10 inch heels

GOT7 react to their s/o who loves wearing heels but doesn’t because if she does she will be taller than them

 A Request from:


Mark - “Babe, if you love wearing them, just wear it. Don’t mind me.” 

Originally posted by holyfuckmark


Jaebum - “Just like how you let me wear my bucket hat, I am not going to stop you from looking even more beautiful in those heels.”

Originally posted by saranghaeyojw


Jackson - He would stare at you for a whole minute before asking, “How high are we looking at here?” 

Originally posted by memeslutbutt


Jinyoung - “It’s your feet, and it’s your heels. Wear them before it gets spoiled and ugly. Plus, you won’t be that tall.” He quickly added, “Unless if you wear 10 inch heels.”

Originally posted by jypnior


Youngjae - Being irrelevant and the worried sunshine that he is, he couldn’t help it but blurted out “What if you fall and break your ankles?” 

Originally posted by doteyoungjae


Bambam - “Why aren’t you wearing the heels I bought for you?” He asked. After knowing the reason, he laughed “Babe, I bought them for you to make you look extra gorgeous and fabulous, okay? Don’t worry about the height difference. I doubt that you’d be taller than me.” 

Originally posted by chattyang


Yugyeom - “Omg! I remember this line from She’s The Man.” and he proceeds to quote the movie “Heels are a male invention designed to make a woman’s butt look smaller. And to make it harder for them to run away.”

Originally posted by yugyeomism

Can we talk about the fact that Alicia Clark is so fucking on point. She literally looks like a normal teenager with the flannel and sneakers like she is 100% a legit teenager and not a fake as fuck movie style teenager wearing 10 inch high heels and a fucking Prada Gucci Chanel Mercedes Benz crop top and mini skirt ensemble she got at Paris fashion week, holding a hand bag 5 times more expensive than her Ivy League college tuition for the next year. God bless u all.

Guts over fear

Imagine you’re Jax’s unwanted daughter and you take a shot for Abel. 

(Requested) 

Your mother used to be one of SAMCRO’s most famous crow eaters, but never good enough, or friendly enough or sane enough  to be one of SAMCRO’s Old Ladies; That’s why it never made sense when she took you to live with your father, Jax Teller. You remembered the cold night you and you mom stopped at TM, and you also remembered the long talk her, Gemma, Clay and Jax held, while you were on the picnic table, being stared at by Chibs and Bobby.

If she’s anything like her mother, it meas trouble.” You heard them whisper as you felt so insecure and tiny; Like a mouse. 

Your mother left the clubhouse stumbling and almost falling twice, you figured out it was  because she was a bit drunk, coming from work and all. She earned the bread as a stripper in the famous Jelly Bean, but now she had to go on a road tour with his boss, also, your step father. 

“Guess what?!” She said, never sounding so excited. “He said yes! Jax said it was okay for you to stay here!” She smiled at you and hugged you, rain dripping all over her body, standing taller than you because of her 10 inch heels, the smell of cheap perfume mixed with even cheaper vodka and the lowest of the lowest of weed. 

You may have been young, but not stupid. He didn’t wanted you there, and you were used to the idea. Your whole life your mother had been telling you that you’d have been the product of a crazy part in her life, and that your father knew about you, yet, he didn’t wanted anything to do with you. 

Jackson was staring at both of you, standing near the picnic table, Old Lady in hand and beer in another one. The cute brunette was holding a baby, maybe a four year old boy, looking a bit preoccupied and proud. Gemma, your grandmother, was looking at your mother like she had the plague, crossing her arms along her chest and puckering her lips with disdain. 

“Mom…” You said to your mother, looking up at her. “Just a week, right? Not more?” She smiled at you, playing with your hair and handing you your backpack. 

“Sure, sweetheart. You just wait!” She said already walking out of TM, you following close, your stepfather waiting for her on the car. “We’ll come back with tons and tons of money” She said sound excited. You faked a smile and waved her goodbye as your stepfather care drove into the street, under the rain. 

You turned around just to see Jackson and the woman, who later you’ve learned name was Tara, go back into the clubhouse, Clay and Gemma following close. 

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When you went into the clubhouse, you could tell why your mother said she really liked SAMCRO. The whole place was so warm, they were like a really big family, caring for each other and loving each other. 

Except you.

And you understood that; You were never a part of it. Your mother was thrown away when they knew she was pregnant and Jax didn’t want to be a part of it. He was still young and he had been cheated on Tara, and Chibs and Bobby were right. Your mother was all troubles. 

As you walked in, a blonde, dumb looking kid, a few years older than you came closer to you, a kutte on his body but not fully patched in. A Prospect.

“Hey!” He said, gladly. “Can i help you with…”

“Prospect!” You heard Jax yell, sending shivers down your spine as you turned around. “She can do it alone.” A single death look from the VP and the Prospect was out of sight. You sighed and grabbed your bags, turning around, speaking to your father for the first time in your life. 

“Uhm. Where do i put my stuff?” He looked at you, disdain in his eyes, as the room went silent. 

“Second door to the right.” And it was all he said to you for the next few days. 

The week your mother said became a week and two days, then a week and a half, and before you knew it, three weeks had passed and she was nowhere to be seen. You were boiling with rage and at nights, you were crying yourself to sleep.

There you were, being throwned around like your mother did when she was SAMCROS sweet butt. Chibs bossed you around, Juice spilled things over just for you to clean, Bobby, Piney and Clay ignored the hell out you. Not a day went by without Happy telling you hurtful things and Opie just made faces at your presence. Jax still didn’t talked to you. 

They were ignoring you so hard you were starting to doubt if you still existed. 

Everyone was out at TM, having a good time, in the weekly BBQ your grandma offered. Feeling sick of being inside, reclusive in your room, you decided to walk out, book in hand and sit down next to Abel’s playground, secretly looking at him play with Opie’s kids; He was your baby brother after all. 

Everything happened so fast after that. The usual roar of engines started to arrive at TM and it was too late when they realized they were Mayans. Panicking you got up, looking for shelter as the bullets started flying around; Everyone screaming and running in different directions, people falling to the floor and the sound of childrens crying.

Childrens!” You thought to yourself dropping the book and going back on your steps to the playground.

“Abel!” You heard both, Tara and Jax scream. Following their gaze you saw Abel crying on the playground, too scared to even move; in the distance, a young Mayan running over to him. “Oh my god, Abel!”

“Abel!” you started screaming, running over to him and knocking him down between your arms, the second the young Mayan, probably a prospect shooted. You took 3 in your back as you fell to the ground, Abel still crying in your arms. 

“(Y/N)!” You heard someone yell but the stinging and pain was too much for you. The world went black in a matter of seconds.

You were gone. 

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The sound of beeping woke you up, finally. Your head was a wreck and you were sure you couldn’t move. 

Maybe it was all a dream, you thought, but deep down you knew it wasnt true. You were in a hospital bed, with bands all over your chest and a killer headache, along with a double killer chest pain. You opened your eyes and closed them for a second before opening them again, to take in the sight. 

The complete white room had the TV on; Tom & Jerry re- runs on the screen, a bit loud for your condition.

“(Y/N)” you heard but no one was there. You look down to see Abel smiling up at you, a band around his tiny head and scratches all over his face. You smiled down at him, glad that he was safe.

“Hey, dude.” You whispered friendly, wanting to mess his hair but your arm couldn’t take the pain. 

“Daddy!” He screamed cheerfully. 

Jax came out of the bathroom running, gun in hand, looking everywhere and relaxing when he saw just the both of you. 

Tara came into the room seconds later, in full uniform and injures on her face and hand. She looked at you on the bed and flashed a small smile, looking at Abel and Jax; Your father couldn’t look you in the eyes. 

“A-Abel…” she stuttered, licking her lips. “Let’s get (Y/N) some cookies, i bet she’s hungry.” the doctor looked at you and smiled again. “Dr. Namid will be here in a few minutes”

You nodded, still confused. 

“She slept a lot.” The kid said, grabbing her mom’s hand and smiling as she lifted him up. “Goodbye big sister!” Abel said waving at you and exiting the room with Tara. Tears were starting to spill out of your eyes when you were left alone with your father. 

That’s when you took notice of the bouquets of flowers all over the room. All of them bright colors. Even a beautiful single rose, with a card saying: “From Gemma..” You stared at them, more confused than ever and looked at Jax.

“Jax, what is this?” You said grabbing the flower and placing it on your lap. 

“The flowers are from the club. Chibs, Juice and Happy stay the night every day. It’s me, Clay and Opie who stay during the day. I’m telling you, the parking lot looks like a freaking Harley Davidson festival.” You laughed a little. “ The rose is from my mom. She came by this morning. She’s been here all this time.”

“All this time?” you blinked.

“You’ve been in a coma for a week.” He said, suddenly feeling ashamed and sitting down on the chair next to your bed. It fell on you like a ton of bricks.

“I’m glad Abel is alright…” 

Jax nodded, biting his lip and looking at you, his face already red, a single tear falling down his cheek. You gasped and covered your mouth. That was new. 

“I’m sorry…” He whispered. “I’m sorry i walked away. I didn’t wanted to be a father, i was 17.” He shook his head. “I was scared to death and it was easier to blame it on your mom” You listened to every single one of his words. “When you showed up, i hated you. I hated you because you reminded me of all my weakness, how much of a coward i was to leave a pregnant woman. I hated you because you reminded me of the father i could have been.”

