this week was so nice!!! lectures will end in two weeks and I’m a little sad and also a little glad :DDD I’m gonna miss some of my teachers :’) I’m so tired of studying but I need to keep going :)) I’m really looking forward to the holidays because my dog is going to live in my apartment for a week while my family is on vacation and it’s gonna be so nice
Right. Let’s get this out of the way. Kate is less than 12 weeks. 85% of miscarriages happen in the first 12 weeks and 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. Any woman who announces a pregnancy before that mark knows that she is risking a great deal. She knows that if she has a miscarriage she will then have to tell people there won’t be a baby. Miscarriage of a wanted child is devastating. Most of you will have no idea how much it hurts, physically and emotionally, but I do. Now to have to announce that not just to family and friends but to the entire world would be a pain I would never wish on anyone. Think of the ache you felt when Zara miscarried and had to publicly announce it. Kate knows the publicity around her pregnancy will be more intense and far less sympathetic. No woman would announce a pregnancy before 12 weeks to get out of shaking hands for 90 minutes. No woman would announce a pregnancy before 12 weeks to overshadow her brother in law (which she would have done anyway with her engagement) who she has never said a bad word about and who has never said a bad word about her that was confirmed by a named source. And Kate would certainly not be so desperate to skip work or overshadow Harry if it meant she might miss out on her son’s first day of school. She is not a sociopath. She’s just a pregnant lady. The conspiracy theories are insane and ignorant of real people with real feelings, who risk a lot with this announcement.
After having a quick dinner, you set the table with Jimin’s food and made your way to your room. You immediately started packing all that you could and all the while made a mental list of all the things you wanted to get at the store tomorrow before your in-laws would be home.
Jimin came to the kitchen a little while later and he was expecting you to be sitting at the table, eating dinner. But instead, he found some dirty dishes in the sink and his food set on the table. He hated eating alone, but he got used to it at night. Sometimes you would eat with him for breakfast, but you only ever sat in silence. You had one friendly conversation after all these months, so nothing was supposed to change in your dynamic… right? He sighed as he pulled his chair out and sat down.
The next morning, Jimin woke up to the sound of the vacuum. He turned to look at the clock and was surprised that it was already 9:30. Usually, he would have been at work by this time, but he had taken the day off in order to prepare for his parent’s arrival. He quickly brushed his teeth and took a shower in order to prepare for the long day ahead. He entered the living room a few moments later only to find it more clean than usual. You had always made it a deal to have the house clean, but everything was in tip top shape today. The magazines were all organized neatly on the coffee table and that vacuum patterns on the carpet were left to be admired. He looked up to your side of the house and found a few boxes outside. You exited your room a few minutes later, wiping off some sweat from your forehead.
You hadn’t heard Jimin wake up and you figured you would just let him sleep in on his day off. You weren’t really sure how much help he would be anyways.
“So…I guess I’ll move these boxes into my room then?” he asked, walking towards the first box.
“Oh. Uh, good morning. And yeah, that would be great, thank you” you said, thankful for the help.
Pretty soon, all the boxes were moved into his room and you were almost done cleaning the house. You had been up since 6am, cleaning and packing and rearranging the guest room. You still had so much left to do though and you were tired just thinking about it.
“How about you go unpack the boxes? I cleared out some space for you in the closet and in the bathroom” Jimin said. He could notice how tired you looked already, but the job had to be done. The act had to be perfect.
A/N: an anon requested a poly!hamilsquad x reader soulmate au and i had no idea how to do it so it’s been in my inbox for like a month. im so sorry i took so long ;-; i never posted this late (or early before so enjoy!)
“Y/N, for crying out loud, aren’t you the tiniest bit curious as to who it might be? I mean, come on, you have an incomplete triangle on your wrist!” Angelica said, trying to pull up your sleeve. You swatted her hand away, pushing it back down. She always pestered you about the mark on your wrist. Since she does not have one of her own, she tells you that she lives vicariously through you.
There were only a handful of people in the world that had markings on their skin. It was what scientists called soulmate links, people you were meant to be with. Unfortunately for you, and this was your opinion, you hated being one of the few to have it. You didn’t believe in people “meant to be together”, and would rather just find someone that you loved for who they are, not what your skin says.
And the mark on your wrist was so small, it could just be a birthmark.
There has been a Decepticon emblem somewhere on my person every day since the election.
Today I saw a post that upset me. It was basically stating that half the fandom is incorrect to see the Decepticons as the ‘real’ good guys, and reiterated all the reasons that they’re terrible and the Autobots are, were, and always will be the only good guys.
I may have growled ‘fuck you’ at the computer, almost reblogged with an angry comment…and then looked at myself with horror, because I make it my policy not to be negative at someone I’ve never met, or their thoughts, on such slim basis. Compassion is more important than anything else; we are all hurting, and it is so easy to do further damage that, especially on a platform such as tumblr, it does well to watch one’s words very, very carefully. Fictional characters are not worth doing real, tangible harm over.
So why the hell was I so upset that I almost broke my own rules?
I have worn a Decepticon emblem somewhere on my person every day since the election. Earrings. My windbreaker. A t-shirt. But mostly the earrings, since they’re subtle and pass mostly unremarked. I’m even contemplating a tattoo, more seriously than ever before.
