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stesierra · 7 months

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I'm writing a new book about angels and demons and the humans who have to deal with them because I want to and nobody can stop me. Here's the first chapter, which is pretty short. I have written this just now on my phone so live with any typos. There's no WIP intro. I haven't added to my Writeblr intro. I do what I want.

Let me know if I should write the rest of the book.

The Giant's Gamble

Chapter 1

Kirjath slipped through the ajar side door, contorting like a reed in a hurricane to clear the splintered doorframe. The nightclub music throbbed ahead of him, so loud he felt the vibration in his breastbone. To angelic ears, it was about as melodic as a jackhammer accompanying an angry toddler. But that didn’t matter. He wasn’t here to enjoy himself. Did he ever enjoy himself, really?

In the gloomy light, lovely young humans sauntered out of his way, half of them making cow eyes at him. The other half, mostly young men, did their best to puff themselves up, like offended cats. But the tallest of them didn't reach his shoulder.

He brushed past them all with a weary smile and pushed deeper into the club. Not towards the bar, which lay under a web of pipes that crawled across the unfinished ceiling like tentacles of some cosmic horror. Not towards the dance floor, where people who had, from his perspective, been born yesterday gyrated and swayed. No, his destination was at the back, through a door marked employees only. Locked, of course. As if it mattered.

With a twist of the wrist, he broke the doorknob off. It took only a second to dismantle the whole lock apparatus and squish himself through the too-small space. Nobody noticed, not with the music thumping overtime.

A dank narrow hallway greeted him on the other side, lit only by a bare bulb hanging from a frayed wire. It stank of black mold and piss. But at least he didn't have to look at the humans anymore. Kirjath hated places where humans tried to substitute alcohol for actual courage. And the music hurt his ears.

Down at the end of the hall, he found a crumbling stairwell leading down. Old leaks had scarred the cement with rusty water stains, as ugly as tear-stained mascara. No one had inspected this part of the building for decades. No doubt Camriel had ensured it. Well, he wouldn't be able to, after tonight.

He found his brother in the depth of his lair, sitting on a couch that had half-collapsed under his giant frame. Camriel wasn't actually his brother, for neither of them had ever been born. But the relationship was an appropriate shorthand.

The other grigori was staring up at a ceiling he'd plastered with pinups of anorexic teen girls. He looked almost skeletal himself, with legs so long the hems of his pants fell mid-knee. He stank of wine and too much cologne, the kind that claimed to be full of irresistible pheromones. His eyes were closed, but Kirjath couldn't tell if he was visiting the Intangible or just drunk.

“Camriel,” he said and drew his sword from thin air, which is where he kept it. People looked at you funny if you wore as sword these days. Especially one long enough for a giant.

The other angel opened bloodshot eyes and stared up at him. “Kirjath? Have you come to kill me?”

He nodded. Obviously so.

Camriel sat up, and the couch collapsed the rest of the way with a whump. “Why this time?”

This was obvious, too, but Kirjath answered, because he knew Camriel loved to live in denial. “You've been siring children. Triplets, all so big they had to be cut from their mother's belly. All unnaturally beautiful and strong.”

Camriel scoffed and scrambled to his feet from the ruins of the couch. “C-sections are routine now. Doesn't even kill the mother. What does it matter?”

“Nephilim are never routine,” Kirjath said. “Even if the mother survives.”

“Oh, like the modern world can't use a few more men of renown? They can get basketball scholarships. Life will be a cinch. Really, they should thank me.”

“Who should? The children you abandoned?” His grip tightened on his sword.

Camriel tossed his long hair over his shoulder. If he'd ever tried to comb it, the comb was probably still lost somewhere in there. “Heaven should thank me, for improving the gene pool.”

Kirjath nodded and offered his brother his most disappointed look. And then he stepped forward and rammed his sword through his brother's stomach.

“Ow! Fuck!” Camriel said, curling around the steel that had split his intestines. “What the fuck is your problem?”

Kirjath kicked his feet out from under him and ripped the blade loose, spraying the mildewed carpet with gore. He stood over his dying brother and said, “We were exiled. Because you couldn't stop breeding. Because you couldn't leave the humans alone.”

“It wasn't just me,” Camriel said, his tone utterly offended.

“The grigori,” Kirjath snarled. “Because they wouldn't stop. Because none of you would. And now look what’s become of us. I'm not going to let you keep breaking the law. Not that one. The only one that matters.”

“What are you, heaven’s watchdog?” Camriel spat. “They threw you out too, Kirjath! They threw us all out! So what if I broke their laws? Who the fuck cares?”

“I care,” Kirjath said. He lifted his sword.

Blood ran down Camriel’s lips and pooled in the hollow of his throat. “You think you're better than me?” he gurgled. “Better than the rest of us? Because you never knocked up some girl? You're not. Because you--”

Kirjath swung. And his brother's head rolled away, lips silenced, as the irony stink of blood overwhelmed the little room where his brother had spent his sad little life.

He'd be back, but not right away. And by the time he made his way back to the Tangible, perhaps he would have learned his lesson.

He turned his back on the headless body, dismissing his sword back to nowhere from whence it had come. And came face to face with a young woman. She stood in the doorway with a delighted look on her face, and she wore the sigil of Lilith at her throat.

“You killed him,” she said. “How wonderful.”

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Just chapters and snippets

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#The Giant's Gamble #new wip #writeblr #writing #MORE BOOKS

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zymzalchemy · 7 months

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whatsonmedia · 2 years

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Wednesday Wisdom- Top Book Collection of the Week!

Black people have always been discriminated throughout the world for their colour and ethnicity. There is no perfect time to honour them for their struggles, stories and journey of life. This month is the Black History Month- which marks the history of their ethnicity and their struggles for identity and acceptance in the society. To celebrate their struggle, many new books by Black authors are being released. Books provide us solace, joy, and a way to escape reality. But for Black people the reality itself is presented through medium of pen and paper. With "Black Live Matter" movement gaining momentum worldwide against the atrocities committed against them. WhatsOn brings some of the top books by Black authors which you can add to your collections. What the Fireflies Knew by Kai Harris*** what the fireflies knew In this heartfelt portrayal of Black girlhood, KB's world is turned upside down when her father dies of an overdose. Leaving a mountain of debt behind. As a result, KB's mother drops her and her teenage sister to their grandfather. Over the summer, KB has trouble making friends and staying connected with her sister. As she tries to bring her family together before school starts. As she tries to bring her family together, she's forced to move from her childish perception into harsh realities. Kai Harris's coming-of-age debut captures all the nuance and vulnerability of growing up Black and poor in America. On Rotation By Shirlene Obuobi *** on Rotation The novel explores the struggles and expectations of the immigrant experience, from the perspective of Angie Appiah. She is the eldest daughter of a Ghanian household who has been a success her whole life. However, when she fails a major medical school exam and her boyfriend breaks up with her, that her life get unraveled. The Accidental Pinup by Danielle Jackson**** the accidental pinup Cassie is a plus-size Black photographer who is offered the opportunity to shoot and direct a nationwide campaign aimed at empowering plus-size body types. After some minor incidents occur, she ends up a model instead of a photographer. Which would be just fine, if she wasn't working with her competitor, fellow photographer Reid Montgomery. But enemies can turn to lovers, and the romance that blossoms is irresistible. How to Live Without You by Sarah Everett**** how to live without you Emmy and Rose are sisters and best friends who separate when their parents get a divorce. Six years later, Rose disappears, and Em decides to pay a visit to her father in Ohio and look for her missing older sister. However, the longer she searches, the more she realizes how little she knew about Rose. This touching YA novel tackles family dynamics and the bond of Black sisterhood. Cafe Con Lychee by Emery Lee*** cafe Con Lychee Out-and-proud Theo and closeted Gabi are rival sons of competing family business. An Asian-American cafe and a Puerto Richan bakery, respectively. When a new fusion cafe threatens to destroy families' businesses and their dreams, they form an unlikely alliance running an underground coffee and boba shop at school. And of course, they must also navigate their growing feelings for one another. Read the full article

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rjhamster · 9 months

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New Vintage Pinup Inspired Designs!

