is famously eagle eyed for catching daipai and fan photographers, wherever they are hidden, but this time Zhehan spots the photographer first, since he is facing towards them. Gong Jun is posing for the camera in the exact opposite direction.

This fades out at the end, but I've seen a longer version of this at one point too. Junjun wasn't very happy with this daipai - he looked away very pointedly. It's not easy being a celebrity, no matter what anyone says!

I wasn't sure if the balcony railing would be sent in a different box or how they would do that, but it was sized to fit in one of the boxes.

Here they are! Zhehan's fan isn't removable - it came that way. Neither is Junjun's, for that matter.

Paparazzi certainly aren't loved for the way they invade people's privacy, so the truly epic frown on Junjun's face is fantastic. You know I like smiling figs, but this is just so perfect here. I love it!

I love, love, love the blue streak in Zhehan's hair. His whole Bazaar hair style, for that matter. And Zhehan did too, given that he set a picture from the shoot as his Instagram pic. I also love the moon symbol on Junjun's shirt, which echos the complementary star on Zhehan's. You can't see the star yet, but you will as we rotate around!

Neither of them would stand on their own at all. I got a bunch of figs in this ocean shipment, and I swear a good half of them don't stand! The fig standees are pretty essential, really.

Ahaha, it's been a while, but you can see we are back to the typical Zhehan and Gong Jun fig proportions. Zhehan curvy, Junjun slim.

Love Zhehan's gold studded belt here!

Zhehan's hair is really my favorite in this style.

Look at it, the ponytail is so cute!

There's Zhehan's star on his chest! It's a little hard to see, but it's there.

The choice to put Junjun in fingerless gloves was masterful. I know they're a bit hard to see in the video, but there's these big chunky buckles at the wrist which are very cool. Junjun's hands are very elegant in the black leather - very long and beautiful, and the heavy buckles both highlight and complement how they look.

And we're back around, this time with the railing! Junjun sure looks a little like he's contemplating smacking someone in the head with the fan, doesn't he?

As you can see here, the fig stands fit perfectly underneath it with no problem at all. Looks a little silly, but there's nothing to be done at all about it, since they won't stand up otherwise.

Well. I mean, I know exactly what I'm going to do about it, which is to order a long and thin single standee, and stick them both to it, and have it slightly more hidden behind the rail.

Junjun makes me laugh - his pose with the fan really does look like he's thinking some thoughts!

Every angle of that ponytail is adorable!

As you saw from the earlier unboxing photo, the set came with a bonus add-on of a magnet. My file cabinet is half full on one side now from all my magnets!

The delightful matching artwork on the boxes. I get plain white boxes so much with the resin figs that it's always nice to get the PVC ones for the fancier boxes!

Material: PVC

Fig Count: 431

Scene Count: 29 (I don't think a balcony rail counts)

Rating: Two fans are better than one!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

#junzhe #zhang zhehan #gong jun #word of honor cast #woh cast #figthusiast

12 notes · View notes

lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

Body Shots (Pierre Gasly)

Inspired by (and beta read) by the amazing @limp-wrist-max thank you Mea!

Masterlist

Word count: 3.5k

Recommended song: “Lucky You” by Sim Dane

Vacationing in Milan had its perks. Fine dining, luxury stores that were prime for window shopping, and the proximity to your best friend, to name a few.

When you'd touched down in Milan you had had no intentions of visiting Pierre. You had just finished your exams for your summer class and had a week before the next semester started up, so you had simply booked the cheapest ticket and boarded a plane.

The intent had been to have some good wine, good food and unwind. Pierre saw your Instagram story minutes after you posted it and recognized the bakery you stopped at for lunch. And once he found out you were only a few minutes away from that weekend's grand prix, he had ideas that didn't involve you reading a novel all day.

Pierre had insisted that a last minute cancelation by a family friend had left a paddock pass unclaimed and had suggested you take it.

"You're my best friend, it'll be fun to have you experience a weekend through my eyes for once instead of sitting in the stands. Come visit me."