I’m in agony. I’m a policy student; I specialize in public health policy. A few weeks ago, my mentor quite literally told me to hold off on entering the workforce for the next four years; he feels that me starting a career under the Trump Administration would be a very bad idea. At the same time, I’m significantly changing the course of my immediate future in light of the election; I’m applying to Teach For America, which has an LGBT initiative to recruit LGBT teachers. It’s intended to make up grade and graduation (and survival) differences between LGBT and straight students. I’m going to actively pursue being placed in a red state, where I can do the most good.
It’s not like I don’t understand this is dangerous. There is a large part of me that wants to flee the country (New Zealand being the favorite refuge, right now). But my family didn’t leave China during the Cultural Revolution, though it killed my great-grandparents and led to the torture and humiliation of many of my other family members. My grandmother had to be almost forcefully sent to the US because the rest of the family knew damn well her opinionated nature and total disregard for her own safety would get her dead. But it wasn’t the first time the family had weathered horrors. I know too well that it won’t be the last. And if my great-grandparents could stay in China then, then no incompetent orange baboon’s arse will chase me from the United States.
I’m bi. I’m multiracial. I’m a woman. I’m an intellectual. This is not a good combination in Trump’s America. But I’m not afraid.
Because I think about Megatron every time I start browsing the New Zealand visa site. Megatron, and my family.
We’ve been weaponizing words for generations. Two thousand years, in fact. Megatron, the young miner working in the dark for a better world, shaping words to change sparks, speaks to me on a deep level. This is what we have done for those two thousand years. And like Megatron, we have paid a price. Very often in blood. We’ve never been good at shutting up.
Megatron is both a power fantasy and a cautionary tale for me right now, and right now, what I really need is the power fantasy. I feel incredibly helpless; I am not the only one. Megatron, someone who starts out so utterly helpless, gives me hope that I, too, may yet be powerful one day. That I may be capable of righting the injustices that cause me such pain now.
I do not mean to excuse his atrocities. I am repulsed by them perhaps more than many others, because I understand how easy it might be to slip over the edge to committing them. (Anyone who tells you it is easy not to slip over that edge is a person to be very frightened of; they obviously do not see themselves as capable of horror, and those people are the ones most likely to commit horrors–they do not examine themselves or their motivations, they believe they are utterly in the right, and that is the most dangerous of persons).
In the wake of this election, we all feel helpless. We are suddenly enemies in our own countries. Our neighbors turn on us for our compassion, for our liberal sentiments and our belief that all people are created equal. Does We the People still cover us? We’re not sure. There are so many who would say no. There are so many who believe we’re seeing the rise of another Hitler.
Megatron rebelled against an authoritarian government. The lowest of the low, he shattered the monstrous system that treated him and his fellows as disposable objects. We are facing a future in which we are disposable objects. Is it any wonder we find hope in him? Is it any wonder that, seeing Trump get another pass for a lie, or use a tweet to cover up his nefarious dealings, you are being deceived gains new, immediate meaning? How about rise up?
It’s not Optimus who gives us hope, Optimus who was a cop in IDW, Optimus, the well-meaning supporter of the status quo (that very same status quo that has so failed us!).
It’s Megatron, who may have fallen from grace, but who understands. Who was the miner who toppled an empire.
You may interpret canon as you wish. I would never want to step on someone’s toes for that. But for all you folks wondering why the hell fandom has suddenly decided the Decepticons are more appealing…
…it’s very simple. We’ve just realized we’re in their position.
The bridge scene on Endor is the moment Han realizes that it doesn’t matter if Leia loves him back; all that matters is that he loves Leia.
You know the scene: right after Luke confesses to Leia that they’re siblings and then immediately leaves to confront Vader.
Enter Han. He insists that Leia tell him what’s wrong even after she tells him that she just wants to be alone.
Leia says, “I can’t tell you,” to which Han responds with jealousy, saying, “Could you tell Luke? Is that who you could tell?”
At this, we see Leia cry for the first time, and Han starts to walk off. He then pauses for a moment
then turns around and walks back to Leia. In that moment, during that pause before he walks back, Han realizes that he loves Leia whether she loves him or not. He goes back and apologizes - Han Solo apologizes. And you know that’s not something he does lightly or often because that would be admitting that he did something wrong.
Leia looks at him, considers him, and responds with “Hold me” while collapsing into Han. Now this is clearly something new for Han. He looks shocked and almost a little scared by the embrace, like he’s never done this before.
He sort of awkwardly pats her, like he’s trying to figure out how this thing works. In a matter of seconds, he’s gone from a macho man who walks away from a crying woman because of his own jealous to a man who is so in love that he’ll hold her even if he doesn’t know how.
This is a list of the urban fantasies I’ve enjoyed most over the years, split down a few lines and to be updated as I discover new series. I’m also including contemporary fantasies because the lines often blur. Hope you find something you like on it!
$ for LGBT characters £ for characters of colour € for characters with disabilities (all based on my slightly spotty memory, so feel free to correct if I’ve missed something)
or stories that spend most of their time steeping you in the magical world
American Gods - Neil Gaiman £
Shadow Moon gets out of jail and is hired by the cagey Mr. Wednesday to … he’s not really clear, honestly, but it puts him in the path of people who may or may not be gods. Multiple mythologies.