“Jax…”

He grabbed your hand and kissed it. 

“Would you forgive me?” And you saw it. Right there, on the inside of his arm, opossite position to the memorial tattoo he had for John, it was your name in fresh ink. You gasped and slowly nodded your hand, letting your hands run free and feeling relieved for the first time in months. “You saved my son.  You saved this family, (Y/N). You’ll never be alone again.” He gulped and looked at both of your hands. “I don’t blame you if you think i’m an asshole. I don’t blame you if you think that any of us is an asshole, we acted like one. I’m trying to say…i’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, (Y/N)” 

“Jax, I…” you wanted to say something when he stood up and kissed your forehead slowly.

“It’s Dad…” He whispered, caressing your head. “I’m your Dad, and you’re a Teller” you locked gazes and both of you softly smiled. “I love you kid.”

“I love you too, Dad.” 

gothraccoon  asked:

if i stand inside the hat while the rim is resting on your head, and say im wearing 10 inch heels so that my head is touching the top of the inside part of the hat, which one of us is wearing the hat?

i would die before i let someone in my hat so it would be you

To girls afraid of stripping but want to:

Do it. I’ve learned so much.
I learned how to walk in 10 inch heels like a queen. I learned that every pound on my body can jiggle and move in the most glorious ways. I’ve learned not to be afraid of being taller than a man in new sexy 6inch heels. I learned that it’s not me against every single girl in the club fighting for male attention, it’s us girls standing up for one another and crushing the patriarchy by glorifying one another. I learned how to deal with entitled men, and how to put assholes in their place. I’ve learned how to make a man squirm by just shaking my ass. I finally understood that no matter how beautiful I am, I am not everyone’s cup of tea, which is fine. If I’m not his type, I’ll be the next guys. I learned to appreciate the good nights, and how to survive the really bad nights (because there will be some). Most of all, don’t hesitate to become a stripper because you will learn how to fall in love with yourself.

anonymous asked:

I've always identified as lesbian since I am female and I like females. But lately I have started to wonder if there is something to the genderists idea of gender. I hate my female body and want to look as masculine as possible, and I have always only been attracted to women. I have started to wonder if I am a transman after all. I don't know and I'm confused!!!

Hi, there! 

Okay, so, first of all, I’d like to say that a lot of lesbians find that they do not experience gender the way they’re “supposed to”. In fact, gender-nonconformity in childhood is directly linked to homosexuality (in other words, gay people have been proved to be more gnc [x]). Society has created a unreachable mold for womanhood, and equated it to femininity. If you don’t match femininity, then it makes sense you wouldn’t feel like you have any claim to womanhood.

Society has equated womanhood to high heels, make up, dresses, long hair, for a really long time. It’s not even just accessories: society also equals womanhood to a certain body type (usually thin) and a certain behavior (quiet, submissive, caring, nurturing, etc).

All these ideas of womanhood are what create our concept of the feminine gender. If the genderists have it right, then that would mean that if you don’t match these stereotypes for femininity, then you are automatically not a woman. Well then, what about butch dykes? Are they not women at all? Does that mean that the moment that women stopped wearing dresses/skirts-only and started wearing pants we all transitioned into men?

Does that mean that every time a woman cuts off her hair, she instantly becomes trans?

The “genderist idea” is that gender performances (aka the way you present yourself) dictates your very core, and that every performance you do or do not put on makes you either woman or non-woman. 

Well here’s the thing that the genderist idea completely disregards: you have experiences which are unique to you as a woman. A lot of women hate their bodies, hate their breasts, their femaleness. I know I did, for a very long time. And I fell down the rabbit hole of “if you just try real hard, and believe really strong, then you’ll become whatever you want to become”. The genderist idea asserts that being a woman is not inherent, but made up, that it can be co-opted. 

Well, think about yourself. Think about periods, for example. Do you know any men who personally understand periods? Do you know any men who get what women go through when they have to go out of the house on their periods? Do you know any men who understand the experience of cramps, PMS? 

I wouldn’t think so. Those are womanly experiences, female experiences. No man can begin to understand what it is to be on one’s period, because that is a biological reality that only females go through.

So forget all the frills and lace, all the make up and hair care… Focus on your core functions. The way your body looks, the way it behaves… No man could ever understand that. Nothing about you is manly, because you were born female. In fact you are female since you before you were conceived, since you were but a sperm. (x

Female and therefore womanly experiences are not about how much make up you do or do not wear: it’s about the body you were born as. 

Genderism does a very disingenuous thing: it acts with the patriarchy to separate gender non conforming women from other women. It others us, tells us we’re wrong, weird. So of course you couldn’t be a woman when you don’t wanna wear pink and high heels, right? Because women are born wanting to wear pink and high heels, right? Women literally come out of the womb ready to throw on a barely there dress, 10 inch heels, and be consumed by the male gaze, right? 

But do you actually believe that? Look at the history of women, look at the women in your life, look at strong women. Do you actually believe that the main factor of all those overlapping experiences are clothing preferences? Do you sincerely think that looking masculine would completely separate you from us?

I’d argue not even transitioning would separate you from us.

I’m not saying this as a radical, forget all about that. I’m saying this as a person who has started “socially transitioning”. I’m saying this as someone who fell into transgenderism and regrets it daily… Transgender ideology harms gender-nonconforming women. It tells us that our bodies are commodities, that our bodies are up for grabs. It tells us that the experiences we have had as women are useless, and shouldn’t even be brought up or named.

Do you sincerely believe that hating your body + dressing masculine = you not being a woman?

Do you understand that female self hatred is just femaleness? 90% of women hate their own bodies (X) So why are you different from all those other women?

Because you dress “like a man”? Why are comfortable clothes considered “manly”? Why can’t women be comfortable AND stay women?

Why is short hair and plaid “a man’s thing”? 

Look, I don’t know you, but I assume you don’t actually believe that. 

The path to transitioning is one with endless consequences, you might not fully be able to grasp right now. Before you go down it, I please that you please reconsider. Your worth and value as a woman and as a human being is not defines by your clothing style. Your worth and value as a woman is not diminished by gender-nonconformity. 

I beg you please take care of yourself, please understand that your experiences as a female who does not conform to femininity are important. And they are not so othering. A bunch of other women feel the same way or have felt the same way. I recommend you search for us, because we are right there. The dykes, and the “are you a man or a woman”, and the detransitioned, and the pariahs of society. We’re here, we exist. 

You don’t need to turn your back on yourself as a woman and as female in order to be happy. That path does not lead to happiness. All it leads to is a deeper, more acute sense of self hatred, except then everything you hate about yourself is highlighted by the fact that all your friends agree with you and want to help you get rid of it. Your body is not something you own, it is something you are.

Being female is not an afterthought to you, it is everything. It has shaped all of your experiences since you were born. 

Wishing you were a man is part of your life as a woman. Most women will wish that, because being a man = power, safety, stability. Men have it better in so many social aspects, of fucking course we wouldn’t settle for being lesser than. 

But let me tell you, you don’t need to transition in order not to settle, all you need to do is understand your own worth as a woman and a person. Real feminism is a great help with that. Please stay questioning and critical, don’t let the gender trend ruin you. You deserve better.

[Here’s a very good talk about why it is that transgenderism is harmful to women/females.]

[And here’s another similar post I’ve written on this subject]

I hope I was able to at least get you questioning. 

TL,DR: Don’t go into this without kicking and screaming for yourself. Fight for who you are, there is life as a butch lesbian. Presenting masculine is not against yourself as a human being. It just is. Women can be masculine and still be women. Womanhood does not equal femininity. Feminine and masculine are genders not sex. Womanhood is defined by femaleness (aka XX chromosomes). You have always been a woman/girl. Don’t let genderists steal that away from you, there is strength in being a gnc woman. Also plz check these out [x][x][x].

/Mod A

I don’t understand why, for a girl to be considered badass and strong in books and movies, she has to be tomboyish, not wear make up and not like girly things??