Introducing our latest inked creations! Inspired by the timeless allure of the 40s pinup tattoos, these new designs embody the essence of seductive beauty and classic style. Each piece creatively captures the essence of traditional pinup tattoos, featuring stunning women that evoke an irresistible sense of confidence and empowerment. Step into a world where elegance meets rebellion, and embrace…

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javabachelor · 1 year

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We want to wish a swinging Happy Birthday today to the irresistible Iris Le’Mour! (Photo by Michael Sauer!) #bachelorpadmagazine #pinup #pinupgirl #nightcapedition #irislemour #michaelsauer @irislemour @sauer_productions https://www.instagram.com/p/CqExf_AuXrk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#bachelorpadmagazine #pinup #pinupgirl #nightcapedition #irislemour #michaelsauer

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sunmihyung-blog · 6 years

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☽ ┊[ IM JINAH / APHRODITE ] IS THAT [ SUNMI HYUNG ] ? I HEARD THAT THE [ 23 ] YEAR OLD [ CISFEMALE ] IS A [ SOCIALITE ] FROM [ MANHATTAN ]. I HEARD THAT THEY’RE [ + ALLURING & + CHARMING ] BUT ALSO [ - SPOILED & - SENSITIVE ]. RUMOR HAS IT THAT THEY HAVE A REPUTATION FOR BEING KNOWN AS [ THE BABY DOLL ].

MAIN HEADCANONS: –– sunmi hails from a wealthy family, daughter to a south korean ceo & a very ruthless lawyer, her parents never once missed their important meetings and job calls to tend to their daughter’s needs. –– both her parents climbed the social ladder very early in life. she’s never had to beg or ask for a thing, because they’d make up for the lack of love & attention by showering her in gifts and money. sunmi had her first pony when she was five, being a passionate lover of animals ( i will delve deeper into this !! ) –– they moved to nyc once sunmi was two years old, in 1997, leaving south korea for yet another territory to be explored by her father’s company. she never had to learn south korean ( although she does speak it at home ), so her main language is english. –– her father owns a cosmetics company, and her mother works for her father; it’s how they met: through work. sunmi used to think it was a beautiful love story until the day she caught her father cheating on her mother. she never mentioned it once though, too afraid that the divorce was going to tear her mother apart. –– she was expected perfection from everywhere. sunmi’s still traumatized by the demands that her parents made, and she found comfort in the little things of life. this is what ultimately makes her so sensitive ( something which will be talked about ! ) and solonely, too.

PERSONALITY HEADCANONS: –– she’s extremely love & attention hungry. because her parents never once gave her the attention and the love she truly needed, she’s a child that comes from neglect. of course, the optimistic side in her refuses to see it that way, but putting it truthfully, they weren’t one bit mindful of their child. –– being a socialite comes easy to her. sunmi is good at smiling, at playing pretend and dressing up. she’s the ultimate girly girl in every aspect, sometimes shockingly so. even her mother, who gladly imposed these ideals upon sunmi, is shocked at times. –– a little childish at times. she’s also a little too competitive and tends to take things way too personally. one would call her ‘ oversensitive ’, but i like to think her sensitivity hails from a good place. even though she’s spoiled, a socialite and someone who never truly had to face the trials that a regular person would, she’s good-hearted. –– sunmi knows she’s pretty. she’s never shied away from the spotlight, and she thrives on being the center of the attention. from papparazzi harassing her for pictures to desperate fans wanting one bit of her minute, she knows she’s relevant and she fully embraces it. –– her personality was slightly based off of songs by marina & the diamonds, with lyrics such as “hollywood infected your brain / you wanted kissing in the rain” and “got a figure like a pinup, got a figure like a doll”, it’s hard not to compare her to the archetypes established by marina in her sophomore album, ‘ electra heart ’. i took bits of these archetypes and incorporated them into her personality, such as the idle teen ( “i wanna be a bottled blonde / i don’t know why but i feel conned” ), the homewrecker ( “every boyfriend is the one until otherwise proven”, “deception & perfection are wonderful traits / one will breed love, the other, hate” ) the primadonna ( “primadonna girl, yeah / all i ever wanted was the world” ) and the heartbreaker ( “this is how to be a heartbreaker / boys they like a little danger” ) –– her signature look is her hot pink lipstick, it’s a mark of her passion, her infatuation with love & her spontaneous personality. –– a quote that describes her perfectly is one famous quote by marilyn monroe whom i personally adore ( and i will ellaborate on the parallels later !! ), it goes: “i’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. i make mistakes, i am out of control and at times hard to handle. but if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you surely don’t deserve me at my best.” –– i have based her off of famous personalities such as audrey hepburn and marilyn monroe. i like to think she’s a mixture of both, for her generosity ( which audrey so vehemently was ) and for her beauty, as well as her passion, a passion that reminds me of how spontaneously marilyn lived - she had a short life, and i like to thing it was as good as she portrayed in her pictures. she was envied by many women and even hated by them ( this was something that bothered her greatly ), but she always put herself first and wasn’t afraid to be a beautiful, powerful woman. these aspects are what make sunmi so closely similar to these two women. –– CHARACTER FLAWS: superficial / childish / sensitive / fickle. –– CHARACTER QUALITIES: generous / loving / spontaneous / fun. TESTS & OTHER LITTLE HEADCANONS: –– her MBTI type is ESFP, they’re enthusiastic and fun-loving, as well as social butterflies who thrive on attention. they tend to have a special bond with children & animals, and are known as natural “performers” & “entertainers”. “ESFPs get caught up in the excitement of the moment, and want everyone else to feel that way, too. no other personality type is as generous with their time and energy as ESFPs when it comes to encouraging others, and no other personality type does it with such irresistible style. ESFPs are welcome wherever there’s a need for laughter, playfulness, and a volunteer to try something new and fun – and there’s no greater joy for ESFP personalities than to bring everyone else along for the ride. ESFPs can chat for hours, sometimes about anything but the topic they meant to talk about, and share their loved ones’ emotions through good times and bad. if they can just remember to keep their ducks in a row, they’ll always be ready to dive into all the new and exciting things the world has to offer, friends in tow. ” i handpicked ESFP for her because it perfectly matches with her generous, loving and spontaneous style, which i talked about a little bit earlier, but i imagine sunmi as the type of fun person in your life whom you never quite forget. –– her hogwarts house is HUFFLEPUFF. because of her softness, i do not see her fitting anywhere else but hufflepuff. her amity, her love for people and her generosity truly make her a great hufflepuff, as well as a daring one, for her fearlessness to be herself and her spontainety. hufflepuff is the most inclusive of the houses, they are known for being fair and for being loyal, something which i definitely thought about before sorting sunmi into hufflepuff. if she were a harry potter character ( yes, i’ve thought about this !! ) she’d be famous in her house, not only for her beauty, but for her great and loving personality as well.