Among Others - Jo Walton
A 1980s teen flees her troubled home in Wales to get to know her birth father and attend an English boarding school. Is her mother’s family able to work magic or is it just wishful thinking? Reading science fiction might give her the answers. British folklore and faeries, and a very interesting take on magic.
The Boggart - Susan Cooper
A Canadian family inherits a Scottish castle inhabited by a mischievous boggart—who then stows away and finds himself in Toronto. Scottish folklore.
The Bone Clocks - David Mitchell £
The life of a woman from teen-hood to old age as she lives her life and occasionally intersects with an ancient war between good and evil, fought with telepathy and other things that look a lot like magic.
the Dark is Rising series - Susan Cooper €
A group of English kids—four siblings, a seventh son, and a boy who might be a reincarnated Arthur—versus the forces of darkness. Five books, only the last of which includes all the kids. Cornish and English folklores, Arthuriana.
Gods Behaving Badly - Marie Phillips
The Greek pantheon now lives in North London and is as dysfunctional as ever. Artemis walks dogs. Aphrodite does phone sex. Apollo is a washed-out TV psychic who’s just fallen, via Eros, for the cleaning lady—who’s trying to date someone else, thank you very much. Greek mythology.
The Golem and the Jinni - Helene Wecker £
A golem and a jinni both find themselves in turn-of-the-century New York, both literally and figuratively. A beautiful exploration of the immigrant experience, friendship, and identity. Jewish and Arabic folklore.
Good Omens - Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
A mostly-good angel and slightly-wicked demon discover they’ve been training the wrong Antichrist days before the scheduled apocalypse. The real Antichrist wants a dog and to save the whales. Also features a legacy witch, a rookie witch-finder, the Four Horsemen, the Four Other Horsemen, Satanic nuns, and a Queen soundtrack. Christian mythology.
The Hunter’s Moon - O.R. Melling
A Canadian teen visiting her Irish cousin ends up mounting a cross-country road trip to retrieve her cousin who’s run off with the faeries. Irish mythology.
Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman £
Richard Mayhew has it all: a good job, a hot fiancée, a nice flat. Then he helps an apparently homeless girl with the power to create doors and is pulled into the magical community below London. Nothing will ever be the same.
Of Blood and Honey and And Blue Skies From Pain - Stina Leicht
It’s tough, living in Northern Ireland during the Troubles, and Liam finds it harder than most. No one trusts him, he can’t find work, everyone wants him to choose a side, and to cap it off, he feels like a monster is inside him and knows something inhuman is stalking him and his. The war between the Fey and the Fallen is heating up, and the only people keeping peace are an order of priests—who also, surprise, want Liam’s help. Irish and Christian mythology.
Sunshine - Robin McKinley
Rae is a baker. Tough and practical and smart, but a baker. Who’s just rescued herself and a vampire from captivity using magic she’d half-forgotten she had. Unfortunately, the master vampire’s still after them, the magical police know something’s up, and she just wants to keep being normal. Includes mild, realistic PTSD and a whole lot of delicious desserts.
Ysabel - Guy Gavriel Kay
Ned Marriner’s tagging along with his photographer dad to Provence when he begins to notice magic awakening around him. There’s an ancient love triangle that‘s repeated throughout history, using contemporary locals as proxies—and it’s very interested in Ned, his new friend Kate, and his father’s entourage.
or stories that spend most of their time solving a magical crime
the Blood series - Tanya Huff $£€
Vicky Nelson is the pinnacle of the tough, no-nonsense PI—which poses a bit of a problem when she’s hired to catch a “vampire” on the streets of Toronto and then actually meets one. (He writes romance novels.)
Borderline - Mishell Baker $£€
Millie’s nearly broke, scarred, a double amputee, mentally ill, and Done with all the BS around that. She’s also despairing of ever resuming her directing career, so when a mysterious woman offers her a job with her temp agency, she’s intrigued. What wasn’t mentioned? She’ll actually be an immigration agent working with the Fae of Hollywood, and one of them’s just gone missing.
the Felix Castor series - Mike Carey $
Felix Castor is an exorcist. A hard-drinking, down-at-the-heels exorcist in a London brimming with ghosts and demons. Unfortunately, he never seems to get the easy cases where he can just waltz in and play a tune—and his past mistakes might be coming back to haunt him.
Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency and The Long, Dark Tea-Time of the Soul - Douglas Adams
Dirk Gently solves mysteries by wandering around, getting into strange situations, and then connecting dots no one believes even exist. Like time traveling robots and Romantic poets, or rampaging eagles and mold-ridden refrigerators.