Girls should be allowed to put on lipstick and flowery dresses then conquer the world by crushing the necks of their enemies under their 10 inch heels.

anonymous asked:

jim and spock both take to wearing heels and bones is so mad bc there are no sensible doctor heels until one day theres a plain box on his desk and theyre platform heels that "evenly distribute weight minimizing pain" and bones has never been so happy (chapel cant stop grinning, she was just as happy when uhura gave her a pair last christmas)

imagine bones just loving the sound the shoes make when they walk across the hard floor

he tries explaining to chapel that it just feels professional 

Submission (GD smut )

Sry for the long wait ! I’m currently very busy ! Don’t worry I didn’t forget your requests guys ! Please be patient with me! I hope you enjoy this requested GD Smut !
———————————————-
You tightened the handcuffs around , your boyfriend , Jiyong’s hands and he only growled « Baby , please know that I’m going to fuck you up after this . »
You only chuckled and walked in front of him in your black , 10 inch , stiletto heels , you black , lacy panties and your black corset with red laces . You bit your cherry red lips and ran a hand through your black hair , while you slowly lowered yourself onto his lap .
You straddled him between your legs and kissed him . He immediately tried to dominate the kiss and you pulled away and licked your lips « Nuh uh .. Don’t be a bad boy now . » you kissed his jaw . He only growled and you heard him trying to break through the handcuffs so he could touch you and fuck you senseless , but this wasn’t going to work since they were locked and you had the key. The handcuffs weren’t that sturdy , but you hoped they would last long enough for you to dominate him for a while .
You laughed and then got up so you were facing him while standing . You slowly started to undo the laces to your corset and let it drop to the ground , so your upper body was no longer covered by the sexy black corset . Jiyong only licked his lips and tried to break through the handcuffs again , but his attempt failed yet again « Get these fucking things off me ! »
You smirked evilly and put a finger in your mouth innocently and then ran it all the way down from your mouth to your black , pink laced panties . Your hand slowly slid into your panties and you moaned « Ah~ »
Your hands slowly started to move and you let out a few more sexy squirms and noises . You turned around , bent over and slowly pulled your panties down , giving him a perfect view of your backside and then stepped out of them as soon as they reached your ankles .
« Oh , shit ! » you heard him say in a raspy voice .
You turned around and immediately saw a visible bilge form in his boxers and smirked yet again . You walked over to your shirtless , boyfriend after throwing your panties into a corner .
You ran your hands down his chest and licked it while doing so as well .
You pulled his boxers down a little and his erection immediately sprung from its confinement . Jiyong grunted and threw his head back .
You ran your left hand along his length while the other massaged his balls and licked the tip . He growled and you removed your hands and tongue . His eyes widened at you suddenly neglecting his manhood and you said in a sexy voice « What do you want me to do baby ? »
He bit his lip and looked away .
You asked again « Baby , what do you want me to do ? If you don’t tell me I can’t know » you acted innocent .
He stuttered « S-suck my dick .»
« What was that ? » you wanted to humiliate him and use your current dominant position a little more .
« I want you to suck my dick . » he replied a few moments later .
« And where are your manners ? » you looked at him superiorly.
« Please , suck my dick » he chuckled and shook his head « This is so humiliating »
You wrapped your lips around his dick and started bobbing your head up and down , deep throating him every now and then . You felt him twitch in you mouth and heard him moan . You immediately stopped sucking his dick and looked him in the eye « You’re not coming without my allowance .»
He gave you an angry expression « (Y/N) , you’re taking this too far . Are you sure you want to do this ? » Normally you’d be scared , but since he was tied up , what did you have to be scared of ?
« Do what ? » you pulled his hair back after you got up and ran your hand though his blond , messy hair .
« That’s it , (Y/N) . » he started tugging at the handcuffs like crazy and you could see the sweat on his forehead .
You walked in front of him again and stood in front of your bedroom bed « It’s no use you know ? » and held up the key that you had placed on the bed .
« Well see » he smiled and continued with his attempts to free himself . What a wonderful sight , you thought , Jiyong , in a chair , handcuffed and forced to be submissive .
Suddenly , you heard a loud cracking sound that ripped you out of your thoughts . You only saw a strong , tall and muscular figure towering over you and not a second later you were pushed on the bed face first .
« My turn ! » you only heard a sexy voice whisper into your ear , causing it to tingle « I’m going to fuck you senseless , (Y/N)!»
He grabbed a fistful of your hair hand pulled it back , making your arch up into his direction and that gave him perfect access to your , now , exposed neck . He started kissing it roughly and sucked on one specific spot every now and then to leave a hickey . Your body was so hot … Angry Jiyong was a little scary , but so sexy . He released your hair and stepped back a little .
« Get on all fours » you heard him growl behind you .
You hesitated for a minute until he yelled angrily « Get on fucking all fours , (Y/N) ! Right now ! »
You immediately did what he said and got on all fours. The whole thing resulted in him pulling your hair back once again and him spanking you a little .
You squirmed and moaned , since you were probably enjoying this more than you were supposed to « Ah~ »
« Fuck , (Y/N) . This is a punishment ! » he pointed out from behind , while bringing another hand into your left butt cheek , leaving a stinging red mark on it . Suddenly he stopped and he pushed your body down on the bed .
« Ass up (Y/N) . You know the drill . » he hissed superiorly from behind you . You did as you were told and earned a satisfied chuckle from him .
Suddenly you felt him aggressively pound his member into you « Ah~!»
« Bad girls don’t get foreplay and (Y/N) you were a very bad girl » he whispered sexily into your ear and started to roughly thrust into you . Thrust … after … Thrust … after … Thrust . The air was filled with moans and the noises your sweaty bodies made as they met up .
You started to slowly reach your high . Jiyong sensed this and immediately pulled out , leaving you unsatisfied .
« Jiyong !» you whined.
« Tell me what you want , baby ? » he teased you .
« You know what I want ! » you hissed impatiently .
« If you don’t tell me , how can I know ?» he asked innocently .
« I want your dick in me » you said embarrassed .
« Manners ? » he just blurted out and started teasing your entrance with his dick .
« Please ! I want your fucking cock ! In me ! Right now ! And I want your delicious cock … To fuck me senseless ! Please » you just shouted out .
Jiyong was kind of surprised since he would never have expected that and he did as you wished .
Once again after a few rough thrusts you were close to your high . Jiyong grunted « Don’t you dare cum without my permission baby . »
You whined « Please ! Please ! »
« Please what ? » he questioned .
« Let me cum ! Please » you moaned .
« Fuck , (Y/N) . I’m so close ! You better wait fucking for me ! » he thrusted in a few more times and both of you reached your high . He gave you permission , so you could reach your high , with him , at ease . He collapses beside you on the bed after pulling out of you , with the words « Sorry was I too rough ? »
You only smiled and kissed him and that was his answer .

anonymous asked:

my god hinata wearing 10 inch hooker heels to practice and not missing a single step or tripping up like maybe he was born for looking fine as hell while spiking the ball

Imagine the entire team in assorted heels with Yachi and Kiyoko wearing light up heelies.

when I look at myself and despise what I see, I say
“it’s nothing personal, we’re meant to hate ourselves, right?
we’re meant to wish we were thinner, or had smaller thighs.”
we’re meant to tear ourselves down bit by bit
until the only bit left is the envy
and the part that can’t sleep at night because we know that we will never be pretty

but do we need to be merely pretty when we can be pretty smart, pretty funny, pretty kind?
our lives are controlled by five letters that have no where near the amount of worth as one smile, one laugh
one sign of happiness that screams, “I am not the pretty me.
I am the me that is beauty, that is grace, that is happy.
I am the me that doesn’t need glossy red lips to be successful,
that doesn’t need 10 inch heels to show that I mean every step I take.”

because my worth isn’t measured by the side of my waist
and how long I can love has no correlation to the length of my eyelashes
my kindness will never fit into the size 6 jeans I wish i could wear
and my intelligence won’t be coated in the layers of foundation that hide who I truly am
and that’s okay

I know the fire behind my eyes won’t be dulled by words such as “ugly” or “fat”
and the beating of my heart won’t stop if I can’t see the ribs that encase it

and when my daughter asks me when she’ll get pretty, I’ll tell her the same thing I told you all
“don’t settle for pretty when you can be anything you’ve ever wanted to be.
just settle for happy.”

The Other: Part 2

…‘Cause what I feel is real

I could hear three things.

Beyoncé, varied chatter, and Larry’s calming French accented voice.

I should be appreciating all three but what’s in front of me forbids that. Long, sleek Malaysian hair. Manicured, acrylic nails with Hello Kitty jewels embedded on their plastic top. Chiseled, glasses ridden faces–mascara not washed away by pre-tears. Hour shape glass bodies and perfect skin under made up faces–flawless made up faces, excuse me.

Yeah, I’m not really in the best mood at the moment. With all these tight dresses and screwed faces around me. It’s like all the women come to this dinner to compete for the men’s wandering eye. They have dates. Everyone does. But they’re not date dates I’m guessing with how many of females have already walked up to Larry twisting the ends of their hair–I’m surprised it didn’t knot–and biting their lip, almost draining blood. I’m pretty sure most of these people aren’t even dancers. They’re just fiends looking for a grind and a body to take back to their place. How the hell do they even get in? It’s such a tight event. Connections, maybe? Whatever networking they do daily is amazing because hardly anyone knows about this annual get together if they’re not engrossed in the dance world. These women were literal vixens. Bria Myles, Daphne Joy type 10s with 6-inch heels and asses you could balance red, house party cups on.

Then, there’s me. I’m a good bra size and my jeans don’t come in the smallest but I’m definitely not packing anything like these women are. My makeup probably looks awful, I have a extra pair of eyes on my face, and I’m totally barefoot at the moment–still limping–while girls are taking literal strolls with skyscraper heels, some of them up to Larry’s height even. I was like a shrimp in a sea full of sharks. Totally out of the loop. I mean, there were girls that looked a least a little like me but they were all on the other side of the room doing what everyone actually came here to do. Dancing. All of the busty, connection, video vixen women were over on our side, pinching Larry and Laurent’s cheeks, telling them how cute their accents are.

Laurent was eating it all up. Even with his date in the premises, he spit game like it was just another day, eyeing the women like they were hunks of meat on china. I playfully rolled my eyes but it was more out of sheer hilarity than anything else. The girls were giggling after every–corny–joke and cooing like a bunch of puppies. The best part had to be how much Laurent flaunted his relation to Beyoncé–every single time the DJ played one of her tracks. And, how much his audience swallowed it whole. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t entertaining.

What wasn’t entertaining was watching the other twin. My date. Larry Nicolas.