MISCELLANEOUS HEADCANONS: –– some of her aesthetics would include: pink bubblegum, fresh & long manicured nails, flirting with strangers, fake smiling, flashing cameras, perfectly curled hair, big hugs, frilly dresses, the colour baby pink… and more here. –– i have chosen the colour baby pink & an off-white colour for her aesthetics because they represent many of the things which i believe she encompasses: pink is a very feminine, delicate and sweet colour, it is also the colour of unconditional love ( channeling her inner aphrodite here !! ). here are some aspects i’ve found interesting about the colour pink that apply to her: “a combination of red and white, pink contains the need for action of red, helping it to achieve the potential for success and insight offered by white. it is the passion and power of red softened with the purity, openness and completeness of white. the deeper the pink, the more passion and energy it exhibits. pink is intuitive and insightful, showing tenderness and kindness with its empathy and sensitivity. if you have a friend who constantly wears pink as it may indicate a need for acceptance, support and unconditional love! pink is a non-threatening color seeking appreciation, respect and admiration. It doesn’t like to be taken for granted and just loves to hear the words ‘thank you’. it is the color of uncomplicated emotions, inexperience and naiveté. a constant and exclusive use of pink can often lead you to become immature, silly and girlish, abandoning your adult responsibilities.” i believe she can be immature and sensitive sometimes, as well as someone who isn’t too keen on her own responsibilities, someone with a peter pan syndrome, someone that never quite let go of her childish aspects.

#karmahq:intro #╰ ♡ ( intro. )

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roseleinrarities · 6 years

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Twirling is irresistible in a full petticoat! Emily could just twirl and twirl all day long. 😄 This ivory one from the 1950s is awesome! Now in the shop... . . . . . . . . . . . . . #twirl #youspinmerightround #pinup #pinupgirl #pinupphotography #etsy #etsyvintage #etsyshop #etsylove #pinuplingerie #petticoat #vintage #1950s #1950sfashion #1950spinup #cute #iowamodel #sweet #girl #pretty

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mx-requests-forum · 6 years

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[Fulfilled] Cooking Dinner

Prompt: Changki + kitchen sex

Fulfilled by Moderator M~

Words: 2486

Warnings: explicit rating

AO3 Link (For Easier Reading)

The sounds of pots and pans clashing together resounded in the small apartment, the heavenly smell of delicious food wafting through the air. Kihyun was working on a typical weekday dinner, but it was still quite the production- there was one main dish and three side dishes, paired with a dessert… all for just him and his boyfriend. He was making good progress, but was missing a few ingredients, and was waiting on his little errand boy to return with them.

“Hoooome,” Changkyun called out as he walked back into his shared apartment with Kihyun, sliding off his shoes and shuffling his bags around as he walked through the threshold. Making his way through the house, Changkyun entered the kitchen and dropped off the grocery bags full of all the things Kihyun had asked him to bring.

“Welcome home~ did you find everything?” Kihyun asked, leaning over to give his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips as he continued preparing food. Changkyun nodded silently, beginning to unpack the grocery bags. Beside him, Kihyun hummed, glancing over at the time.

“Oh crap, I’m not going to be able to finish dinner by 7…” Kihyun said, biting his lip as he looked at all of the things he still had to prepare. Changkyun shuffled in place, blinking cutely over at his boyfriend.

“I can help you cook,” Changkyun offered, smiling cutely. Giving him a thankful look, Kihyun leaned over, kissing the boy on the cheek.

“Thank you Kkungie~” Kihyun said, and then went back to cooking, feeling a little relieved now that he had some extra help in the kitchen. Getting the pure white, frilly apron from its hook, Changkyun brought it to his chest, a sudden flush rising to his cheeks.

“I’m gonna… put on my apron,” Changkyun said, and Kihyun absently nodded, not really sure why Changkyun felt the need to vocalize this. Changkyun then began walking out of the room, shuffling into the bathroom as he went to change into his apron. A few minutes later, Changkyun came back in, and Kihyun started arranging the things he wanted Changkyun to help him with.

“First, can you wash and slice the cucumber and tomatoes?” Kihyun asked, grabbing the vegetables and handing them to Changkyun… gasping at the sight he was greeted with when he looked over to the other boy. Changkyun was wearing the cutest white, frilly apron… only the apron. His delicate frame was hardly hidden from the front, covering only a fraction of his chest and the cute fabric skirting at his upper-thigh, but from the back- he was completely exposed. Kihyun bit back a groan, licking his lip as he got a good look at Changkyun’s totally bare, curvaceous ass. He looked like a god damn pinup, something straight out of a Play Boy magazine, and it was honestly the last thing Kihyun was expecting to see when his boyfriend offered to help him cook.

“Sure, Kihyun~” Changkyun replied, his expression demure and shy, and he grabbed the vegetables from Kihyun’s hands, taking them to the sink. Finally getting out of his Changkyun-induced haze, Kihyun blinked several times, shaking his head and returning to his pan with a flustered expression.

“Changkyunnie,” Kihyun said, and he smiled to himself in disbelief. “Why aren’t you wearing any clothes?” he continued, stirring the food he was sautéing. Changkyun curled into himself a little bit, his cheeks turning five shades redder as he began washing the cucumber.

“I just wanted to do somethin’ for you, baby~” Changkyun said, and Kihyun bit his lip at the cute comment, holding back an adoring squeal. When Kihyun glanced back over, his mind nearly short-circuited, watching Changkyun stroke a cucumber with his soft, delicate hands, rubbing the vegetable with precise movements that were borderline crass. He simply accepted Changkyun’s answer, not really in a position to tell him to change clothes since the boy was helping him cook and all… not to mention he looked hot as hell.

Getting back to their food preparation, the two boys continued to cook in relative silence other than the sound of the water running and hot food searing. Kihyun couldn’t help but glance over at his boyfriend more than he’d like to admit, the rare sight both gorgeous and arousing, it was difficult to ignore. In Changkyun’s mind, however, he wasn’t getting nearly enough attention- Kihyun was barely even glancing at him, let alone doing anything more. He wanted to tempt Kihyun, to drive his boyfriend crazy. Maybe all he needed to do was step it up a notch.

Picking up the cucumber and bringing it closer to the faucet, and more within Kihyun’s line of sight, Changkyun began outright ‘pleasuring’ it, rubbing it and stroking it with careful, erotic motions. He felt dirty, doing this right next to his boyfriend that wasn’t even watching him, while he was dressed so lewdly. Biting his lip, Changkyun glanced over at Kihyun, blinking a few times, eyelashes fluttering. Kihyun always looked so sexy when he cooked, lips drawn in a focused pout and eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. He looked totally in control and confident, which was admittedly a turn-on for Changkyun, and with a slight whine, he realized he was actually starting to get hard.

“I think that cucumber is clean now, Changkyunnie~” Kihyun drawled out, and when Changkyun looked back over at the boy, his eyes widened, surprised to see Kihyun leaned against the counter watching him. When did Kihyun finish cooking? Changkyun didn’t even hear him turn off the burner, and now here he was giving the boy his full attention.

“I- I…” Changkyun began, having trouble finding his words, feeling embarrassed now that Kihyun was giving him so much attention. Kihyun raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer to the boy. “Oh? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” Kihyun asked, getting even closer to Changkyun. “Even though you got all dressed up in this cute little apron and have been jerking off a cucumber? You’re suddenly feeling embarrassed now?” Kihyun chuckled, his voice cheeky and lips turned up in a smirk. Changkyun flushed hotly, eyes darting around anxiously as he avoided Kihyun’s gaze. “I just wanted to get your attention,” Changkyun mumbled, and at the feeling of Kihyun close behind him, he arched his back, expectant and needy for Kihyun’s body against his. However, this wasn’t what he got; instead, Kihyun was simply putting a dish into the oven next to him. Changkyun whined, lowering his hand and flopping his head down, feeling neglected.

“Changkyun, you’re hard,” Kihyun whispered, voice breathy and full of sensuality as he stood next to Changkyun, eyes honed in on the tent in his apron. Changkyun’s eyes widened and he moved to cover his front, shaking his head in denial.