The Grendel Affair - Lisa Shearin £
Makenna Fraser is a seer working for Supernatural Protection and Investigations in New York. “Seer” meaning she can spot the ghoulies and ghosties few people can, including her coworkers. When an off-the-books gnome removal turns into a blood-soaked crime scene, she and her partner are handed the case—but will her eagerness to prove herself just land her in hotter water?
the Greywalker series - Kat Richardson $£
Harper Blaine prides herself on rationality and unflappability, but after briefly dying on a case, she’s suddenly wrong-footed and seeing ghosts everywhere. In the middle of all that, she’s hired by a mysterious voice to track down an organ that’s more than it seems, and suddenly haunted street corners are the least of her problems.
the Olympus Bound series - Jordanna Max Brodsky $£
Selene di Silva’s been keeping her head down for a long time, shutting herself off not just from New York, but from the world. (Being a former goddess will do that.) But then she stumbles on the body of a woman who’s been ritually sacrificed and her past as Artemis comes rising up again. Greek and Roman mythology
the Incryptid series - Seanan McGuire $£
Meet the Price family, a close-knit group of cryptozoologists whose mission is to protect and preserve endangered cryptids like dragons, gorgons, and the religious Aeslin mice from humans. They’re also hiding from the Covenant of St. George, a.k.a. why the cryptids are endangered in the first place. Technically paranormal romance.
the Iron Druid series - Kevin Hearne £
Atticus O’Sullivan is a herbalist and seller of New Age paraphernalia by day, two-thousand-year-old druid by night. He thought moving to Arizona would keep him safe from gods bent on revenge. He thought wrong. Multiple mythologies.
Last Call at the Nightshade Lounge - Paul Krueger $£€
Bailey Chen is fresh out of business school, broke, and living with her parents. When a childhood friend offers her a job as a barback, she takes it as a stopgap—but then she discovers the secret cabal of bartenders who fight demons using magical cocktails and after that, there’s no looking back.
Moonshine - Alaya Johnson £
Zephyr Hollis, a charity worker and ESL teacher in 1920s New York, and therefore flat broke, takes a side job from a student, Amir, without asking questions. But will the vampire mob, the drug-crazed vamps, Amir’s literal smoking hotness, or her family history do her in first?
Night Owls - Lauren M. Roy $
Valerie is a vampire with a successful campus bookstore. Elly grew up fighting monsters and fearing for her life. When their paths collide via a book in Elly’s keeping, they must unite to prevent said monsters from unleashing hell and then some.
the October Daye series - Seanan McGuire $£€
Toby Daye wants sleep, coffee, and for everyone to leave her alone already—not necessarily in that order. Unfortunately, as a changeling Knight and PI with a knack of finding people and solving problems with maximum chaos, none of those things will ever be easy to come by. Multiple folklores.
the Rivers of London series - Ben Aaronovitch $£€
When Constable Peter Grant meets a ghost at a crime scene, it’s only logical for him to take a witness statement. When DCI Thomas Nightingale learns of this, he offers him a job as an aurorthe sorcerer’s apprentice a valued member of a magically-focused police unit. London, its river goddesses, various magic workers, assorted Fae, and the Metropolitan Police will never be the same.
the Shadow Police series - Paul Cornell $£
Following the mysterious death of a suspect, four Metropolitan Police
officers are drawn into London’s sinister magical underworld in their
hunt for a killer.
the Smoke series - Tanya Huff $£
Tony Foster’s found his footing as a PA on a Vancouver-shot vampire show. Unfortunately, the paranormal weirdness that is his life continues and it’s somehow up to him to save the day.
Unholy Ghosts (and following) - Stacia Kane £
Chess Putnam works as a Church exorcist, partly out of obligation and partly for the pay, which goes to fuel her drug addiction. Unfortunately, no ghosts are nice ghosts and her private life keeps intruding on her cases.
the Watch novels - Terry Pratchett
Ankh-Morpork is the citiest of fantasy cities. Its City Watch is a bunch of misfits. Sam Vimes isn’t putting up with any nonsense. Somehow, they fight crime.
Zoo City - Lauren Beukes £
Zinzi December is a con artist and occasional finder of lost things who lives in the Johannesburg slums with her sloth familiar. Her latest case? Find a pair of missing teen pop stars—before the apparent assassins do.
Genre: Smut / Fluff (SO FLUFFY WHO EVEN AM I ANYMORE)
Word Count: 2,248
Pairing: Kim Jongin x Reader (i know his mother’s name isn’t really april okay)
Author: Admin Xiufairy ㅅㅇㅅ
“You want to what?” Jongin asked you, tilted his head to the side. He narrowed his eyes as he processed your question. You gave him a smile before you explained yourself.
“I want to curl your hair. Like in the Lucky One teasers, it was all curled and cute and blonde, let me do it.” You pouted at him and ran your fingers through his dark hair. “It’d look so cute with dark hair.” Jongin pulled you closer to him until you sat on his lap, your hands immediately moving to his hair. You ran your fingers through the soft locks and he smiled at you.
“Will curling my hair make you happy?” He asked you. You nodded, withdrawing your fingers from his hair.
Every night, he’d either become more distant, or bring another woman into our bed. Sometimes he’d be drunk. He was never good to me when he was drunk (Not that he ever was, anymore. Even when he was sober. Bruises may not show on the skin once they’re healed, but they’re always there.)
I’ve done things. Terrible things. Just to make him stay with me. I thought I could make him love me again, but why? Why wouldn’t he? Why is it that I have to do everything for this relationship to work?
Did he want me to give up? To be the first to leave?
I know people love to glance over rose’s character and especially her feelings about being gay especially since she never got the 20 page long confession about her feelings on it, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Like her drinking problem started conveniently when she finally tried to get kanaya to go on a date with her and ?? this doesn’t feel like a coincidence at ALL i know there were other factors too but i cant help but think this was one of them. rose is a very repressed and internal bitch so like this makes sense at least to me.