He looked the upmost uninterested while chatting but with him being the person he is, he did. I hung around for a while saving him when a girl got too close or tried to slyly slip a number–like I intimidated anyone–but after some time of resting on my naked feet, I decided to find a seat. He begged to come accompany me but I refused his request. I couldn’t let him risk his fun for my fatigue.

And, that’s where we’re at now.

Me. Sitting in a spot not too far from my date, watching him mingle with friends and brush off vixens. Perfect night. From time to time, I would see him turn and search for me but I would always pull out my phone in attempt not to look too helpless or bored. Even though I actually am a little of both. He’d caught me once though. I had been admiring his frame from behind, loving the way his pants hugged his behind and relaxed just after his thighs. They looked amazing on him, especially the sleek, black belt wrapped around his tiny waist.

While I eyed them, I noticed his hips beginning to wiggle lightly. Furrowing my eyebrows, I shot a look up to find him grinning at me with a raised eyebrow. His lip pushed between his teeth–as mine receded–before he licked his lips and fluttered his lashes, knowingly. My face was flushed in a matter of seconds.

I avoided even glancing his way for the rest of my time alone due to me never wanting to feel that flushed feeling again. Well…maybe I did just a tad. The butterflies that came with it felt warm as they heated my organs and rested at the bottom of my stomach. It was something I hardly got–intensely–when it came to Larry.

I was glad when real music began to play and the dancers started doing their thing. I couldn’t refrain from taking a few pictures through my phone. Maybe I could transfer the flicks to my computer and edit some when I got home. With the thought embedded in my mind, I couldn’t let it go, even if I tried, so when I found tiny arms pushing through a couple of people to head to the front of the giant circle everyone had created, I didn’t second think the action. My ambition switch had been flipped on just that quickly.

“Excuse.” I mumbled, snaking my way between bodies and squeezing my petite frame towards the corner section. “Sorry.”

Hopping, I forced my way through a tall dude and his date, apologizing for barging and turned around smiling at the sight. Of course. I should have expected them to be apart of the festivities if no one else.

I saw the afros before anything.

They’d already assembled their little group of competition along with an agreement with the DJ to play some of the songs off their IPad–I doubt he would listen. They were watching somebody dance at the moment. A bboy. I knew he wouldn’t get any shouts of approval from the twins. They were all about musicality while they claimed bboys were about anything but. This one seemed pretty good though. He had amazing control and along with his complex moves, he still managed to stay on beat even with his flares and windmills. I chortled as Laurent began to do windmills himself. He could hardly get a leg up in his pants.

That’s when I looked over to Larry’s eyes wandering across the room, directly towards me. A feel of shock brushed the inside of my stomach before I gave him a small smile and raised my phone. He squinted as his brows coiled. Looking down at his already adrenalized brother, he blinked, annoyed, before turning back to me.

I chuckled, pressing my lips together and raising my camera to my face, snapping a pretend photo. He caught my drift instantly, relaxing his features and straightening his posture. I smiled at his natural, photogenic face and body language. With a tilt to his frame, a thinning to his lips, and the relaxing of his eyebrows, he was perfect. I usually preferred candids but the single shot resonated with me as soon as I took it. Then again, it was Larry. Everything made a mark when it came to him in regards to me–in more than a thousand ways. The fact that it probably wasn’t the same vice versa crumbled everything to dust and soon my attention was on Laurent’s backbend, my mind looking for an escape mechanism–a distraction. When the crowd went wild, I knew I’d found it.

But being that I still felt the burning feeling of Larry’s eyes branding the side of my face minutes later, it proved to be a facade.

Don’t look.

Don’t look.

Eyes forward.

My better judgment went back and forth with my betraying subconscious, battling against the…sensible thing to do. To get caught in Larry’s misleading–miraculous–and mixxy–enchanting–trance or to stay in the safe zone where I didn’t risk getting my feelings hurt. The same imagination that was screaming to fall into Larry’s trap was the exact same one that would be screaming how foolish I was for thinking he was actually interested in me seconds later. It was cold and sly and loved to see me seethe but then again loved to give me hope for something I doubted was actually there.

My better judgment has the thinnest strings but holds onto me as securely as it can. His burning eyes are pinching the imaginary material with intensity.

It wasn’t until I found his colossal figure in my left peripheral vision that I noticed he’d totally burned the dainty threads a long time ago without my consent.

I acted as if I didn’t see him as he trudged his way over, his bouncing stride making me nervous. By the way his feet doubled speed, it didn’t look like he was thinking about stopping. And, with him coming from the circle, I knew eyes were most definitely following his frame. He knows how much I hate attention but he’s Larry so his surroundings don’t phase his actions. He would do backflips over my way if he could. The eyes on him are disregarded and irrelevant in his mind while they’re a trigger for a panic attack in mine.

“Baby!” I shut my eyes so tight I could feel the lids ripping. “Alex!” He whined.

Pressing my lips together, I prayed no one was looking at me. That he wasn’t looking at me. Maybe he knew someone else named Alex. That could be a possibility. One of his boys. I mean, he calls his crew members baby all the time, this wouldn’t be a jump.

“Al, don’t ignore me.”

Turning to him, I caught his frown and declining eyebrows before peeking at the line of people giving us smoldering glares. Well…giving me smoldering glares. As expected.  

Sighing, I looked back up to his gleeful smile. His face lines could serve as tiny homes for flower petals and his cheekbones could hold miniature pebbles without the slightest disruption. I smiled at the thought of the visionary. Even with the absurd image, he still held the same beauty I always marked him with.

“I’m…not, Larry.” I peeped as he playfully yanked one of my arms. I felt his fingers knead into my hot skin before he moved his way up to one of shoulders and spun my body, all in one movement. I didn’t refuse but I couldn’t help but to be a bit skeptic. It was just an odd action.

Well, until his palms engrossed over my hips and he pushed me forward so that we could lightly sway to the music playing. I began to turn around but he beat me to the next gesture, leaning into my personal space. His lips brushed my cheek before his cheek replaced the warm breeze of his breath. “Relax.” He reassured. I sighed as he curled his arms around my body and engulfed my worries of the immensely painful glares that cut my skin just a second ago. It was like his presence washed away the bad. Drained the worrisome. “Good.”

I didn’t even notice that we were the only ones dancing in couple formation until tall dude and his date decided to join us.

My dress served as the distress cushion between his pelvis and my backside, which I mentally thanked the heavens above for creating such fabric. Not saying I expected Larry to be…rubbed a certain way when it came to me but…the thought of it alone was one that I’d be too embarrassed to consider. Lets just say I’m not in the mood to make a fool out of myself yet again tonight.

“Shoulders down.” He whispered.

“Huh?” I chirped in response.

He rubbed his cheek against mine before kneading his chin into the middle of my deltoid. “Your shoulders tense. Relax.”

“Oh.” Slowly lowering my tightened muscles, I stuttered, “S-sorry.”

He kissed my bare skin, I guess accepting my unnecessary regret. I closed my eyes trying my hardest not to flinch against him. When he pivoted towards my face and mushed his lips against my cheek, I knew I’d been caught.

“Sorry again.” I clucked out.

He shook his head. “No sorry, Alex.” He huffed. “We just dance.”

I sighed. “Don’t remind me.”

He chuckled. “You don’t want for dance with me?” I could feel his fingers drumming against hips.

Crossing my arms, I shrugged, popping his head up with the movement. “Of course I do.” I nibbled on my lip. “But, so do they.” My eyes moved over to a cult of girls that held the nastiest group of snarls I’d every seen etched across someone’s lip. It twitched and I could’ve sworn one of them was damn near growling.

“Who?”

I knew he would follow my eyes sooner or later so I didn’t give him a verbal response. When he caught on, the sound of air being sucked between teeth animatedly dragged in my ear in a long, loud manner.

“Oh.”

I chuckled watching all of the deep grimaces turn into bright, boastful smiles once Larry’s eyes latched on them. His didn’t leave.

“They scum.”

“Larry!” I elbowed his side, making him huff out a breath of pain into my ear. “Don’t be rude.”

He shrugged against me. “Is true. I don’t like how they look at you. Like they better than you or something like this. You step on them if you want to.” I smiled at his kindish words. “But, you too nice for this so you never speak for them. Girls hate so much on you.”

“Usually because of you.” I groaned, making him smile against my skin. He was nudging his nose into my cheek like he’d done in the bathroom stall. The warm welcome back my stomach experienced made me smile with him.

“You stay with me though.”

“You give me no choice.”

He chipped my cheek, playfully. “You right. 'Cause you mine.”

I rolled my eyes at myself due to the fact that my body turned to a complete, oozy mess when the form of endearment slipped from his lips. Every part of me knew his definition of the word was miles away from my own.

Mushing his face away from me, I quickly changed the subject.

“It’s crazy how bold you are.” I whispered watching Larry’s lead take effect. Everyone had grabbed a body and now the floor was filled with dozens upon dozens of dancers, all of them either swaying gently or showing their expertise. I smiled catching sight of Laurent housing with a random chick on the other side of the room. He was doing all the work while she stood in one place watching his fast feet circle her.

“Bold?” Larry’s voice popped me back into my own present situation.

“Yeah,” I replied, laying my head back on his shoulder. His hands danced across my hips and stopped at the bottom of my heated stomach. “I would never do something like that.” I chirped, pressing my lips together.

“Like what?”