“No, I’m-” Changkyun argued, turning his body away from Kihyun’s, unknowingly putting his bare ass on full display. Hearing a low noise of approval, Changkyun bit his lip, trying to decide which was worse- showing his embarrassing erection to Kihyun, or his completely naked backside. He chose the boner, and kept his back to Kihyun, still clutching a cucumber in one hand.

“Mm, fuck,” Kihyun groaned out, and Changkyun lurched forward at the sudden smack he received to his ass, lips parting in a surprised gasp. “Your ass looks so good,” Kihyun drawled out, stepping closer to the boy, hand now grabbing the flesh outright. “I’m glad you did this for me, but I’m a little frustrated that you decided to do this while I was focused on cooking; I wasn’t even able to touch you, and you were putting yourself on display so nicely,” he continued, and Changkyun swallowed, leaning his head back to rest on Kihyun’s shoulder, body on fire as Kihyun whispered obscene things to him. At the feeling of something hard pressing against his butt, Changkyun bit his lip, grinding his ass against Kihyun’s cock.

“You got hard too~” Changkyun said, a little proud of himself. He didn’t even need to touch Kihyun to get him completely aroused. Kihyun’s hands moved up to Changkyun’s hips, grabbing him and roughly pressing him against his crotch, grinding his erection against Changkyun’s plush ass.

“I sure did,” Kihyun easily admitted with another grind. “What are you planning on doing about it?” Kihyun asked, and he smiled at the sound of a strained moan slipping from Changkyun’s lips.

“You can fuck me,” Changkyun offered, voice low and a little shy. Kihyun smiled breathily, loving how eager his boyfriend was for his cock.

“Right now?” Kihyun asked, a little skeptical, and Changkyun nodded, moving to lean against the counter, setting down the cucumber and bracing himself with one hand, while the other went to spread his ass cheeks. He dipped a finger into the crevice, and with a wet, sloshy noise, Kihyun’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Changkyun answered, and he bowed his head, trying to avoid Kihyun’s intense stare. “I already prepared myself,” he explained, and Kihyun damn near growled, finding his boyfriend completely irresistible. Getting behind Changkyun and grabbing his ass with both hands, Kihyun spread his cheeks, licking his lips at the sight of Changkyun’s cute pink hole- already prepared for him. Kihyun quickly took off his apron, throwing it haphazardly onto the floor before unzipping his pants and whipping out his cock. He didn’t realize how horny Changkyun had gotten him, but now that the boy was practically begging for his cock, Kihyun could hardly hold himself back. He wanted to be inside him, desperately.

“You ready, baby?” Kihyun asked, the tip of his dick lightly pressed against Changkyun’s entrance. He spared a glance towards the pile of food he had yet to cook and briefly considered the fact the he should probably be cooking that food- but at Changkyun’s reply, his thoughts were completely wiped.

“Yes, please give it to me~” Changkyun moaned out, sticking his ass into the air and waggling it slightly, the apron bow on his back shifting around with the movement. Inhaling brokenly, Kihyun shook his head, wondering just how he lucky he was to have a boyfriend as sexy as Changkyun.

Not wanting to delay Changkyun’s pleasure any further, Kihyun slowly began inserting himself into Changkyun’s ass, mouth parted in a silent moan as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside. The feeling of Changkyun’s tight heat was heavenly, and Kihyun didn’t stop until he was completely to the hilt inside him, biting back a groan. Beneath him, Changkyun’s body was trembling as he tried taking Kihyun’s cock, glad he had taken the extra time preparing himself when he changed into the apron earlier, because this was damn near sinful. They’d never fucked in the kitchen before, but there was something really sexy about Changkyun’s bare feet against the tiles and body leaned over the kitchen counter covered in cooking ingredients while his boyfriend was balls-deep in his ass.

After a few more seconds of letting Changkyun adjust to him, Kihyun began moving, starting with slow, shallow thrusts and quickly picking up his pace. At the sound of Changkyun’s broken, desperate moans, Kihyun started fucking him even shallower, an amused smirk on his lips. Frustrated, Changkyun pushed his hips back, trying to force Kihyun deeper inside him. When Kihyun stepped back, that’s when Changkyun knew the older boy was fucking with him.

“Kihyun~” Changkyun whined out, trying once again to force Kihyun’s dick further inside him, but it was to no avail. Kihyun grabbed his ass, holding him in place as he shallowly fucked him.

“How do you want it?” Kihyun asked, but they both already knew the answer. This was part of the fun, too, this sort of teasing Kihyun liked to put Changkyun through. Changkyun felt embarrassment well up, and he grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter, his face burning.

“You know what I want,” Changkyun answered, feeling a little stubborn. He’d already done so much, why did Kihyun feel the need to tease him more? Of course, Changkyun loved it, but it still made him tingly with embarrassment.

“I do, but I want you to say it,” Kihyun responded, and Changkyun arched his brows, starting to get desperate for more cock. Finally caving, Changkyun swallowed, responding to Kihyun’s demand.

“Fuck me deeper, Kihyun,” Changkyun begged, and was met with instant gratification, body arching at the feeling of Kihyun pounding him hard and deep- just like he liked it. Biting back moan after moan, Changkyun suddenly lost all control, a string of lewd noises slipping from his lips as his boyfriend pounded his ass. Enamored with the way Changkyun sounded on his cock, Kihyun smiled loosely, smacking the boy’s ass absently as he continued pounding away.

“Feels- so good,” Changkyun choked out, voice coming out in broken spurts as he got roughly fucked against the kitchen counter, mind unable to think about anything other than Kihyun’s cock and how good it felt inside him. Kihyun smiled, breath coming out in short spurts as he put every effort into fucking the shit out of Changkyun.

“Feels good for me too,” Kihyun replied and he let out a strained groan, finding just the right angle to grind against the perfect spot, already beginning to feel close, but not wanting to end it without Changkyun. Luckily for him, the perfect spot for Kihyun was also the perfect spot for Changkyun, and, judging by the loudly spat curse, Changkyun was getting close too.

“I’m close,” Changkyun whimpered, legs shaking from the force of Kihyun’s thrusts and how ridiculously good he was making him feel. Kihyun nodded, replying that he was too, and he gripped Changkyun’s hips harder, cock rapidly sliding in and out of him. After a few more minutes of the blissful feeling, both boys came- Changkyun squirting his cum all over the inside of his apron, and Kihyun emptying himself inside Changkyun. They rode out their orgasms for a few seconds, before Kihyun pulled out, both panting from the physical exertion.

After collecting themselves, Kihyun continued cooking their dinner, finishing up washing the vegetables for the salad that Changkyun never got to finish, while Changkyun went to their bedroom to change back into regular clothes. Dinner was completed not long after, and Kihyun set the table, laying out all of his carefully prepared dishes. When Changkyun came back, Kihyun gave him a sweet smile, and they then began eating Kihyun’s dinner.

“Mm!! This is so good!” Changkyun complimented, taking a hearty bite from his meal. Kihyun smiled softly, glad he was able to please his boyfriend with his cooking. Taking a few more bites, Changkyun continued making pleased noises, utterly content with Kihyun’s cooking… until Kihyun suddenly noticed a shift in his demeanor.

“What’s the matter?” Kihyun asked, worried that there was something wrong with his food. Changkyun suddenly flushed, giving his boyfriend a demure expression.

“It’s nothing… just, there’s cum dripping down my thigh~” <3

#changki #smut #fulfilled request #im changkyun #yoo kihyun #monsta x #monstax #fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic

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xnxadultstore · 4 years

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Naughty & Sexy Coloring Books for Adults

Yes, that is what you thought the primary time you heard the phrase “Adult Coloring Books” Naughty, Sexy Funny and Kinky describe the listing we have now put collectively for you. We even have a web page of Sexy Men Coloring Books right here for you to peruse.