Now the topic of rose and her sexuality i know most people are like yeah she knew all her life and I sort of agree but I feel like her strained relationship with her mother had a huge impact on her sexuality. Like sure maybe in some part of her brain she realized she likes girls but…her mother might be the reason she never wanted to face it. The only woman and person shes ever see until she’s thirteen she had a difficult relationship with and i cant not see that leading to her repressing her feelings and just kind of forcing herself to not feel anything but when all the game shit is done and she’s stuck on a meteor with a girl she’s finally realizing she likes and shutting herself down isnt working….shall i say, everything happens too much?
Not a single breeze blew into the tent. Somewhere above her a dozen jets screamed overhead, returning from an evening patrol. The sound brought to mind vivid images, all thinly connected by memories and sensations. Like standing on the tarmac in weather reaching 47°C. The jet engines and the hot rush of air, somehow even hotter than the sun above her. A cold aluminum can, still sweating in her hand only to blister it minutes later. Just from daring to exist in the open. Her palm had been red for days.
She glanced down at her hand. It was still red. When she wiped it off on her lap it smeared. Again a flood of loosely-connected sensations, her brain splitting and existing in the past and the present at the same time.
She had lost a lot of blood, she knew, and she was dehydrated. The picc in her arm and the fact that she was being fussed over by one of her favorite people hardly registered, though.
“You shouldn’t be up already.” Dr. Ziegler tried to angle her back down so she could rest, but Hana shook her head.
“If I lie down any more I think I might get sick.”
Imagine: You’re having a really stressful day and Harry helps you relax *wink wink*
Word count: 892 (short and sweet)
Warnings: smut (nothing too wild, still hot though)
A/N: Just fucking LOOK at this gif god he’s fucking beautiful. okay okay on to the imagine. Masterlist
You were having the must stressful week of your life. You were in the last year of college, and the work load never seemed to slow down. This week specifically, everything was piling up. Today, you took a huge test in one of your harder classes and you have no idea if you passed or failed. You feared it was the latter, even though you stayed up all night last night studying. On top of all that you had a three papers due Monday, so you would have no time to relax this weekend.
Summary: You’re forced by your Athlete parents into taking a summer job, which becomes your full-time job as you balance university. Only the asshole you work for and help realises how much you do for him. He don’t like that, he don’t like you. Welcome to the world of Athletes, Lance Tucker is your tour guide. (I suck at summaries.) Warnings: Explicit content, later on. Swearing, body shaming/ degrading language from Tucker. Asshole Tucker (I’m talking straight up rude.)
Lance took a deep breath before knocking on his father’s room door, he didn’t want to spend any time talking to the man but knew he had to get this conversation out of the way. The door opened, revealing the preppy (annoying) Sabrina, Lance slapped on the fakest smile he could muster as she ushered him inside. He walked through the door into the room, various people sat around sofa’s, much like the room he had left Y/N in.
“Harry, glad you got your mother’s message.” His father called and Lance didn’t even glance his direction.
“Lance,” he corrects his father instantly. “What is it you need to speak with me about? I have to get ready myself.” Lance crosses his arms over his chest, finally looking at his father who isn’t even dressed in his suit yet.
Harry chuckled and shakes his head. “I had your suit sent here, we need to discuss urgent matters.” Lance raises an eyebrow as the suit he picked out was held in an assistant’s hands, bright smile as Lance hesitantly takes it from her grasp. “I’m worried about this new girlfriend of yours, I think you need to reconsider the entire relationship. She isn’t right for you.”
Lance frowned at the back of his father, already pouring himself a glass of scotch, somethings never change. “Is this you asking or telling me to reconsider?”
“You’re an adult, Harrison. Besides you’ve never done as I asked or even as I’ve told. Consider this my boy,” Lance rolls his eyes at the ‘my boy’. “She’s very interested in your mother work, knows a lot about the magazine. Isn’t it a little strange that a woman with such… intelligence is attracted to a man of your reputation? I mean, how did she even come to your life? Gradually or did she just show up out of thin air? Harry, you’re being played in a fool’s game. She doesn’t like you, she likes the story she’ll sell once she’s done with you.”
Lance stands there frowning at his father. There was no way you were a journalist or even thinking about selling a story about him. He knows who your parents are, he knows that you’re in university but then, you do need the money. You didn’t seem like the type to play him like that, although he had made your life miserable before this weekend started; honestly, he wouldn’t blame you if you sold some story on him. Plus, it’s not like him and you are actually dating, it’d be embarrassing for a while because the fact he paid you to be his girlfriend but like every story, it’ll fade into nothing over a month.
“Y/N isn’t like that,” Lance mutters with a slight shrug. “Besides even if she did, it wouldn’t be anything new to the media to write. Women sell their sexual endeavours with me all the time.” he nonchalantly smiled as he walked to the bathroom to change.
“You better be sure, I’d hate for you to have said something wrong or personal and for it to be plastered in the papers tomorrow.” Lance stopped short, eyes widening in slight horror. He had told you personal shit, a lot of personal shit. He gulped and looked over his shoulder to his father, who was sipping the scotch and picking a tie to wear and glanced at his son, who nodded once with a tight smile. “From one male Tucker to another, never let any woman get inside here,” he points to his chest where his heart is. “They’ll fuck you up for life, my son.” He swiftly turns away to change in another room.