Something in the inflection of his voice made the simple request rub you raw. He missed you. It had been months since your last get together and you couldn't blame him. The last year had been rough for him and he rarely had anyone physically at his side to help him through it.

Inviting you instead of one of his parents was about more than your current proximity to the track. He hadn't missed a beat in asking you, not hesitating to consider anyone else being with him this weekend.

Your stomach had turned as you climbed in a cab Sunday morning, not out of fear of something going wrong but because of the nagging feeling that something was about to change.

You'd known Pierre since you were kids. Your brother had raced in karting before pursuing another dream, but in the few short years you'd hung around European tracks you had managed to forge a bond with one of your brother's rivals. That friendship carried on regardless of the distance that separated you, kept alive by visits in the off season and once a year trips to the racetrack at Silverstone.

Pierre met you at the gates and you had barely seen him since.

A decent qualifying session saw the Frenchman start P10 on Sunday's race. He didn't hide the fact that he was disappointed, but come time for his final meeting with the team you'd never guess he was anything but ecstatic.

You had to be conscious about your mouth hanging open when Pierre stepped into the garage in his fireproofs with his suit half undone. The tuft of blond hair peeking through his backwards cap floats on an invisible breeze and he bounces on his toes. His brow furrows when he is handed a data sheet, listening intently to what the engineer points out.

Butterflies riot in your stomach when Pierre catches you staring and winks. You pray he writes the blush on your cheeks off as the heat and he must, because he raises his eyebrows and flexes a bit.

You laugh to cover the way you want to do nothing but strip him out of that tight fitted white shirt. Your crush was getting out of hand. Pierre's shameless, friendly flirting only escalated matters.

You told yourself it was nothing. He was like this with every girl he met, making a fool of himself to earn a laugh. You were no different, except maybe that you were a constant where most other women only got to enjoy his playful personality for a short time.

You're treated to a few long minutes of watching Pierre prep to climb into the car before he's heading out on track to line up at the grid.

The race starts off fine, Pierre's pace is better than expected. One of the Haas's breaks down at the pit entry and Pierre's strategist decides to bring him in for a fresh set of tires. A kiss seems like the proper reward for their stroke of brilliance, which affords Pierre the advantage when the pits close soon after.

Restarting on lap 28 is nail biting. Hamilton, Stroll, and Pierre make up the podium places. The entire garage gasps when Stroll goes wide at turn four. Hamilton serves his penalty and Pierre inherits the lead. Sainz jumps on the opportunity to attack.

Pierre defends brilliantly until the final lap. The team erupts when he crosses the line first, bringing home the win.

Red, white and green confetti sticks to his skin as he sprays the champagne over all of you. In the heat of it all, Pierre sits on that top step and shakes his head. You already know that the photos of him being snapped from all angles will be gorgeous, the sun shining down on the first French grand prix winner in decades.

A legend in the minds of his people and in yours.

You could scarcely believe it yourself. Your best friend had finally, after years of being pushed down, won a grand prix at the temple of speed. Red Bull had been wrong, just as you'd insisted when Pierre cried over losing his seat and his friend in one weekend. But god, did Pierre rise above it all.

Pierre catches your gaze just before he leaves the podium. A lifetime of emotion swirls around him like an enigma, begging you to find out what it was hiding. Your wave is barely more than a lift of your hand but Pierre notes it nonetheless, tipping his trophy in your direction.

You wait patiently on the sidelines as Pierre poses for pictures with his team on and off the track. His attention constantly falls on you, his grin widening each time he sees you tucked under the arm of an enthusiastic mechanic or crew member. Alpha Tauri was a family and you were an honorary member thanks to your connection to their driver.

An action packed hour of cameras passes before Pierre is able to break away. As soon as he's given the go ahead he passes his trophy off and marching to you. You're both practically running by the time you meet in the middle. You crash into him and he lifts you off your feet in a crushing hug.

"You did it," you whisper, overwhelmed by his success now that you've gotten the chance to celebrate with him. "I'm so proud of you."