Racy & Irreverent Books for Grownups

These are a bit racy and irreverent so in case you are simply offended you may wish to skip this part however these appear like nice presents for a few of our buddies this 12 months. Find Cuss Word coloring books right here and humorous political coloring books right here.

Some books are humorous and a few are naughty and a few are for foodies.. this e book managed to seize all three. I completely find it irresistible and was LAUGHING OUT LOUD going via the pages. You will too.

Suck My Cookbook: Clean Recipes for Dirty Minds

A Coloring Book by Cherrie Poppins (Author),‎ Wild Billy (Illustrator) Suck my Cookbook has all of it. Naughtily intelligent illustrations that match up with the recipes. You not solely have coloring to do, however there are additionally phrase search, crossword puzzles and extra to maintain you busy. This can be a PERFECT White Elephant reward alternate reward in case your group has an excellent humorousness in addition to the foodie in your reward listing. I’m thrilled the writer despatched me a couple of copies, I’ve already discovered houses for them and might’t wait to see what my buddies do with them.

Click to order Amazon US, UK & Canada or Book Depository

Dirty Little Housewife Coloring Book for Adults Only

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Naughty and Sexy Coloring Books for Adults

Tamara Van Wijk has a couple of actually cute and attractive coloring books for you. The paper shouldn’t be the best however you’ll be able to copy the photographs to card inventory when you prefer to layer your coloured pencils or use artwork markers

Slinky Tarts Volume 1 – Cute and Sexy Girls to Color

Coloring e book addicts of both intercourse will like this e book.

I’ve been in love with this enjoyable artist for the reason that first second I noticed one of many illustrations coloured in, Take a glance. Reviews state that the paper high quality isn’t excellent so my suggestion is to repeat them to some good card inventory so you could possibly use your markers.

Slinky Tart – Something Old Something New – The Slinky Tart coloring e book for Adults…and Men, is a coloring e book with cute and traditional Pin-Up cartoon women. Some themed, some plain, however all are attractive in their very own cute means. 24 single-sided Pages of naughty attractive enjoyable. *Paper is skinny and doesn’t maintain as much as a lot layering.

US UK Canada

Grimm Fairy Tales Adult Coloring Book

Join within the journey and escape by coloring the strains of the world’s most recognizable characters. From Red Riding Hood to Cinderella, Little Mermaid to Robyn Hood, and OZ to Wonderland. Hone your coloring abilities by collaborating with among the finest artists within the comedian e book trade similar to Jamie Tyndall, J. Scott Campbell, Dawn McTigue and extra.

My Review, I am keen on the photographs on this e book sadly the paper is simply terrible in case you are an individual who makes use of coloured pencils for layering. You are going to want to repeat your favourite pictures over to card inventory!

Chrissy the Coloring Book Addict

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The Burlesque Coloring Book

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50 Bubble Butts

An Adult Coloring Book for Men – Pinup Girls Risqué Voluptuous Female Figures to Color & Sketch

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The Kinky Coloring Books by James Courtney

There are four books to this point on this assortment which all characteristic 35 black and white Illustrations of the most well liked Bay Area different fashions, all drawn by artist James Courtney. They are printed on either side of the paper so if you wish to use Copics you’ll want to repeat them over to card inventory. A improbable e book to apply your shading.

Kinky Coloring Book 1

Kinky Book 1 Click to order US UK Canada

Kinky Coloring Book 2

Kinky Coloring Book 2 Click to order US UK Canada

Kinky Coloring Book three

Kinky Coloring Book three Click to order US UK Canada

Kinky Coloring Book four

Kinky Coloring Book four Click to order US UK Canada

Sexy Anime Girls Uncensored Coloring Book for Grown-Ups

Order Sexy Anime Girls Uncensored US, UK or Canada

Fetish Coloring Book

Hilarious opinions on this one!

“This was the wrong gift for my mom. IT was also the wrong gift for my 8-year-old cousin. It was absolutely the right gift for the guy with night vision goggles across the street. He no longer spies. Great success!” and one other “Be ready for a really kinky e book! Various fetishes and in case you are not open-minded this e book shouldn’t be for you. It may be very naughty! (Nothing mistaken with naughty!)

You will want a variety of pores and skin tone and pink pencils & Skin tone markers people! This e book ought to be rated X! Such an entertaining e book, that is actually an grownup coloring e book.”

Amazon Reviews

US UK Canada

Boob Coloring Books

PLAY WITH MY BOOBS: A Titstacular Activity Book for Adults –

Yes.. we stated boobs.. everybody has them…. what a terrific bachelor occasion or gag reward. Creator D.D. Stacks says this. PLAY WITH MY BOOBS options mazes, matching video games, fill-in-the-blanks, phrase searches, coloring pages and far more, all that includes all-new bodacious, busty beauties.

STICKER MY BOOBS. The excellent occasion favor for Bachelorette and Bachelor events. Surprisingly tasteful, these witty books supply hours of intimate enjoyable! Some reviewers discovered it disgusting however most cherished it. Apparently you DO want markers to paint the stickers.

Bras for the Cause

Funny Names For Breasts

Cock Coloring Books

Cocktastic Willies as Art

The Big Adventures of Tiny Dick

This e book is nice for bachelorette events, boring Friday nights dwelling alone, or to ship to a (very tiny) ex-boyfriend.

An X-Rated Coloring Book

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

Big Cocks Coloring Book For Adults

Only for adults, they’re humorous and impolite, soiled and filthy and enjoyable for you to paint. Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

The Big Coloring e book of Co**s

Click to Order US – UK – Canada

Vagina Coloring Books

There are a number of forms of VJJ footage which might be accessible on Amazon & from Etsy artists.

The Big Coloring Book of VJJ’s

(This one jogs my memory of that episode of Sex & the City the place the artist paints Charlotte’s)

Vajayjays: A Fertile Crescent Coloring Book for Adults

Important Parts: A Coloring Book for the Crotch Enthusiast

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The Post-Structuralist Vulva Coloring Book

Even extra VJJ Coloring Books on Etsy Here.

Sex Position Coloring Book

Click to order US – Amazon UK – Canada

Fat Ladies in Spaaaaace: a body-positive coloring e book

Amazon reviewer Professor Mom say ” I like, love, love this coloring e book. It’s enjoyable, humorous, and so respectful of girls of all sizes and shapes. It could be only a wee bit mature for some children (it refers to seducing alien girls in one of many captions, has a little bit of cleavage in among the drawings and obliquely acknowledges the truth that people won’t be straight) however any little one with cool mother and father might deal with it and any grownup who believes in celebrating physique variety and likes sci-fi/fantasy will find it irresistible.

The paper high quality may be very good. The cowl is sturdy and the drawings are clear, crisp and easy sufficient to make for enjoyable coloring. This can be a terrific reward to offer a buddy who may want an antidote to the pervasive societal messages that fats people can’t do wonderful issues.

Click to Order Amazon US, UK or Canada

The Llama Sutra: An Off-Colour Adult Colouring Book: Lecherous Llamas

Suggestive Sloths & Uncouth Unicorns In Flagrante Delicto For Adults Only!For these with a naughty humorousness

Order Here

We totally researched opinions on these, there are others within the style however a lot of them have horrible opinions so please be certain and browse these earlier than ordering.

UK Only Sexy Colouring Books

Colouring for Grown-Ups – Adult Activity Book

The Big Adventures of Tiny Dick

Penis Coloring Book For Adults Midnight Edition

Cock Coloring Book For Adults – Funny Cocks Coloring Book for Adults that includes 30 Sweary and Naughty names for Cock crammed with Henna, Paisley and Mandala Patterns

Secret Beneath the Leaves Sensual Coloring Book for Adults

Secrets Beneath the Leaves by Vivid Owl Coloring takes the coloring artist on a journey via a sensual, whimsical backyard, stuffed with lush leaves, unique flowers, curious critters, and sensual delights. This grownup coloring e book invitations you to discover 30 absolutely hand-illustrated designs, impressed by the fantastic thing about nature and the human physique and gives hours and hours of coloring pleasure.