Lance got changed slowly, thinking over everything his father had said. You and Lance aren’t really friends, you’re only here cause he’s paying you, plus you aren’t the type of person to seek out reporters and sell something on him. You had been working for him, for a while too, you would’ve tried to get into his life way sooner than now. He didn’t care. He doesn’t care. Lance doesn’t care what you do after this weekend, this charade will be over tomorrow and then it’s back to normal life.
He left the bathroom and sees his father waiting for him. “Is that all you wished to speak about?”
“No, it isn’t. I just wished you weren’t so much like your mother, she ruined this family.” Harry sighed and Lance frowned, “there’s so much you don’t know, so much that should’ve been said to you but for another day, it seems.” He pulls on his suit jacket as he talks, Sabrina in a short sequin dress beside him, he glances at Lance one last time. “I had such high expectations of you.” Is the last thing he says as he leaves with Sabrina clinging to his arm and the wave of assistants following.
Lance gives a shaky sigh and somehow manages to leave through the throng of assistants also, deciding to take the stairs because having to stand in an elevator with his father would be more torture.
Lance watched as his father and posse walked into the celebration first, he swiftly followed after avoiding the welcoming committee. He grabbed a flute of champagne and chugged the entire contents down, placing the glass back on the tray. Scanning the room for you or his mother, he prayed you hadn’t given away what’s going on between you both; his mother was always good at weeding out the truth from people, it’s like her superpower.
“Lance, over here sweetie.” He hears his mother’s voice call, he turns his head to see her beaming at him. Holding a flute of champagne in one hand, she always dressed well and looked good.
Finally, his eyes drift to the body that’s standing next to his mother, back turned to him and hair in a stylish updo. Long, backless, shimmery golden dress that clung to their body perfectly and made them look outworldly. As he takes a few steps towards his mother he realises who is standing beside his mother, his eyes widen slightly.
“Jesus, Fucking, Christ.” Is all Lance can seem to get out, you turn to face Lance and you look even better from the front. Your makeup was immaculate, the dress from the front showed a little cleavage just enough to draw Lance’s attention; he’s a boob guy, of course, he’d notice the assets close to first. “You look gorgeous,” he smugly grins at the blush that rises to your cheeks; placing an arm around your waist, smiling at his mother who is already mingling with the other guests. “How did getting ready with my mother go?”
It takes a few seconds for you to answer, you’re looking around the room at the sheer amount of people here to celebrate Lance’s father. “Good, really good. Erin is lovely, all we did is talk about you though.”
“Well, that’s everyone’s favourite subject.” Lance quips and you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his underline of seriousness to that statement. “She doesn’t suspect-”
You cut him off with a small chuckle. “No, she doesn’t.” You look at Lance, his hair was slicked back and the dark tux looked good, though you wouldn’t admit that out loud to him. His blue eyes were flickering around the room, he had a slight smile but it was more of a smirk than a smile. “So, now what does one do at these events?”
Lance chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening but he began moving through the crowd. Steering you expertly in the direction of the bar, “Well, one, such as myself, get’s a better and stiffer drink than just champagne because having to deal with a room of men like my father requires a certain level of drunkenness.” You chuckled but nodded, watching as Lance ordered some drink and the bartender making it. “You don’t want to be left alone around here, the men are like vultures. Preying on young, beautiful women who are left alone.” You raise an eyebrow to which Lance does the same.
“Isn’t that what you do too?” You asked a certain level of sass behind your words.
“The difference between me and them,” Lance nods his head in the direction of where his father, Harry, and his friends are loudly laughing. “Is that I take no as a no, and I don’t take advantage of drunk women nor do I go after women who are just above the age of consent mark.” He takes his drink and downs it in one. “I know that I am a womaniser, doesn’t make me a good guy but it makes the best guy in this room, right now. So, I suggest you stick by my side tonight.” You nodded once, sipping your drink and letting Lance’s words settle in.
As you both stood at the bar many people came over to speak to Lance, he kept you close as he engaged in conversation. It was odd to see Lance like this, so suited and censored in a way. He laughed at the awful jokes an older man said, he shook hands and refrained from making sarcastic or rude remarks. In a way you hated it, this wasn’t Lance, well the Lance you know and are used to.
You sat and listened to Lance’s father’s speech and thanking everyone for showing up, you tried not to chuckle at Erin who was rolling her eyes throughout the speech. She left as soon as the speech was over, hugging and kissing both yours and Lance’s cheeks. You sighed greatly watching as Lance stood a few feet away, amongst a few older men all drinking and talking, he seemed to be in his element as he talked about his successes and himself.
“You look as bored as I feel,” a voice startled you from your thoughts, you glanced to your left as a young man sat on the stool next to you, tapping the bar for attention and ordering a scotch on the rocks. “Bryon Cassidy.” he extends a hand, you place your own in his and shake it. He has sandy blonde hair with green eyes, a gentle smile and a little taller than Lance.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” You smile slightly. “How do you know Harry Tucker?” you asked, sipping the cocktail that Lance had ordered for you a few minutes ago before he was whisked away to socialise.