Pierre laughs as he sets you on your feet. His smile is wider than you've ever seen it and you're sure his cheeks must be sore.

"Wish they allowed us to bring a friend up there," Pierre says softly, a smile melting into a sly smirk. "Seeing you doused in champagne is an image I wouldn't forget."

You shake your head, caught up in his ceaseless flirting. He had no idea that his honeyed words and gentle touches lit something inside of you, rattling your brain and making it impossible to form a coherent sentence. Instead you snatch the black and gold Pirelli cap off his head and place it on your own, earning you a peal of laughter.

"Looks better on you anyway." Pierre runs a hand through his sweaty, champagne doused hair, leaving bits sticking up at odd angles.

Someone calls Pierre's name, far enough away that there's no rush. Pierre's hands remain planted on your waist and yours stay wrapped around his neck. By the way his bright blue eyes bore into yours, you swear he's thinking the same thing you are.

"Thank you for believing in me," he murmurs, gaze falling to your lips.

"I knew it was just a matter of time," you tell him, inching up on your tiptoes. Tempted by his win, you want to ruin the best friendship you've ever had. You want to discover if the lips you spend far too much time dreaming about felt as soft as they looked. You want to know how it feels to be lost in Pierre, newly minted race winner, and find out just how he dealt with the adrenaline and euphoria of his incredible drive.

"Well done mate!"

Max Verstappen startles the two of you apart. You take a healthy step back and drop your gaze to the ground to hide your burning cheeks.

"Thanks." Pierre accepts the Dutchman's embrace and claps him on the back. "Sucks I didn't get to fight you for it."

"There will be more chances in the future. And I didn't expect to see you here, that's a nice surprise." Max knocks you with his shoulder, tipping you off balance. On instinct you latch onto Pierre's arm to steady yourself. You wait a heartbeat too long to remove your hand and both of you find anywhere to look but each other.

"So where's the party?" You ask, searching for a distraction from the way your palm still burns.

"Definitely not at Red Bull." Max shudders and you laugh because that's what you do when someone is being over dramatic. It rings hollow in your ears.

"I hear there's a few guys with adjoining rooms at the hotel who bought plenty of booze," Pierre says. "You and Dan wanna come by?"

"Is that really a question?" Max grins, already typing out a text as Pierre feeds him the details.

**********

"You should do body shots," Max suggests, which earns a roaring laugh from Daniel and a half hearted one from Pierre.

"I don't think so," Pierre says, "there's no one here I trust enough to let that happen."

"Not even your best friend?" Max gestures to you and shoots you a wink when Pierre glances over. "I think she's trustworthy."

"No thanks." Pierre holds up his plastic cup and salutes Max before draining it to the dregs.

Pierre's immediate refusal hurt more than it probably should have. You hadn't expected him to jump at the offer but having him shut the idea down so thoroughly hadn't been what you wanted either.

Max notes your pouty lower lip and speaks on your behalf. "Come on mate," Max insists. "You just won your first prix, live a little! It's not like you've got anything to lose, she's your best friend."

"That's exactly why-"

"Shut up, it would be fun! Wouldn't it?" Max says this last bit to you, a wild grin on his face.

Max expects you to turn red and object. That was his end goal. But what the Dutchman hadn't counted on was how drunk you already were on Pierre. On his smile. On his bright blue eyes, swirling in the aftermath of his unlikely triumph. And mostly on the not-so-sneaky way he glances at you every few minutes.

"Let's do it."

Pierre blinks, searching your face for any sign of distress. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah, why not?" You shrug, suddenly fearing that you'd read him wrong and he really was against this whole thing. "Unless you don't want to-"

"Get the vodka," Pierre interrupts, nodding to Max though his stare remains pinned on you. Pierre latches onto your wrist and drags you around the room until he finds a table long and sturdy enough for his liking.

"This a good height for you?"

The coffee table is low enough that you'd have to kneel. Luckily getting on your knees isn't something you'd mind doing for Pierre. You lick your lips without thinking. Pierre's pupils blow wide, black swallowing the swirling oceans of blue.