This was such a enjoyable coloring e book to obtain from Vivid Owl if you first have a look you simply see intricately tangled gardens however you begin to do a double-take when entwined within the leaves you see lovers embracing in several positions. The cowl is luscious thick waxy paper and the pages inside are one-sided so that you marker people will love this one. Don’t overlook to place a chunk of paper behind your work. This shipped to us all the way in which from Sweden and we’re so glad it did.

Click to Order Amazon US UK Canada

Canadian’s Only. Naughty Coloring Books

Karleigh Sue’s Coloring Book – Sexy Pinup Girls to paint in

Japanese Erotica: A Sexy Adult Coloring Book

Sexy Adult Coloring Books in Canada

Looking for Swear Word Coloring books? There have been so many we determined they wanted their very own web page. Click Here.

Sexy Coloring Books & Pages from Etsy

Naughty Santa Coloring Book

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Pin-Up Girls Colouring Book PDF Printable version (Instant gratification) Pin-Up Girls Coloring Book

Sexy Coloring Book Supplies you will want embrace:

Also, take a look at our curated listing of Best Swear Word Coloring Books, Best Funny Coloring Books, Sexy Hot Men Coloring for Adults and Best Political Coloring Books. Lots of snickers available there.

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The post Naughty & Sexy Coloring Books for Adults appeared first on XNX Adult Store.

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black-is-no-colour · 7 years

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Martin Margiela's Advice to John Galliano: “Take What You Will from the DNA of the House, Protect Yourself, and Make It Your Own.”

Vogue.com I by Laird Borrelli-Persson, on 12 October 2017

Since 2015, Gibraltar-born, London-raised John Galliano has been ensconced in the Paris-based Maison Margiela, where anonymity has always reigned. Galliano once took his bows at Christian Dior, Givenchy, and his eponymous label in all matter of fantasy costumes; at Margiela he never appears, but his signature Midas touch is on every piece that comes down the runway.

The designer’s early work was driven by improbable and irresistible narratives pulled from history and literature. His muses ranged from royalty (Princess Lucretia, Cleopatra, the Marchesa Luisa Casati) to pinups and Degas dancers. If one could rack up points for time travel, Galliano would never set foot off a plane, as his past work zigzagged between the Harlem Renaissance and the Elizabethan era. The DNA of the Maison Margiela is deconstruction (aka “la mode destroy”), an approach to which Galliano has added romance and surprise, combined with a devotion to craft. Jettisoning dramatic scenography, and epic tales, the designer has pared back his approach and narrowed his focus, and now tells stories more directly through garments that push the fashion conversation forward.

At today’s Forces of Fashion conference, Galliano sat down with his old friend André Leon Talley to discuss creativity then, now, and always. Here are highlights from their conversation.

On the blouse blanche I adopted it out of great respect for Maison Margiela. It’s a great thing to wear. Everyone wears white coats, so, when we have visitors, everyone’s super nice to everyone because they’re not quite sure if they’re [talking to] the CEO. You know, democratic values.

On his new gig [Moving from Dior to Margiela] didn’t really effect my creative process, but I did have to get very creative in every other aspect, for sure. There was a room called atelier; it said Atelier, but when I went in, no, no, no, no. I just had to surround myself with really strong people—people I'd worked with before—and creatively begin to build a team. Honestly, the existing team that was there, they’d done a great job, but they were more bricolage, which is, you know, cutting things up and putting them together again. I wanted to create new volumes, because fashion can’t go forward [otherwise]. Fashion is about volumes; you have to expand it with volumes. I remember presenting a bit of an experiment I’d done on the stand and a sketch, and they were like, “What’s that?!” Anyway, they only lasted three or four days. I never saw them again!

Also, I was obsessed with perfection and polishing—you know, over-polishing—and at Maison Margiela I’ve discovered the joy in the unfinished. It doesn’t have to be so polished. It’s helped me to, perhaps, loosen my control over image and things—it’s actually quite nice when mistakes happen along the way. It may not be what I asked for at the beginning, but it’s certainly something quite new and worth playing with; that rawness and that emotion just really sits very well with me, and Maison Margiela is able to express emotion through volume and cut, line….

On overcoming adversity I had to do the work I had to do, and I’m so grateful of that time that I spent on my own. Really, the joy of creativity is what pulled me through. It’s why I’m here today.

On the bias technique I will be honest, I had started to cut things on the circle—circular sleeves, circular bodies—to cause some sort of disruption or cowling. It was one of my tutors who said, “Oh, that fabric is on the bias.” I had no idea, and then I was introduced to Madeleine Vionnet and I was just blown away. …. [Bias] teaches you so much, it’s like liquid mercurial. It’s a dialogue, it stretches, it shrinks, it’s chaotic, you know, but it teaches you so much. It’s a real challenge. It’s just the most beautiful way of cutting, I think. And I think it’s been very gendered, too. I’m going to try doing it for menswear. The idea of producing a bias-cut men’s suit, can you imagine it? That illustrative line…but so comfortable to wear.

And then I did put [the bias] to the side, actually. I did. I thought I’d become quite known for the bias cuts, and when I went to Maison Margiela… I just wasn’t there yet. But, having a bit more freedom at Margiela, I realized that it didn’t have to be over-polished or overbalanced or any of those over- things, so I started playing with the bias again. I thought, “How can I do it? I do want to do it, it’s me—it’s part of me—but I want to do it in a way that is relevant for Maison Margiela.” So I started to play with tweeds on the bias and they would unravel. A tweed dress for day (for day!) on the bias... And then I started playing—mixing tweeds with satin-backed crepe—and there was this kind of disruption, which normally, we’d have to fix, but I went with it. I rather liked the disruption that the two fabrics were causing and I thought it was really beautiful. So that’s kind of how the bias has now developed at Maison Margiela and I’m really happy. I embrace it, but it just took me a little bit of time to cleanse and to take it on board again, and I’m really happy I have.

On meeting Martin Margiela The last time we met he said, “You may not see me ever again.” [That was] just before I joined [Maison Margiela]. I mean, we write each other emails. He’s very anonymous. I did invite him to my house for tea. Well, he wanted to meet, and so we met. It was the most amazing, amazing experience ever. He remembered me and he said we’d hung out in clubs and stuff in London, but I have no recollection. I was not that conscious then. He was the assistant to Jean Paul [Gaultier] at the time, so there is truth in it. Anyway, I invited him round to number 5 and we had tea. I had so many questions to ask him, but I didn’t have to ask, it just poured out. Everything that you would want to know, anything that you…you just couldn’t find in a book—I mean, I can’t expose too much, because some of it was very personal, but he told me about his love of 17th-century French literature, 18th-century costume. Are these things you know about Martin? Because I certainly didn’t. So we had a great time. It was tea; it started at 4 p.m. and I think he left about 10 p.m. It was just amazing. He said: “Take what you will from the DNA of the house, protect yourself, and make it your own.” A Gentleman.

On the importance of social media [Social media] is really important. Like I said, my stages help me to create mood boards: we follow people, we engage with them. "I love the way [kids on social media] put themselves together now, because [a selfie] is a glamourous shot." It’s more spontaneous, I find, than when we were dressing up as kids and, you know, we’d spend three days getting ready. It’s much more spontaneous and immediate and, because of that, they’re less precious about everything. They really don’t need to know or care if David Bowie wore those trousers in ’72 and that they were worsted and cut by Tommy Nutter. No. The image speaks to them or it doesn’t, so of course [social media] has an effect, even on how you put a running order together in a show—the narrative, a direct message, what is it we’re trying to say with this show?