“You know. This.” I gestured at our position and the people around us. “Starting the dancing. It’s like starting a clap. Nerve wrecking and tedious.”

He huffed against my ear. “You just do it, Al.” He challenged. “And, is not bold or…whatever word you say. Why me dancing with you have to be bold?“

My mind screamed what I wanted to say but I decided to disregard her choices. She never lets me win.

I nodded. “I have hi-def lenses and no shoes on.” I chortled. “Not really a great choice.”

He pecked my cheek once before pushing his head in the heat of my neck and then leaning back up kiss the spot again. “Greatest choice.”

I bit my lip slowly moving my hands over his and leaning my head on his chest. I could hear his heartbeat over the music gifting me with momentary serene. When I felt him squeeze my hips, my eyes shot up towards his waiting stare. His eyes were soft and his lip tucked between his teeth with a gentle nibble. I sighed as he swallowed, moving my attention down his long neck. My lips tingled as I licked away their screaming urge to touch the clear skin. Everything blurred for a couple seconds, including the music. I could tell we were no longer on beat as Larry’s hands squeezed the living hell out of my waist, still swaying absently. I was almost delirious in his hold; my focus fully embedded in everything…him.

My sense of touch and taste numbed only leaving me with my escalated sight, smell and hearing. I could almost feel his minted breath on my nose hairs as I watched his lips move.

“Dieu, pourquoi je ne peux pas juste vous embrassez? (God, why can’t I just kiss you?)”

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked back up to his perplexed expression. His brows had crinkled and lips warped in a twisted manner. I could clearly see his tongue poking the inside of his cheek making me swallow back my first words in exchange for the proper ones. “Huh?” I questioned, breathlessly.

He stared at me, letting his chest deflate along with my head that rested on the cavity. That’s when I realized how fast his heartbeat was.

Leaning up, I turned in his arms. “You said something?” I asked.

His mouth opened to answer but nothing escaped him. The absence of speech surprised me but my loss of his eyes frightened me more. Placing my hands on his chest, I rubbed the plate before hugging his torso. “La-”

“Alex! Dance with me!” I didn’t even get to acknowledge the voice before a hand yanked my forearm. The same grip curled around my hip and soon I was flying across the room toward the middle of the floor. “You stay with me brother too long. Come on, dance!” I groaned as Laurent’s eyes latched onto mine and soon I was in the same predicament as his last girl, watching him circle me while he danced around my lagged frame.

I didn’t hesitate to look Larry’s way, finding him in the same place I’d left him. His arms were still outstretched while his mouth hung open, his jaw hanging in an irritated position. I frowned as he dropped his arms to his sides and looked my way, his eyes rolling, harshly. Shrugging, I smiled weakly and mouthed a simple, “He’s your brother.” before raising my brows, knowingly. Larry’s grim expression lightened automatically before he flicked Laurent off and began to make his way off the dance floor. I giggled, nodding my understanding as he pointed towards the seats and made his exit.

“You’re wrong.” I said, crossing my arms as Laurent finally stopped in front of me. He reached for my hands and threw them down to my sides.

“He have you so much. Please. He be fine.” Placing his broad hands on my bare shoulders, he pouted. “Now we dance.”

“That was rude, Laurent. You owe your brother an apology.”

He rolled his eyes and moved his hands down my arms. Moving close to me, he bended his head so that I was peering through lashes to see his batting portals. “You with my brother so much. So much. He have you everywhere, all the time and you leave me for this guy with no problem. I steal you away one time and I bad guy?” His hands hit his chest as he widened his eyes.

“You could have asked!”

He shrugged. “No. This make Larry mad more. More fun for me.” He chirped, grinning.

I huffed, shaking my head at him.

“So, you dance with me?” He dragged, twisting his body.

I glared at him, watching his innocent facade come to play. The warm smile that stretched his cheeks turned my heart to gook. He knew he had me from the moment he’d dragged me over here. Laurent wasn’t stupid. “Fine.” I breathed, laughing when he jumped up. “This one.”

“One.” He stressed beginning to sway and grabbing my hands.

I followed letting the music take over my limbs as I looked towards the table Larry had gestured towards seconds ago. When I didn’t see him, my frown came immediately. Discarding of the what ifs starting to take over my subconscious, I gave my full attention to an almost delirious Laurent. Closing my eyes, I let the melody lift my arms and move my legs as it pleased. The night got better but my thoughts just had more to rest on.

Larry’s words and most importantly, the hesitance that came with them.

**

Not one dancer left before the music was shut off so the departure was a bit of a hassle but we managed. Larry made sure to keep me in his hold and my heels in his hands while we weaved in and out of must, chatter, and after party invites to get to an inhale-safe environment. He’d noticed my glasses fogging as soon as we stepped into the hallway of the hotel, giving him the hint that we should move quickly if we wanted untainted lungs.

I argued when he began to convince me towards the car–his body hunched so I could hop on his back–hating the fact that he was leaving so early for me. Larry and early nights don’t mix. He’s always the last one to go home. The last one to pass out. And, definitely the last one to wake up the next morning.

My phone said 2:00 in the morning. That’s equivalent to 4:00 in the afternoon to Lar–and his brother as well–so I didn’t want to steal him from his usual.

But with my protests came his denial, of course, and sooner than later, I found myself in the passenger seat of his car, my head on the fogged mirror and my eyes on his fluent, chiseled profile. His eyes were wide and watchful and his energy level on 10. I could tell by the way his jaw ticked and his eyes darted every which way as he leaned his chest against the steering wheel. He was like an energizer bunny.

I wasn’t restless myself but I could tell Larry and I were on two totally different definitions of awake. The blood rushing through his body was fueling off of adrenaline while my excitement was a very subtle one. I was on level 5. The very middle where my two options hung on a weak string waiting for the other to snap.

String 1: Pass out.

String two: Stare at a wall until I eventually pass out.

Whichever one snaps first depends on my surroundings. With a 6'4, feverish, clamorous, restless, buzzed Frenchman on my hands, string two seems to be winning at the moment. To be honest, I was a little buzzed as well. Larry’s turbulence wouldn’t be weighing down anytime soon so I’ve already begun preparing myself. Yes, mentally and physically. With Larry on a hunnit, you never know what you can get yourself into in his company.

But, for now, I left my thoughts to admiring. I’d gotten bored of his face–not really–since his jaw had relaxed to almost nothing leaving me to lower my attention to the contents of his unbuttoned collar. I could see his deepened collarbone that resembled the depths of the fucking Atlantic Ocean. He’d forced me to undo the confinement a long time ago, claiming it was almost cutting off his blood flow, before rushing back out to dance with his brother. I’m sure I looked like a soccer mom as I twisted the two top buttons a loose warning him to stay hydrated. I couldn’t help it. The sweat dripping down his forehead and the brutal rise and fall of his chest made me worry and in a matter of minutes I was forcing him to jug a cup or two before he left me with a juicy peck to the cheek and another sweaty one to spazz over.

That had been about a half an hour after our stolen moment we’d been thieved of by Laurent Bourgeois, himself. He loves to pop in when he’s not wanted. I bet you money he’d been patiently waiting on the side for the right time. For the dreamy look or the initiation of a lean in. Something he could terrorize and slip away from his brother with a tug or an "accidental” push. He lives to aggravate Larry so I wasn’t surprised that he came when he did.

What pulled me was Larry’s sudden change in…everything once those words escaped his lips. His voice was so light but then again, weighed with frustration and need. He almost looked guilty or remorseful when I turned to inspect him. To have two French best friends and to never learn French is about the dumbest thing I’ve ever considered acceptable so I have to blame myself for not being able to understand a word that escaped him. He’d said it so fast and I was too distracted by the distress etched into his brow to catch my favorites that I actually knew.

Chatte, pourquoi, chien, & Janvier.

I’m pretty sure none of those particular words popped up in such an…awkwardish situation but if possibilities were possible…

“So, who won tonight? You or Laurent?” I asked, leaning in the crook where the seat met the passenger door.

Larry smiled. “L-A-R-R-Y.” He spelled, cheerily.

I chuckled, watching him attempt to sign the letters. I’d taught him a while ago while we’d been watching Switched at Birth. Since my aunt works in the field, she forced me to take a couple of classes when I was younger. I can structure a few sentences here and there. When I began to translate–while Larry covered the subtitles–he damn near ripped off my fingers trying to get me to teach him something.

After while, I surrendered, teaching him the easiest lesson there is.

Learning your name.

He got it on the first try.

“I do it, good?” He questioned, biting his lip.

I nodded. “I’m surprised you even remember that. I haven’t watched that show in a while.”

He gasped. “You don’t keep up?!”

I chuckled. “No, Larry. Most of the time I’m networking.”

He groaned, leaning back in his seat and spreading a leg towards the door. With one hand on the wheel, he gesticulated with the other. “No talking about work. No camera. Nothing. We talk for Switch at Birth and this is it.”

I raised a brow at him. “I still should’ve brought my camera tonight.”

He huffed. “You no need camera unless you want to take picture of me. If you don’t take picture of me, is good the camera stay home.” He smiled my way before facing back towards the road.

My smile lightened a little. I caught the weakness of it in time so I could turn away from him.

“You have fun?” He asked. I could still hear the cheer in his voice giving me the hint that he didn’t catch my flaw a couple of seconds ago.