"Sure," is all you manage.

"Good." Apparently neither of you were able to focus on speech. You work together to clear the empty plastic cups and used napkins from the surface. Your hands brush when you both reach for the last cup and you just catch the way Pierre's breath hitches.

You and Pierre have danced this dance since you were teenagers. Each of you knows the steps by heart. The only difference is tonight neither of you were poised to bow out before the final lift.

"Beep beep, bitches!" You yank your hand away when Max's shout reaches you. Pierre's hand lingers in front of him, outstretched as if your palm remained grazing his thumb.

Max holds the bottle of vodka over his head as he wades through the crowd. "You're all about to be very, very entertained."

"Where's your chaperone?" You ask Max, searching for Daniel in the low lighting. You press your palm to your thigh, dissipating Pierre's lingering heat.

The Dutchman waves you off. "Went to get us more drinks. Pierre, isn't it kinda hard to do body shots if you're still fully clothed?"

"Who says I'm the one getting undressed?"

Max's grin dimples his flushed cheeks. "I mean you can ask her to take her shirt off in front of all these people if you want to."

"No," Pierre responds quickly. "Fine. I'll do it."

When Pierre strips off his shirt he gets more than a few whistles from men and women alike. That tended to happen when someone was built like a Greek fucking god, you supposed. Whoever voted for People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive" and decided on Michael B. Jordan had clearly never laid eyes on Pierre, with his bronzed skin, endless expanses of muscle, and brilliant cheshire grin.

Michael B. Jordan who?

Pierre hands the team branded shirt off and lays out on the table. He pillows an arm under his head, bare bicep flexed as he gets comfortable. Leaning in to kiss along the hard muscle was out of the question, however tempting it was.

Pierre looks up expectantly. "You coming?"

Holy shit, this was actually happening.

"Yeah, I'm coming." You sink to your knees and Pierre laughs.

"Up here." He pats his thigh with his free hand and beacons you forward. "Please."

Screw it, you've already thrown your friendship out the window. This night ended either in heartbreak or awkwardness, might as well get your money's worth.

A few whoops break out above the music. The bassline isn't the only thing thundering in your chest as you straddle Pierre's thighs, hands braced on his chest.

"Okay?" Pierre whispers for your ears only. You nod with what you hope is a charming smile.

"Alright move," Max says, shooing you back until you're resting on your haunches. Max flicks the cap off the bottle and you grab it to take a long sip.

Max gapes at you and you wipe a hand over your mouth. "Close your mouth, you'll catch flies."

Pierre's thighs tense beneath you in response to your bold declaration. Dozens of Pierre's friends and team members gather around. For all you care, Pierre is the only person in the room.

"Last chance to back out," Max warns. You're too busy tracking the drop of liquid that falls from the neck of the bottle to splash onto the crease of Pierre's abs to bother responding.

"Pour it out." Pierre's chest sinks with his demand, doing nothing but sparking your imagination, creating images of him heaving beneath you. You'd sell your soul to recreate the way you're currently poised above Pierre's hips with a little less clothing and no audience.

Max gives up hope on you replying and dribbles the alcohol up Pierre's abdomen, stopping just below his pecks.

"Have at 'er-"

Your tongue is on Pierre's skin before Max has finished his sentence. You feel the muscle tense beneath your tongue, going rigid at the first contact. The burn of the vodka doesn't even register as you lap it up, catching the drips that fall over his sides.

You aren't sure either of you is breathing. Salty sweat mingles with the sharpness of the alcohol, an afterthought barely worth mentioning.

Blame the liquid courage or blame the high from Pierre's win, but you were confident Pierre was enjoying this just as much as you.

Planting a hand on Pierre's hip, you steal a glance up at him to find him locked on you. You take that as permission to continue, dragging your tongue flat up his stomach and continuing well past where the vodka had been poured. Up between his pecks, over the curve of his throat that bobs beneath your tongue, over his chin until you meet his lips, already parted and waiting.