Bryon shrugged, “I’m his son.” You widen your eyes slightly as he chuckled. “He has four other kids, Lance is just the famous one that everyone talks about, not that he minds, of course.” You nod slowly and look at Lance before looking back at Bryon, “I’m the kid from the secret other family that ruined Harry’s and Erin’s marriage,” you frowned slightly at that.
“I thought Harry was sleeping with a young gymnast, that’s how she found out.”
Bryon laughed a little. “That’s true, but Erin was willing to stay with Harry if he promised to stop fucking around… but he then admitted to having another family in Beverly Hills, he eventually divorced both Erin and my mother.” You nodded slowly and looked at Lance, wondering if he knew all of this. “So, how much is Lance paying you?” You shot your head to look at Bryon, “Don’t play dumb with me, I am the smart brother. I know when a girl is here for Lance and not just here with Lance, two completely different things in that Tucker world.” He sighed and sipped his drink.
“It’s not like that,” you mutter, not knowing what to do in this situation.
“For your sake, I hope it’s just with Lance. If you even remotely like him… then you’re doomed, girls that fall for Lance get their hearts broken the quickest.” Bryon tells you solemnly and you nod once. “Rich boys don’t have hearts.” He raises his drink and clinks it with your empty glass.
You raise an eyebrow. “How do you know that? Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person, not that it’s me but I think he still has some hope, he isn’t completely lost like his father.”
“I would know because I am one,” Bryon shrugged. “And I quote the man himself, back in 2004, ‘Harrison Lancelot Tucker will never, ever, love again.’, every womaniser has one love that led them on their path of destruction.” You furrowed your eyebrows about to ask who’s Lance was but feel an arm wrap around your wait, Bryon rolls his eyes but smiles still at you.
“I see you met the alcoholic younger brother, what lies is spouting out this time?” Lance’s voice rings through your ear. “Don’t you and your family have another life to ruin?” Lance sneers slightly, you sigh and give an apologetic look to Bryon who just grins at Lance as he pulls you away, “didn’t I tell you not to speak to any of the guys around here, they’re all useless.”
The ride in the elevator is silent as Lance undoes his tie, uncuffing the links of the shirt he is wearing. You sigh gently as you look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, admittedly you had fun pretending to be his girlfriend; the dressing up in fancy dresses, the champagne and luxury, it was entirely different to your life. Even growing up with your own parents it wasn’t this lavish, you had money and plenty of it but the parties, fancy dresses never came with it.
Honestly, the fact Lance had been nice to you and opened up was also great. After how he had been treating you, you didn’t think you’d ever be friends with him but now, you could totally see yourself having a friendlier time at work. You didn’t feel so worthless around him anymore, you actually felt like somebody to him rather than just not an athlete.
“So,” you start as you enter the penthouse suite, “you have siblings?” You ask with a smile as Lance groans, throwing his tie on the back of the sofa and taking his suit jacket off too.
He nods unbuttoning the first three buttons of his dress shirt. “Four of them, five if you count my mother’s goddaughter.” He admits, he looks at you and you lean against the bar with a wide grin, he rolls his eyes. “Well, you met Bryon, the annoying one. Kinda still an alcoholic but he goes to those AA meetings, so I am told. James and Lucas, they’re twins, also athletes,” he chuckles at that. “Well, if you can call non-medalist athlete’s then they’re athlete’s.” You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, “And then there’s Fiona, we don’t talk about her because she has been disowned by my father for having an affair with his second-or was it his third wife? I can never remember, but she’s my favourite sibling. I believe they’re married now or engaged.” He shrugged crossing his arms with a slight smile.
“Wow, that sounds… hectic,” you confess and he just shrugs again. “How do the holidays work? Where do you go? Who do you buy for?”
Lance chuckles. “I’ve never celebrated Christmas or Thanksgiving, the only holiday I do is Halloween and that’s because girls insist on dressing up as my favourite, a sexy nurse.” He winks in your direction and your mouth drops open. “You really need to make your FaceBook private.” He laughs as you flip him off. “Holidays are for normal families, so my dad said. I wasn’t a normal kid and my gift was winning medals, he celebrated Christmas with his other families though, they weren’t athlete’s.” The slight bitter tone made you feel unpleasant and bad for Lance but you shrugged it off.
“God, your life is so depressing.” You comment and he chuckles, “I mean, your childhood, I take it your life now is alright. Fame, money and women whenever you want, but before then… sad.” He rolls his blue eyes. “Thanks for sharing all this with me-”
Lance cuts you off with a scoff. “Shut up, please don’t get all sappy with me. I only shared because you witnessed everything first hand, if you hadn’t shown up we wouldn’t be having any of these conversations nor be stood here. So, thanks for coming when I text but in future, never do that again.” he points fake sternly and you nod an amused smile on your face. “Now, you should sleep, we breakfast with my mother in the morning and then you’re leaving to go home.” You raise an eyebrow, slight concern. “I told my mum you had an important Uni thing and couldn’t stay, you’re welcome.”
“You know, when you aren’t being an asshole, you’re kinda okay.” You tell him softly before walking off to your room, Lance watched you leave, carrying your heels in one hand giving a small wave as you walk through the door and softly closing it.