Nodding, I watched the top of trees fly by us. “Yeah, it was fun. After I got pass the cult’s evil eye, I started to actually enjoy myself.” Huffing, I shook my head. “So many girls came up to me asking to give you their numbers.” I frowned. “They’re in my clutch as.we.speak.”

“Why you keep them? Give me.”

I looked his way, blinking at his annoyed expression. When he widened his eyes, impatiently, I leaned down to reach for my purse.

“Here. You hit a record.” I slurred, dumping the slips in his hand. “15 bodies in one night. Go figure.”

The alcohol that was resting in my system had unlocked my caged thoughts. My mouth becomes reckless when I drink so when his eyebrows rose at my bitterness, I ignored it like he wasn’t even there, and turned back to the moving trees.

“Some offered a good time others promised a night you’ll never forget. You know how it goes.” I waved a hand his way. “I didn’t give any of them your number though. Not sure…if I should say you’re welcome or I’m sorry but whatever.”

I could hear the sound of something fluttering in the wind from behind, making me turn around. Looking down, I watched as Larry plucked a number and proceeded to drop them out his window one-by-one.

Screwing my nose, I turned watching the paper whip away into the darkness towards the derriere of the car. “Hey! I worked hard to stuff those! What are you doing?!”

Larry laughed looking at me before pinching another crumbled paper and curling it in his fist. “Why Laurent let you drink?” Rolling his eyes, he tossed the ball out the window. “Never again.”

I huffed and crossed my arms, turning back to my window. The silence of the car made me realize Larry hadn’t turned on any music since we’d left the place, which was more than a surprise because he never drove without his tunes. My stupid, romanticizing monster of a brain tried to convince me that my voice was enough for him but I flushed the thought, letting it result to a sour taste in my mouth.

Or maybe that’s bile.

“Al.” I heard his voice but didn’t respond or acknowledge him until his free hand lay atop my thigh.

I didn’t flinch, only looked at the mesmerizing sight and then turned back to the passing nature.

“Alex.”

I nodded to let him know I was listening.

“Why you don’t tell these girls you with me?” Again, my response experienced a delay but it wasn’t because I didn’t know the answer. I knew it wholly and consummately. I could’ve spit it at him before he even finished his interrogative statement. But, I didn’t because I’m a lovesick idiot that still cares about the feelings of a man that’s my condition. “Alexis?”

I stared at the rapid greenery a minute more before turning to Larry’s concerned profile. When he sensed my regard, he quickly pivoted my way, making sure he peered at the road here and there. His eyes were almost scary to meet being that they looked as if they knew what I was going to say next. Like, as soon as I parted my lips, he would cut me off and say the exact, same words in the exact same way with the exact, same tone in the exact, same manner.

I removed his hand from my thigh so I didn’t have to feel him take it away from me the second after I gave him my reason.

Turning his hand palm up, I began to slowly drag the tip of my middle finger over his lifelines.

He kept his eyes on my face.

“Because I’m not.” I voiced, looking up to his defeated expression. The transition between worrisome and defeatist was a quick and costly one. Costly because I immediately felt the guilt pooling in the middle of my chest when I placed his hand down and he weakly slid the limb across the separation between us that seemed a bit broader than before, both physically and mentally.

He didn’t say anything as we cruised down the road. Our minds were too deep in the gutter of regretted rejection and remorseful contrition to configure any sensible responses or commencement of conversation. I suddenly felt like a horrible person for telling the truth and not playing the part of the oblivious.

Fucking alcohol and its effective boost of confidence.

With the tension creating a pool of lava between us, a few blocks felt like an hour-long ride. I kept my hands in my lap–trying my hardest not to tuck them between my thighs–and my eyes forward, while Larry kept both of his palms curled around the wheel–probably keeping him from drumming. I wish he would’ve followed the rules of awkwardness and forced his eyes on the road but no. He didn’t. Why? Because he’s Larry and naturally he has to disobey everything that applies to the nature of apprehensiveness being that he’s not in the slightest apprehensive about anything.

Not a thing.

Leaving me with all the weird, eerie feelings of discomfort.

“You need my back?”

I hadn’t even noticed we’d pulled into a parking space until his voice spiked its way through my conscience. He’d already unbuckled his seatbelt and was waiting for my next move. The problem was, I didn’t have one.

“Uh,” I stalled, looking from him to my steps. “Y-yeah.” I stammered. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

He nodded, and before long I’d found my comfort spot again–my arms wrapped around his long neck while my legs occupied both his hands. He’d asked for my keys so I didn’t have to give up the bewitching smell that wafted pass my nose every time a breeze whiffed by. Acqua Di Gio by Armani never smelled better.

“Larry, I left my heels in the car.” I sighed. His head bobbed instantly giving me a mixture of his musk, his hair, and Armani all intertwined in one burst of heaven. My nostrils naturally flared as I watched him dangle my keys. When he plucked the right key from the chain on the first try, I smiled.

“Don’t worry.” He yawned, pushing his way into my home. Tossing my keys on the small counter table by my door, he urged me to pull the knob behind my back. I obeyed. “We get them in the morning.”

“You’re gonna come back and drop them off?” I asked, hopping off of him and immediately going to my hair to discard of the devil’s bobby pins seeping into my cranium. My eyes fluttered with each pull of a wretched hair accessory, stopping the imaginary screams coming from my scalp.

Larry looked back at me and smiled as he crossed the room towards my living room couch. He pulled a finger over the leather before flopping on it and starting to take off his shoes. “No, I spend the night tonight.”

When he looked down, my eyebrows furrowed into a swirl of concern and varied excitement. When his eyes connected back to mine, my features relaxed instantly.

“Oh.” I piped slowly placing the metal appliances curled in my clammy hand onto the same counter he’d put the keys. I felt my fingers struggle to lay them flat. That explained the sound of tiny patters on the ground and the miniature pricks to my bare feet seconds later. I didn’t dare look down. “O-okay.”

“You don’t want me to stay?”

“No!” My voice boomed but this time I didn’t care. With the help of alcohol, you can overcome anything. “No, no. It’s just that…”

His brows rose waiting for my reason.

My mouth gaped but nothing came out except a dismissive, “Nothing.” Smiling weakly, I reached in my hair for the last pin, sighing my relief. “It’s nothing. Get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

My feet began to move towards the stairs that lead to my room located in the back of the house. I could feel Larry’s lasers still burning the space directly between my eyes as I passed him. My senses warned me a little too late–giving my reflexes a slight delay–so when my leg scuffed the arm of the chair, I wobbled and he caught me, his hand on the small of my back as the other gripped my wrist.

“Sorry.” I hiccupped.

Larry chuckled as he rose from his spot and placed both his hands on my natural arch. Giving me a slight push, he encouraged me towards the staircase.

“You too clumsy to be drinking, Al.”

“I didn’t drink that much-”

“You drink enough. Now, come on. I help you get undressed.”

“You’re a boy. Boys don’t help girls get undressed.”

“I a man, baby.”

I turned on the staircase in attempt to walk them backwards but Larry beat me to the punch–the punch being my next mishap–his arms curling around my thighs to lift me.

“Men don’t help girls get undressed either. That’s so patriarchal. It sounds like something you hear on that show, Taboo, when they’re researching indigenous cultures where their households are really female-oriented but then again really misogynistic.”

“Alex, you talk too much-”

“And, the host has this really deep voice that sounds like he hit puberty a bit too early and he’s all: In their time of rest, the alpha-male decides the conditions of the head female’s slumber solely based on his appeal. From arrangements of where she sleeps to what she sleeps in. If a female denies him in his time of sexual need, she will be punished in front of young females of the ages 13 and 14, to be taught a lesson of obedience to their head male. The women usually do most of the maintenance in their structures too, which isn’t a surprise because women are very strategic and independent. Did you know that female chimpanzees are usually the ones that go off on their own and fend for their selves while the males stay in communal groups for protection and companionship? And, there’s still a thing called an alpha male in their social structure?! It’s crazy, Larry!”

Larry shook his head as he softly sat me on the end of my bed and patted my cheeks to gain my attention. “Take off your hosiery, please.” He whispered. “Okay?”

I nodded and fluffed my dress so I could attempt to grab the bottom. When I deemed unsuccessful, I settled for watching him cross the room to my dresser. It was much more appealing to watch his hips maneuver themselves. His hips ticked and swayed gradually, making me think of two tiny screws being corked into his joints to create the unique motion. I wanted to place my hands around the pelvic bone to experience what his limbs got to work with everyday. Just thinking about how lucky the Ilium was made me envious, the taste burning on my tongue as he squatted to dig through my bottom draw.

“I like your pants, Lar.” I smiled already expecting the expected. When he turned around to take heed to my regard, I pointed to his behind. “They fit very nice.”

His brow rose before he let out a half of a chuckle that crossed into a nervous breath. I glared at his rotund ass as he slowly rose to his feet and pivoted my way. When the view was stolen from me, I wailed out, offering him my unnecessary sorrows.

“Thank you, baby. Now please, take off your stocking.” He gently said, walking over to me. “We eat nothing the whole night.” He sniffed and rubbed his nose as I pulled down the glittery plated stockings. How Lisa found the same color stockings as my dress, I have no idea. Her bargaining and fashion find skills have always been top-notch amazing so I’m not surprised. Her gift has always been through fabrics. Oh and, mouthing off.

“You want pizza?” Larry asked picking up the hosiery I’d thrown astray.