Neither of you pay the shouts cresting around you any heed. You've both waited too long for this, endured too many almosts and what ifs to let the opportunity slip through your fingers. Your sticky hands cradle Pierre's face, angling it in a way that's to your liking so you can explore more of his mouth. He tastes like whiskey and mint, the juxtaposition of hot and cold scattering your thoughts. One of Pierre's hands finds the nape of your neck when you gasp for air, refusing to let you end the moment.

And it's pure, unending bliss that floods your veins when he nips at your lower lip, swollen and surely reddened from his kiss. His thumb sweeps across the back of your neck while you both fight to catch the breath currently evading you.

Daydreams didn't hold a candle to the real thing. One taste and you were addicted, craving as much as Pierre was willing to give.

"Hey," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a stupidly gorgeous smile.

"That was nice," you tease, tangling your fingers in the silky blond strands of his hair. "I wouldn't be opposed to doing it again."

"Me too. Maybe somewhere where it's just us though. I wouldn't want to scandalize my team any further." You manage to steal another sweet peck before Max hauls you off Pierre.

"Fucking finally," Daniel says, clapping when you're upright again. "Do you know how long I've been trying to orchestrate this? The two of you really are dumber than a box of rocks. I can't believe all it took was Max suggesting body shots to get you two to kiss."

The arm that wraps around your waist feels right. Pierre hasn't hugged you like this before, with his chin resting on your shoulder and his nose nuzzling your neck, but it already feels like home.

Pierre ignores Max completely in favor of pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. "Why don't we go back to my room? I'll pour more alcohol on myself if that's what it takes to convince you."

You're just about to take him up on the offer when one of his team members taps his shoulder. He glances at them impatiently, which the man thankfully doesn't take personally.

"They want some photos with you holding your trophy," he explains, handing a shirt and the star shaped interpretation of the Italian flag to Pierre. "It will only take a few minutes, they promised not to keep you long."

Of course everyone knew exactly where your minds were. Sanity had long since left the premises, tangled up in crisp white sheets. Pierre's entire team and half the Red Bull garage had seen what had gone down while the prix winner was sprawled on that coffee table. There would be no chance of denying it in the morning.

And while you'd never imagined that the first time you'd kiss your best friend would be directly preceded by licking copious amounts of shitty liquor off his super-heated skin, now that you'd experienced it any other way seems forgettable.

Pierre sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I mean, I already have my trophy, but…" your stomach lurches when you realize he means you. Pierre catches the way your mouth hangs open and he shoots you a grin before accepting the real trophy.

"You carry it," he says, not giving you much of a choice as he thrusts it into your hands. "I'm occupied."

You're about to point out that his hands are, in fact, free and that the more likely reason for insisting you carry the trophy was his usual post-race laziness when he slings an arm around your shoulders and tucks you tight to his side.

"Is this okay?" Pierre asks when you involuntarily stiffen. God, it was more than okay, it was perfect, it had just caught you by surprise. You'd only kissed him a handful of minutes ago and Pierre was already wrapped around your finger, smitten as if you'd been a couple for years.

"Yeah no, it's perfect. Simply lovely," you say quickly, stumbling over your words.

"Can I kiss you again?"

Your answer comes in the form of a hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. You prop the trophy on your hip and smile up at your race winner.

"You don't have to ask that ever again. My answer is always yes."

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly oneshot #pierre gasly x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 rpf #f1 #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fantasy #f1 rpf

261 notes · View notes

wonlouvre · 3 years

Note

Yayyy i absolutely love your writing!!

I would like to request a Hoshi × gn!idol! Reader angst+fluff imagine where Soonyoung cheers/takes care of his reserved s/o who has been having a hard time and has opened up to him about it for the first time. S/o is someone who can't say no easily and because of that their workload had increased a lot. But in the end they can't hold themselves any longer and breaks down.

strength | k. sy.

pairing: hoshi x gn!idol reader genre: fluff, angst, then fluff again warnings: mentions of anxiety, physical and mental tiredness (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.8k+ (i honestly don’t even know anymore)

💌: thank you very much for requesting! i made some tweaks here and there and i hope you still like it! thank you for loving my writing as well :’( it really means a lot that <3 i hope you like this!