Taken from Vogue.com

#John Galliano #Galliano #Maison Margiela #Martin Margiela #Maison Margiela by John Galliano #Margiela #fashion #fashion designer #Fashion event #forces of fashion #Vogue #Vogue US #American Vogue

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javabachelor · 3 years

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#bachelorpadmagazine #pinup #pinupgirl #nightcapedition #irislemour #michaelsauer

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fayewonglibrary · 4 years

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Viva the Divas! (1996)

FROM AMERICA TO ASIA, STYLISH WOMEN SINGERS ARE FORCING THE BAD BOYS OF POP MUSIC TO STEP ASIDE

BY: RICHARD CORLISS

There was something feminine about Elvis. His mouth formed the pout of a sullen schoolgirl; his hair was swathed in more chemicals than a starlet’s; his hips churned like a hooker’s in heat. Presley was manly too, in a street-punk way. For him, the electric guitar was less an instrument than a symbolic weapon–an ax or a machine gun aimed at the complacent pop culture of the ‘50s. Performing his pansexual rite to a heavy bass line, Elvis set the primal image for rock: a man and his guitar, the tortured satyr and his magic lute.

He also established the androgyny of the male star. When a guy could provide his own sexual menace, long hair, coquetry and falsetto singing, who needed women? Oh, they were allowed to scream in the audience, or maybe sing backup, but not to rock on, down and dirty, with the big bad boys. Even today girls are no more encouraged to pick up a Stratocaster than to pilot an F-16. They are expected to play only one instrument: the voice.

And do they! After nearly 40 years as second-class citizens, women singers are staging their own revolution, The upheaval may be demure, even ladylike; Miwa Yoshida does not froth on the concert stage, nor is Faye Wong likely to trash a hotel room. But they have stormed the barricades where it counts: on the charts of best-selling CDs and in the hearts of a billion or so fans around the world. They have reconfigured pop music. This is the era of the pop diva.

Diva means goddess. The dictionary definition is more modern: “an operatic prima donna.” Let’s fiddle a little with those words. “Operatic”: note the strenuous, hyperemotional, aria-like feel to many pop ballads. “Prima donna”: remove its suggestion of imperious temperament and translate it literally as “first lady.” Voila! Celine Dion or Gloria Estefan, Whitney or Mariah, Madonna or Enya, Miwa or Faye, Toni Braxton or Tina Arena, Annie Lennox or Alanis Morissette. They come from the U.S., of course, but also from French and English Canada, from Cuba, Ireland, Scotland, France, Germany, Australia, Japan and China. In every country, in any language: la diva.

Like so many other forms of popular culture, the diva genre exists both locally and globally at the same time. Dion, from French Canada, alternates albums in French and English. Estefan, born in Cuba and raised in Miami, records in Spanish and English. Dion was chosen to open the Olympic Games in Atlanta with a pop hymn, The Power of the Dream, backed by a 300-member gospel choir, and Estefan was there on closing night to sing her anthemic Reach. Both singers embodied success stories as potent as any come-from-behind Olympic fairy tale: Dion, the youngest of 14 children who has become this year’s Diva Deluxe; and Estefan, brave survivor of a 1990 bus crash that broke her back, who is now back on top. “So I’ll go the distance this time,” she intones, “seeing more the higher I climb.”

Divas can’t climb much higher. They nestle at or near the top of their country’s music charts. Some, like Dion, Houston and Mariah Carey–not to mention, for the moment, Canada’s crack-voiced outlaw diva Alanis Morissette–have been on the Top 10 lists in Europe, the Americas and the Pacific Rim simultaneously. More important, most are damn fine singers. They are a link between the great voices of the past (think of Ella Fitzgerald, Ethel Merman, Edith Piaf) and the ears of people who can’t get attuned to the howling self-pity of much contemporary rock but aren’t ready to give up on pop music.

Like the Olympic spirit, the divas’ internationalist impulse reflects both a curiosity about other cultures and a nose for smart marketing. To spur Japanese sales of her Colour of My Love album, Dion added a new song, To Love You More, from the Japanese TV mini-series Lover, backed instrumentally by the Japanese ensemble Kryzler & Kompany. Dion sang it in English, but the locals didn’t mind: they bought 1.5 million copies.

A diva needn’t be Western to have the international flair. Nothing forces Yoshida, the soul-jazz sensation who fronts the band Dreams Come True, to go west to increase her Japanese fan base. She still writes and performs songs in her native language. Yet she usually records in Britain, and she cut her first solo set, Beauty and Harmony, in New York City with some top American sidemen. The collaboration produced vocals that were more precise, more regimented, than her past work. But it showed the need for even top regional artists to prove their chops in the U.S., which is still revered as the big leagues for singers.

Some stars of the Pacific, like Tina Arena, have long set their sights on America. An Australian who has sung publicly since she was five, Arena has an easy authority as vocalist and songwriter; her cool-teen voice matches her rock-easy compositions, which are so infectious that six-year-olds would learn them instantly and so familiar that you might think they were big hits a decade ago (they’re all new, all hers). When Arena gets precision and voltage into the songs–Heaven Help My Heart, Greatest Gift, Standing Up–she sounds like a kid sister to Elaine Paige, superb star of London musicals, who introduced such instant standards as Don’t Cry for Me Argentina (from Evita), Memory (from Cats) and a quite different Heaven Help My Heart (from Chess). But England is not Arena’s destination. She’s moved to Los Angeles because, like a lot of divas, she may believe she can’t be a star until she’s an American star.

Wong is too cool to entertain those ambitions. Indeed, she prefers to record in her native Beijing, where she can concentrate on her music, rather than in Hong Kong, where for years she was a formulaic Canto-pop singer known as Shirley Wong. Her striking, angular looks–think of an elongated pixie who moonlights as a sorceress–made her a natural for movies, but her debut made few notice; in Beyond’s Diary she played the girlfriend of a pop musician.

Gradually she found her own style, on records and on film. Her second picture, Wong Kar-wai’s Chungking Express, made her a hip pinup to sophisticated moviegoers on both sides of the Pacific. The film also internationalized her choice of music. She plays a dizzy waitress in a fast-food restaurant who is obsessed with going to California and playing, over and over and over, the 1966 California Dreamin’ by the Mamas and the Papas. Over the end credits she sings a Cantonese cover of the Cranberries hit Dreams. And now, on her Restless CD, she meets the international market on her own terms: five of the songs have no intelligible lyrics at all, and two irresistibly obscurantist cuts were written and produced by Scotland’s Cocteau Twins. Wong remains the spooky gamin of Chinese music, and Restless is a wondrous blend of Canto-pop and lollipop.

Wong’s approach alternates between a blissed-out whisper and bright piping in a register so high only Pekingese pups can hear it. That puts her squarely in one tradition of divadom: the vocal virtuoso. For decades, two Americans defined this style. Patti LaBelle, a gospel-trained ranter, has enthralled the faithful with her mad-woman riffs. Bette Midler, known internationally as the blowsy star of movie comedies, built her career as a throwback singer who could evoke Sophie Tucker’s bawdiness and Bessie Smith’s soul-in-hell emotional exhaustion with equal power and facility. The virtuoso mode can also be heard in the florid, world-weary style of France’s Catherine Ribeiro and, with glances back to the glamour of Piaf and Dietrich, in the bitter brilliance of Germany’s Ute Lemper. Though their styles were unique, all these women kept bright the flame of the traditional torch singer.