I nodded, biting my lip. “With extra cheese and pineapples and ham.”

His face screwed. “That shit so nasty, Alex. I don’t know why you eat that.” I huffed a fake titter as he rounded my figure and eased a knee on the bed behind me. “Stand, s'il tu plaît.”

I obeyed.

“It’s delicious, that’s why.” I argued, hearing my zipper descend down my back. His finger quickly trialed down my spine sending shivers in and out of my nerves. My body convulsed but I didn’t care since I was already half expecting his touch to follow the warm atmosphere of the room. “It’s like sweet, meaty, and cheesy at the same time. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

“You sweat so much.” He whispered, pushing my dress over my breasts and then leaving me to the rest.

“Lisa warned me that the gown had extra fabric but it’s alright. I sweat a lot anyway.” I frowned at the truth but Larry’s attentive eyes brought back the burst of gaiety I’d been feeling since we stepped in my home. Standing up, I wiggled my way out of the dress, letting it surround my feet in a pool of cream.

Larry was already on the phone ordering the food.

A shower and a bottle of water later, I was sitting on the couch watching a shirtless Larry pop in one of our favorite movies, The Wood. The movie was one of the reasons we began chilling with each other. I had a thing for Omar Epps while he just liked every movie that resembled Boyz In the Hood so we latched onto one another–while I toured with them during workshops–like we’d done the film so many years ago.

So, basically I had Rick Famuyiwa to thank for Larry’s presence in my life.

“How did you find a potential pizza place that delivers at 3 in the morning?” I mumbled through the beef jerky hanging from the side of my mouth.

He shrugged and rose from his spot on the ground. I internally smiled at the Paramount Mountain appearing on my flat screen and then let the real thing spread across my cheeks when his figure blocked the way.

“Pizza Hut never close.” He grinned, proudly, before kicking my thigh with the bottom of his foot. “Spread them for me.” When my smile faded, he rolled his eyes. “To be so shy, your mind always in the gutter.”

I slowly lowered my legs so that he could situate himself between the bare fleshes. I turned my attention to a frantic Omar Epps so I wouldn’t have to watch him slide his torso between my legs and lay his head on my covered stomach. My smile was automatic when he breathed out in solace and his shoulders relaxed so that his chest lay against my pelvis. To make sure of my comfort, he grabbed my calves to curl my legs around his torso but I refused with a light nudge to his side.

“I’m fine.” I reassured, chucking my jerky on the counter and placing my hands behind my head. “And, just because someone’s timid doesn’t mean they don’t think about sex. That’s like saying a dog hates a bone.”

Of course, that took his attention.

I felt something mildly sharp hit my stomach. When I exhaled, it moved with the respiratory gesture, making me look down. He’d laid his chin directly on top of my belly button so that his eyes peered at me with faint intention.

I swiped my tongue with my lips and looked back to the movie. “You’re missing the movie.”

“I like this conversation.” He shrugged. “Forget movie.”

I sighed as he mushed my chin his way in hopes of gaining my eyes again. I rolled them closed not entertaining his speech.

“But, it’s The Wood. We haven’t watched it in a long time.” My voice was monotone and a bore giving him my thoughts on the current topic.

“You think about sex a lot?”

I huffed out a chortle. “Who doesn’t?”

“People.” He stated.

“No human being doesn’t think about sex at least once a day or so. It’s our natural animalistic urge to want it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I uttered, finally looking at him.

“So, you think about it a lot.” He said again, pulling my shirt up so he could lie on my bare skin.

“Everyone does.”

“But I not talking about everyone. I talking about you.” He said it so matter-of-factly making me purse my lips.

Our stare held for a minute or so, him studying me, me glaring at him. When he raised a single brow–his arrogance clocking me in the temple–I spoke, “I think about it just as much as you do.”

His simper taunted my agitation. “So, you think for it all the time?”

I shrugged and redirected my attention to the ceiling. “If that’s when you think about it.” I remarked. “I guess I think about it all the time then.”

“Who you think about it with?”

I shook my head. “Whoever you think about it with.”

“Alex.”

“What?” I looked at him.

“Alex.” He said again. His gaze was relaxed and straight. The only sense of emotion I channeled was the same pompous smirk I’d just been wanting to smack off a second ago.

“Why are you saying my name?” I rolled my eyes annoyed with his perturbing attitude he’s suddenly latched onto.

“Why aren’t you saying mine?”

“Larry, you’re being irritating.”

“Say it again.”

“No.” I shied away from his gaze feeling my anxious buds start to set a scandal to themselves. His light giggle told me he was picking at me just because he knew he could. He knew I would react in such a way because…I always did. This used to be constant with Larry and I. Him teasing. Me shying. I see he found it fit to start right back to where he left off.

“Why?” His bunny teeth peeked under his lip as he bit his bottom.

“Because it’s weird. Now leave me alone. I’m trying to watch the movie.”

His fingers poked my sides making me jerk in his embrace. I yelped as he pushed down on my ribs and then bubbled his lips against my stomach making me accidentally knee his chest. He pouted a huff before coughing out the aftermath, earning a light giggle from my chords.

“I told you to stop.” I warned, watching him grimace.

‘Why when I flirt with you, you block me out so hard?”

I ignored the question firsthand before reevaluating the wording and trialing my eyes back to his still twisted features. “Huh?”

He shrugged and shook his head. His finger dipped into my belly button and then popped from the inny making my stomach tighten slightly. He smiled when he noticed and then continued to do it again. “I flirt and you shoo me off and say it make you feel weird.” My mouth gaped, as he got bored of my tiny button and moved up to my skin. He traced a giant L across my sensitive surface and then drew something else over it. I later noticed it was his signature with the few times he curved and swiveled his index. “But when I don’t do it, you feel something.” His eye connected to mine when he concluded his thoughts.

I sighed and marked the ceiling with the imaginary lasers I imagined propelled from my pupils. I copied the complicated signature he’d moved across my gut multiple times.

“Well…” I began. “I don’t really know. I guess I don’t notice.” I peeped.

“You don’t notice you do it?”

I chortled. “I don’t notice you actually flirt with me, Larry. This is new to me.” The end of my speech made me frown. “You sometimes give mixed signals too, you know?”

Sometimes you don’t know that bravery exists in you until you voice your thoughts without even noticing you voiced them. Just like I’d done then. I would never admit such a thing to Larry so easily…with full regard.

He laid his cheek against my stomach and I immediately felt the cold of his earring on my abdomen. I relished in the momentary nippiness noting that he probably could hear the speed of my heartbeat double 10 times over.

“I guess…I’m just not as aware as other girls.” I awkwardly shrugged, not wanting to meet his eyes. I knew he was looking at me. He was Larry. Eye contact was inevitable with him. “I close up and panic.”

“Men like that.”

I almost choked to death as my laughs came out in horrendous coughs instead of cute, little girly chuckles.

“Stop Lar.” “Is true.”

Stop, Lar.” I looked down at him happy that his eyes were on the TV screen. “It’s alright. I don’t need your pity.”

“Men look for challenge.” He whispered. His tongue poked my stomach through his cheek before he ran the side of his face up and down the same spot. “You give that.”

“I’m sure.” I sighed. “I’m sure it’s true but men look for a certain type of challenge, I think.”

“All the things you do,” He whispered. “Men look for. They just too stupid to know.”

I chuckled. “That’s…pretty ironic coming from you…”

He shrugged. “It take me long time to notice you so it fit.” I twisted my lips feeling him tense against me immediately after. “Don’t think bad. You know what I mean.”

I huffed, turning my head towards a drunk Taye Diggs. “I guess.”

“Lisa tell me a long time ago that you have a like for me and I don’t believe her.”

To have a bitch for a best friend.

“She tell me you talk for me a lot when I not around and how you tell her we never be nothing more than friend because girls like you never get the guy. I laugh at her because that shit sound like she get it from chick flick or something. She talk too much for me so I don’t listen to her.” He huffed. “Then, I start to watch you more and see how you act around me. I start to mess with you to see where you heart at. I never know what to think because you never give shit away. You just hide from me and it annoy me so I leave it alone. But, that don’t mean I stop watch you. I notice how you act when I touch you and when you smile for me no matter what mood you in. I see you when you most happy and it make me want to see you like that all the time. I start to get lost in what you say and notice every time you change your glasses. I see how your eyes twitch every time you uncomfortable and how you bite your lip every time you see something you like or want. When you think you rub your hand together and when you nervous or confuse you sigh and put your teeth together tight. I start to see how you move so graceful and your ambition. I see you in different light all because of annoying ass Lisa.” I softly smiled as he chuckled against my gut.

“Things get bad when I start to compare you to every girl I date and sleep with. They never like you so I drop them. They always so extra and needy. I feel guilty when I have them in my bed and not you and that make me call because I miss your voice. You always make me feel better with your talk and how you so positive. I feel like you the only reason I smile sometime and I think that scare me for a long time. It scare me because I get so mad at myself for being dependent on someone I don’t know if she like me or not. My heart don’t care for how I feel though. When I see you all the shit I tell myself I not gonna do for and around you, I do it anyway. It fuck me up because it just make me fall deeper and then when I leave you I remember I alone again and you still not with me. ”

We remained quiet for a while just relishing in his words until he found it fit to speak again.