Soonyoung was aware that you’d be coming from Japan for your collaborative magazine photoshoot. He just didn’t know that you’d be going straight from the airport at four o’clock in the morning.

He thought he read your message wrong saying that you’re on your way to the assigned shooting location. As far as he’s concerned, the call time was at seven a.m. He had to do a double take while squinting his eyes over the brightness of his phone but when he saw another bubble pop out saying you’re already there, he immediately jumped off his bed to shower.

He misses you. You’ve been going in and out of the country because of promotions and the chances of getting to see you has been slim to none. If he ever meets with you, it will be short because either one of you has to go back to work or has to go back to bed because there is a flight to catch the next day. It’s obviously tough. But your relationship perseveres.

Soonyoung will do everything to make it work and you are together with him on that. So if it means he has to shower half-asleep and wear his boxers backwards just to see you, he’d never mind.

Your Japanese album tour started and ended successfully but work didn’t stop from there. You were just getting started. Before leaving the said country, you were fully booked for live television performances, interviews, variety shows and the like. It was exhausting but, it was an opportunity that you couldn’t miss out on for the world even if you wanted to.

Soonyoung is proud of you and he will always be. Heart eyes were formed whenever he got the chance to watch your performances whether it be from a paid livestream event or from kind fans sharing and uploading their videos or photos on Twitter or Instagram. He’s even more in love when it’s in person and he gets to watch your performance plus enjoy it with your never failing supportive fans.

However, Soonyoung is also worried because he knows you’re also tired. He knows how fulfilling it is to do what you love the most, but he’s no stranger to the physically and mentally tiring part of it. He wasn’t even surprised to catch you asleep on the couch when he arrived at your dressing room.

Your manager’s eyes brightened when they saw him, quickly standing up from the chair to give him a hug.

“They told me they just need a fifteen minute nap,” they whisper against Soonyoung’s shoulder as he hugs them back. “But we both know they need more than that.”

Soonyoung sadly smiles while his eyes never leave your curled form. He mutters a simple “I’ll take it from here” while your manager excuses themself to buy everyone breakfast.

It’s a challenge to take you into his arms without disturbing your sleep because he doesn’t want that from happening. He just wants to hold you for the remaining time without interruption from other people. He just wants to hold you and share this moment of calm before the lights and camera get into action later.

Soonyoung’s thankful you didn't, although he still felt your lips lightly ghost against his jaw, telling him that you know that he’s here. He brings your legs over his lap while he cradles your head close to his neck. He wishes to lay down, but the couch is too cramped for two bodies so he’d have to settle with this position. He guesses it’s fine with how you deeply inhale his scent and snuggle closer and closer, locking your arms around his waist with no intentions of letting go.

Just like you, he falls asleep, completely comfortable and content in finally having you in his arms again.

Your tangled bodies were shaken to wake up at least an hour later. Both of your managers have food in their hand, ready to energize the two of you up before moving forward with the hair and makeup. The agenda for today includes a photoshoot with several changes of outfit, a short shoot for an audio video presentation and lastly an interview or question and answer of some sort.

Your relationship has been publicly known for two years already. Some fans have been supportive while some have been angry. It’s nothing new and it’s nothing the two of you could care about at this point.

Countless projects have been offered to the two of you during the course of those two years whether it be a song or dance performance, a guesting on a famous variety show and even a three second cameo appearance on a drama. They’re all lovely offers and you would love to participate, but the two of you made a decision to keep the relationship private. Sure, you’ll accept it from time to time. But, it’s still very limited to one to two songs to sing or dance to together and some magazine photoshoots. Just like now.

By far, this is the third time the two of you would be featured on a magazine cover. Your respective publicists already know how to communicate to the publishing company your terms and conditions. Questions about your relationship are allowed, but to a certain number only. The rest will be about what’s mostly seen by fans and the rest of the public which is automatically your music.