But none of them became international superstars or encouraged others to do the same. For that you can thank Houston (and her mentor at Arista Records, Clive Davis). It was an old recipe–great chops, exotic looks and a clever choice of material–that served Lena Horne, Abbey Lincoln, Eartha Kitt, and Houston’s cousin Dionne Warwick. But in the harsh prevailing winds of mid-'80s rap and heavy metal, Houston was a welcome spring breeze. Her delicacy of phrasing made songs like Saving All My Love for You and The Greatest Love of All easy listening in the best sense. Her prom-queen glamour made her an ideal star for the early video era, an antidote to Cyndi Lauper’s goofy-girl atavism and Madonna’s bad-girl sass. Her first album, Whitney Houston, sold 10 million copies.

Houston has retained her eminence, if not pre-eminence, while curtailing her output: she has released less than a single regular album’s worth of songs, only 10, since 1990. But her example and her relative quiescence have spurred a dozen divas-in-waiting. Many noted the structure of Houston’s big hits–a slow-tempo devotional tune that escalates from the foreplay of whispers to the explosive orgasm of wails and whoops–and made the mistake of imitating it. (Houston made that error too.) Dion’s early English-language albums are almost touching in their fidelity to the Whitney formula. It took her a while to realize she could relax on record.

Today’s top Whitneyesque star is Mariah Carey. Like Houston, she’ll mix ballads with synthesized dance music; she’s a handsome woman with a video flair; she has a patron in Tommy Mottola, boss of her record company, who is also her husband. Carey has even outsold Houston in the '90s, because she releases albums at a busier pace.

One big difference: Houston sings straight soprano with some church inflection; Carey is a coloratura. She could even be called a cubist, for she appraises nearly every note in every song from a dozen or more angles. In When I Saw You from her current Daydream CD, Carey breaks the word knew into an amazing 26 separate notes (this is only an estimate: we played these four seconds over and over, and got up to 26 just before we went mad). Her jazzy riffs suggest demon virtuosity, but it could also be musical browsing. Maybe Carey can’t decide which interpretation is the right one, so she tries them all.

Like Carey, many female singers co-write their music. Many others don’t, and are thus handicapped by pop’s 30-year tyranny of singer-songwriters. Hey, if you don’t write, you’re not an artist. “Vocal interpreter” used to be an honorable job description–good enough for Ella, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole. Now the epithet is often an insult. It conjures up images of a Las Vegas lounge singer crooning Feelings.

All right, maybe the top pop songwriters of the day–Babyface and David Foster (who collaborated on Dion’s The Power of the Dream) and Diane Warren (who helped Estefan write Reach) aren’t Gershwin and Stephen Foster and Harry Warren. But they can write good songs for good singers. These three composers all had a hand in Toni Braxton’s fine Secrets CD–dusky, mellow, infectiously commercial, like a grownup Tina Arena.

And there’s plenty of other good music to record. Alison Krauss, a child fiddle prodigy from Illinois and later a world-class bluegrass singer with her band Union Station, became a star with her 1995 compilation Now That I’ve Found You. The set puts Krauss’s mountain-stream soprano on pretty display. She caresses standards from R. and B. (the title song), gospel (the soul-lifting When God Dips His Pen of Love in My Heart) and the Paul McCartney catalog (an elfin I Will). Think of it: a singer with no gimmick but a passionate talent and a great, rangy taste in music.

If there’s a knock on the modern divas–whether pop, like Carey, Houston and Dion, or pure, like Krauss–it’s that their material is just too amiable. Much of their music is not just middle of the road; it tiptoes on the white line in the middle of the middle of the road. Dammit, they sing like girls! And in social norms, the pop diva adheres to the proper side of the gender split in music. She is expected to be a sister before a lover; the operative slur word is “nice.” Pop is the boarding school where the good girls live. Rock is the shooting gallery where the naughty boys hang out.

Somewhere between these extremes there should be an outlaw diva. She can do cool-guy things: write songs about malaise and disorientation, play a harmonica, take herself very seriously, sell 16 million copies of her first big CD. Why, she could be Alanis Morissette–the anti-Whitney, the pariah Mariah, the outre Faye, the mean Celine.

Anyway, that’s how the 22-year-old comes across on a first listen of the Jagged Little Pill album. Morissette’s songs sound aggressive, grudging, desperate. Her alto lurches among the octaves, from growl to shriek. A typical phrase will end in a gasp, as if one of the emotional inferiors in her songs had suddenly retaliated by pressing thumb and forefinger on her windpipe. The voice of Sinead O'Connor, you imagine, in the mind of Patti Smith.

But Morissette is not that simple. A former teen star in her native Canada, she’s smart enough to give her choruses sing-along melodies–the likely contribution of co-writer Glen Ballard, who formerly produced Wilson Phillips, the trio of cool-harmonizing, second-generation pop stars. In the perkier tunes (You Learn, Head over Feet), the singer overdubs tight harmonies that might have come from Wilson Phillips. And that is Morissette’s dirty little secret: inside her edgy plaints are craft and a yen to please. She’s a mainstream diva in spite of herself.

Morissette may soon discover that the rock machismo she approximates is often just an acid flavor of the month: a hit, a burnout, a trivia question. But being a diva is a life’s work. The Scottish Annie Lennox has been at it for 20 years, developing a husky voice and a gift for weaving a dramatic spell that is almost visual. Her 1995 Medusa album has 10 old and new songs written by others. The opening cut, No More “I Love You’s,” relies on Lennox’s evocation of love’s demons–“Desire, despair, desire, so many monsters”–and her conjuring up, in a mid-song monologue, of a little girl for whom these monsters come to life. A woman’s bed of sad passion has telescoped into a child’s bedroom fears at midnight.

The final number on Medusa is Paul Simon’s 1973 Something So Right. In Lennox’s gorgeous reworking, she answers the pessimism of No More “I Love You’s” and completes the album’s circle. “Some people never say the words I love you, / But like a child I’m longing to be told.” Again a girl in a woman’s supple voice, Lennox finds salvation foraging in a child’s garden of cries from the heart. Lennox might be Piaf here–there’s that eerie understanding of a lyric–but with the fever adjusted to room temperature.

Piaf is still an icon, both for her poignant life story and for her ability to hurdle emotion over the language barrier. But in the world market of the '90s, when virtually every album with gigantic global sales is in some form of English, what’s a diva to do? Cultivate her own garden, for the worldwide boom in CD sales means there are more people searching for something different. Morissette’s album is bubble-gum music next to Tori Amos’ Boys for Pele, with its forbiddingly opaque lyrics, a voice that runs amuck over the octaves and the famous inside photo of Amos with a suckling piglet at her breast. Yet the album has sold millions. Moral: You can’t be too weird. You must be you.

That is the message attended to by Wong in her recent take-me-or-leave-me mode, and by Yoshida in her American experiment. It surely applies to singers who harbor nations within themselves. Enya, the Celtic lass whose ethereal soundscapes might have emanated from a very gentle UFO, sings in Gaelic, English and Latin–the languages of family, school and church. Her melodies are so mellow as to seem downright shy, yet they’re so popular that an entire genre of new music is known simply as Enya.

By that standard, the pop brand of Cuban-American music should probably be called Gloria. With time, the Estefan sound has grown full and wise, Latin rhythms accompanying rather than defining the melody. Estefan has also learned to write for her voice and disposition; on her latest album, Destiny, she has taken her own advice. Reach–higher.

And Celine Dion has reached inside. The Falling into You CD, a supercharged superproduction, will yield perhaps half a dozen smasheroo singles, and it’s a treat to hear her belt a song to bits. But a bigger piece of her heart can be found on The French Album. There the girl from Quebec sings in her mother’s language and in a voice so ardent and discreet it reminds you of Elvis in the intimate ballads he recorded in his time off from creating the bad-boy iconography of rock. Murmuring like the heart just before sleeping, Dion’s voice summons the power and the glory of the diva.

–With reporting by Charles P. Alexander/Montreal

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SOURCE: TIME MAGAZINE

#1996

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