“I always tell myself I gonna kiss you the next time I see you just to see how it feel but I never do. I tell myself this for maybe two year now but I get scared and go back to Paris and look so stupid. Laurent always tease me for it. I tell him it not easy but he a bitch and don’t know what it like to feel what I feel for you so he fuck with me all the time. He just like Lisa. They start shit and put stuff in your head and leave you to think for what if, you know. ” I felt something sink into the flesh of my stomach again and him nudge my chin with a single knuckle. His gesticulations told me he was asking for my eyes.

I gave them without complaint.

“I give mix signal because I don’t want to fall in you too much and you don’t want that. I don’t ask because I in denial myself for what I feel for you. I in denial and I blow everything when I see you because I nervous that you brush me off. That it.”

I lowered my eyes as he sighed the heaviest breath I’d seen in my life. It was the relief of burden and the gesture made me smile a thousand red-cheeked leers in existence. My whole body relaxed under his as he moved his hands up and down my ribs. I instantly caught movement of the anxious drumming and covered my face to hide the coming blush.

“Don’t do that, Alexis.” His hands gripped my wrists and pulled my hands from my crimson countenance. I couldn’t function properly. He’d just laid out a whole mind-crafted confession that would’ve sent me overboard to vocalize even a sentence from. Larry had to find a way around his original straightforward method of getting his answer. He’d told me a drawn out layout of what was itching his heart all this time to one too direct question. “Say something.”

“I don’t know what to say.” I answered, honestly. “That was a shitload, Larry.”

He nibbled on his lip. “Is how I feel.” His voice was light but still was grounded and had regained its bass. I noticed his hand rubbing the barren spot on his neck and I internally frowned at the fact that he was reaching for his temporary hideaway. “Alex, you not helping.”

I grinned and pushed a hand into his hair before hesitantly moving it down his cheek. He watched me intently, his lip still tucked between his two front teeth–top and bottom. My palm engulfed his shoulder and before I could stop myself I was pulling his bicep since the spark on my skin was asking for him to touch me. To come closer.

My words were jumbled and would make no sense if I voiced them.

I sighed inwardly as he caught onto my need for his closeness and began to lift himself so his body could envelope mine. I tensed when his hands clutched my ribs in a tight grip. Relaxation came immediately after when his chest touched mine and his hands moved down to encourage my legs to open. I obeyed, closing my eyes as his face neared so that he could lift my hips and nestle his bottom half into my mound’s warmth range.

“Don’t hide.”

I exhaled but listened willingly popping my eyes open to his almond storytellers.

He was so close. The position was almost too intimate as I felt his elbows rest beside my breast and eyed his hands as they danced over my collarbone. Larry blinked at me, his lips thinned.

I held my breath for a second longer before finally blowing my heated waft onto his waiting lips. The exhalation was choppy but at least it was a true story of my feelings.

I was nervous, yes.

But I also wanted this. More than anything in the world at the moment.

“Speak.” He whispered, wavering his glare over my lips and then slowly moving his eyes back to mine. “Tell me what you thinking.”

“I-I’m not.” I chirped.

He pressed his lips together and moved his forehead until it touched mine gently.

“Then, tell me what you feel.”

I swallowed back the frog raising pure hell in the back of my throat, the gulp seeming to echo. Omar’s smooth voice took my attention giving me the hint that my senses were elevating by the second. Only Larry could make every single part of me feel like the epitome of raw. Sensitive.

“I feel you.” I admitted.

“How?”

“I feel…” I blinked as he inched closer to my lips but then rethought the action and stopped short. “I feel you physically. Your heartbeat. It’s loud. Like it’s…pounding against my own and they’re both echoing past just the sound of our pulse.”

“Tell me more.”

“I feel your breathing. I feel your hands. And…your excitement.” His nose brushed my lips as he nodded. “I feel…everything you’ve said radiating from your pores and I feel like I need to conclude that somehow.”

My eyes flicked down to his lips the time the bottom was bitten into. The skin reddened and I looked back up to his wandering glare. “I feel you physically and mentally…emotionally.” I breathed as his hand cupped my cheek. “And, I need more.”

“More?” He whispered, moving his eyes up to mine in urgency. The glint in them resembled the dimension I’d only seen when he danced. Passion. A passionate mien that flashed with something close to determination but never withheld that look of frenzy that clouded the control of his features. I could only imagine my mirrored expression as he pushed himself away from me so my body would fully slide itself on the couch cushions under us. The missionary position was one that I’d been in before but never had a felt the surge of euphoric concupiscence adrenalizing itself through my veins. Through my pores. My senses. Everything had hit a hundred as Larry’s tight grip pressured my thighs and his lips brushed against my own.

“More?” He whistled again. The growl that brushed his vocals scared me but also set fire to the flame as he lingered over my features. “Tell me.”

“Yes.” I exhaled, breathlessly.

Time swirled into nothing but a handful of single and double digits as his lips slowly pressed onto mine with a sultry finish. The peck creased my tongue from the immense compaction he offered but also blessed my lips with the softest favor. I bit my lip as he barely let me breath, his lips still grazing mine. His carbon dioxide was my oxygen and vice versa. His hands were my hips and vice versa. His thoughts were mine and vice versa.

“Look at me.”

His command didn’t go without notice but my initial attention did. I opened my eyes to bewitched lips that carried a scar. I ended on eyes that pleaded for something that I couldn’t decipher until his mouth moved again.

“You feel that?”

My eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed my hand and placed it between our nearly conjoined chests. My heart pounded against one side while his beat against the other. When I looked up to him, he licked his lips and moved our palms to the convergence of our stomachs. The contrast between textures totally threw me off as his bumped against the back of my hand and mine lay flat over my lifelines. The comparison spoke immense volumes as the haggard breathing coming from both ends became overwhelming after while.

“This is me for you.” He whispered, staring at my neck before leaning down and kissing the spot gently. “This is me.”

I cupped his cheeks and slowly pulled him down to my waiting want. He obliged with pure patience on his end, starting with soft and sly pecks that fused into smooth licks of my bottom towards the benediction of each. The process continued forever it seemed, the slow drags of his flesh on mine feeling like the residue of macaroon crumbs. The sweet liquid of honeydew when its first drizzled onto the tip of the tongue and the incessant lasting of molasses, its origin sugar beets instead of sugarcane. I could make a whole menu of tastes when it came to Larry’s lips. Larry’s sly tongue. His patience. It resembled the warmth of fresh bakery bread and the slow, vulgar finesse of real leather on dampened skin. The feel made me whimper in longing when he slowly pulled my hands from his thermal cheeks and guided my neck to a crane. His palms pressed dents into my ample cheeks as I wrapped my arms around his long neck until he was molded to my skin. My need for closeness resulted in his tongue twisting against my upper lip. The jump in my bones made me gasp and just like I’d commenced with the upper hand he snatched it from my possession in slow strokes against my fleshy opening.

His method made me shudder–my body seeming to experience a million convulsions in one second. He was using the same back and forth motion he provided my hand in the car. Slow, slick, and savoring. Sinful, sultry, and seductive. He’d jumped from one boat to the other as his tongue danced over one side of my mouth and then took an expedition to the other. My moans intertwined with Sean Nelson’s nervous wails in the background and soon I was being lifted from my spot, Larry fingers seeping into my lower back like melted rocks to skin.

I leaned into his pull giving me a brief moment to hover over his beautiful face. My main interest was his swollen lips that were perked and pouted at the moment with the shredding of my long-term desire. I kissed them slowly, opening my legs so that I was straddling his upright upper half. The imagery of his coming smile was left as a last memory as my eyes closed and my lust took over for a second round.

“I love your tongue.” He whispered the compliment as he kissed the tip before pecking my lips again. I grinned my gratitude and dipped my head so that my hair fell over my face and he was left with the sight of my tumid mouth.

The moment was pierced by gentle ringing of his phone on the countertop. My attention jerked towards it as his hands fished its way up my shirt and then descended.

“Leave it.” He breathed, trying to gain my notice again.

“No.”

“I dare you to touch it.”

Twenty minutes later we were both sitting on the couch stuffing our faces with semi-cold pizza. I smiled as the credits began to roll down the flat screen television before uncrossing my legs and leaning over for another slice.

“I hope you gave him a good tip.” I said, shaking my head.

Larry’s hand fished its way across my leg and snatched the slice I’d just owned.

Taking a bite, he reassured, “5 dollars is enough.”

I huffed and reached for another pepperoni. “He waited a good 15 minutes out there.”

Larry grinned, “Is for a good cause.”

I rolled my eyes at his arrogance.

“I handle my business.” He finished.

I snorted. “Don’t get weird.” I breathed, reaching for the remote and hitting main menu. The screen blacked and then reverted back to the starting setting. “We’re not even an item yet.”

I saw his figure pause from the corner of my eye as I bit into a garlic knot and threw it back into the pizza box. Larry’s breath of realization echoed in the back of the beginning frame for Paramount Mountain films–for the second time.

Scooting closer to me, he took another bite of his pizza. “Be mine.” He said, casually.

I twisted away a hidden grin before shrugging, “Okay.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

I guess I’m no longer the other. 

i’m laughing so hard because most celebrities go out in public in hoodies and sweatpants so that they’ll go unnoticed but taylor swift’s just like whatever man i’m gonna wear my 10 inch hot pink heels and my pretty dress and i’m just gonna take my sweet old time walking on the sidewalk and smiling at the paparazzi because i chose this life