The concept is not necessarily daringly romantic. After all, what you’re trying to promote here is the clothes. But your chemistry is maintained with a few fleeting touches here and there. In one shot, you two were holding hands and the other has his arm is loosely wrapped around your neck.

You and Soonyoung are careful to not get lost in each other’s eyes during the short breaks in between because the cameras were still rolling. Although, his soft touches on your hand and arm still lingered. On the other hand, you help him fix his hair whenever he gets excited and jumps from time to time. You could kiss him right now, but again, you want to be careful.

The shoot concluded faster than you thought and the next thing you know, the two of you are sitting side by side with a camera blinking red in front, ready to record the interview included in the contract.

The interview consisted of questions that’s nothing out of the ordinary. The magazine asked about your favorite go-to styles lately, your look inspirations, a little bit of this or that, your recent music releases or favorite music releases at the moment and of course something about your relationship that you're comfortable and willing enough to share.

But one particular question caught you off guard that you had to hold your tears and brave through the rest of the interview without showing any signs that you’re about to cry.

“How have you guys been lately, individually?”

“I’ve been great,” you quickly answer with a smile that didn’t even reach your eyes. The camera may not have noticed, but Soonyoung did. It took a lot of patience and restraint for your boyfriend to stop himself from cutting the interviewer off to ask you again how you really have been.

Everything that was in store for the two of you today ends and when the cameras are gone, you and Soonyoung hand in hand walk back to your dressing room. It’s a relief that this is the last project for the day and you’re glad you could get some rest for the coming week.

Your body slumps on the couch while the staff pack up. You puff out a breath before closing your eyes. You wish you could yell out how tired you are lately. Work piled up over the course of six months and you couldn’t have at least two days away from the makeup and flashing lights.

Soonyoung bites his lower lip as he settles beside you. He’s contemplating whether he should ask you now or later because he doesn’t want you to grow conscious and shut yourself away. He knows how brave and strong you are. But he also wants you to know that you can trust him and that if you ever need a shoulder to cry or at least lean on, his are more than welcoming.

“You okay, babe?” He asks in the quiet as the staff leaves one by one. “Anything bothering you?”

You surprise him by sitting up straight and opening your eyes, welling with tears. That makes him shoot up and instantly hug you close. “Oh baby.”

You finally cry and set free the tears that you’ve been locking deep within you. You thought you could brave through this pain and anxiety without having the need to shed any vulnerability. You thought this shall pass soon. You thought you could do this.

But here you are now letting go with sniffles and shaking shoulders as Soonyoung gently caresses the top of your head.

He hates to see you cry. But it’s only right to let you.

“I just feel like I’m going to miss out on everything if I turn down any project offered to me.”

Soonyoung pouts when he hears what’s been bothering you. It took a while for you to calm down and finally talk, but it’s okay. He doesn’t mind. He will never mind.

“I understand, honey,” he assures you and wipes your tear stained cheek. “And there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way.”

Your lips shake again and crying makes you want to hide. Without hesitation, you crawl to your boyfriend’s lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. Soonyoung doesn’t complain and just keeps you close, protective arms around your waist.

The dressing room is empty except for the two of you. The staff got the message once Soonyoung pleaded with them through his eyes to give you some time with him since you’re already done for the day.

“It’s also okay to work and work,” he continues, soothing hands rubbing against your back. “But at some point, it’s also okay to take a break for them.”

You pull away and rest your hands on his neck. “Even though I’m going to miss out?”

Soonyoung nods and leans his forehead against yours. “Yes and there’s also nothing wrong with that.”

“I seriously want to go on a trip with my family,” you say and sigh. “And of course, with you too.”

Soonyoung can’t help but giggle. “I’d love to. How about next month? Let’s go somewhere with your family or friends. Where do you want to go? What do you want to do?”

Your boyfriend’s enthusiasm puts a smile on your face and this time, the smile reaches your eyes. “Let’s go somewhere quiet first. I want to take a long nap before we proceed to do anything that needs an awake body.”

“You got it, babe,” Soonyoung promises and kisses your lips.

169 notes · View notes