He sighed slightly, walking off to his own room but a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach told him to go knock on your door. He paces his room for several minutes, gnawing on his bottom lip till he’s sure that his usually soft lips are chapped and sore. He opens his own door again, walking down the hall towards yours and stops in front of it, sighing softly to himself and leaning against the wall opposite he stares blankly at the door.
Shaking his head he pushes off the wall, walking slowly to the sofas. He had too much to drink, that was it. He just had an urge that’s all, he’s used to partying and coming back with a lady and having his own fun, this time he couldn’t because it was you. Not that he wouldn’t, he just couldn’t do that. Couldn’t have sex with you and leave the next morning… because you work for him, that’s all. Nothing else other than that.
(sorry it took me so long to get this part out, I was writing other series and let myself get side-tracked. - Rosalie)
Gina pulled him toward her by his prick, then bent forward and swallowed his throbbing cock as he shot one thick stream after another into her eager mouth. She bobbed her head back and forth furiously, extracting every drop of juice from him. He dropped the camera and grabbed her head, ramming himself into her mouth over and over. Gina was a pro at this and she never lost her stride as the two of them consummated their new sexual relationship.
All I could do was watch. Frankly, I didn’t want them to stop. I moved up by her side and cleared her hair away from her face then pulled it to her back. I reached around and fondled her tits as I watched her suck the life out of his cock relentlessly. Finally, he began to soften and she stopped, spun around into my arms and buried her face in my chest. She began to cry.
“I’m so sorry, Rick, I couldn’t help myself, we both agreed I wouldn’t go this far.”
“We both agreed to talk it over with Ron, and you did, I was a little busy pushing your horniness over the top. I’m as much to blame as you are, please don’t be upset on my account. You know I loved watching the two of you, I only wish I could have joined in somehow. Maybe I wouldn’t be so fucking horny myself now.”
She looked up at me with her tearful eyes and I kissed them both before kissing her passionately. I picked up the taste of Ron’s cum in her mouth as our tongues intertwined, she was right, he did taste good.
“Oh, then I guess I need to take care of you now,” she said, as she pushed me on my back.
She got on her knees and took me in her mouth sucking and stroking me at the same time. Her ass was sticking up toward Ron and I guess it was more than he could resist. He spread her cheeks and dove face first into her ass licking and kissing like a wild man. Gina’s body contorted and she groaned with my cock in her mouth. I raised my head to see what was going on and saw Ron hard at it.
“Get out of there, Ron, we didn’t say you could do that.” I yelled.
He stopped and leaned back against the wall staring at her juicy pussy and ass. Meanwhile, I was getting close as Gina expertly worked me over. Her head bobbed up and down very quickly and she reached between my legs to my ass and toyed with my sphincter. That was all I needed and I blew my load into her waiting mouth as she swallowed over and over again.
When I was done, she lay beside me, resting her head on my hip near my limp cock. There was a long silence, as Gina scraped my thighs with her nails and kissed my cock every so often. Ron was sitting on the carpet with his back to the wall, facing us. He kept looking at us with a strange expression, not happy and not angry, just strange.
“I love you two, you know,” he finally spoke. “But I don’t think this is a good thing, we’ll regret what we’re doing sooner or later. I love looking at Gina, you have no idea how much, and watching the two you having sex is mind blowing. But I’m getting in too deep now and I have to pull back.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Ron. We never wanted to hurt you or upset you. We went too far the last time and still farther again today. You’re probably right, we need to stop before we hurt our friendship.”
We all got up and got dressed again. For the rest of the day, we returned to our normal routine, and Ron left in the early evening. That night in bed, Gina and I talked things over some more.
“Gosh, how could we blow it so badly,” I thought out loud. “What were we thinking? You know he won’t be back, at least for a while.”
“Really, you think so?” She said. “I feel so terrible now. How can we make it up to him?”
“We can’t. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
The following week Ron said he had important business to take care of and for two months it was the same story. He just dropped out of our lives. We both missed him terribly, but we knew he needed space now.
One day we had a call from him and he sounded like his old self. As he spoke with Gina, he told her he had a new woman in his life called June and he wanted us to meet her. We were ecstatic and arranged for them to come over on the weekend.
On Saturday, Ron pulled into our driveway and we watched as the two of them got out of his car and came to the door. She looked Asian and was tall, a good three inches taller than Ron. She had long black hair to her waist and a slender, almost skinny build as she walked up with confidence and grace. I opened the screen door and held it as they entered.
“Ron, honey,” Gina said as she hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “And this is June? Welcome.” she hugged and kissed her as well.
I shook hands with them both as well and we all went out to the back. We had set out a pitcher of drinks and snacks and we all sat in deck chairs to talk.
“Boy, it’s been a long time, I really missed you guys,” Ron said, “How have you been doing?”
“Good,” I said, “We’ve gotten more active in the neighbourhood and made some new friends.”
“Still go to that beach?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Gina said. “as often as we can. It’s a big part of who we are.”
June looked confused. “Is that the nude beach? How can that be such a big part of your life?”
“Well, I don’t know how much Ron filled you in…”
“She knows everything,” Ron said.
“Everything?” Gina tilted her head.
“Everything,” he answered.
“Well, then, you already should know the answer to your question June, Rick and I are exhibitionists in a big way. We love to expose ourselves in every way possible. It’s what turns us on and we can’t do without it.”
“And sex?” June asked. “Are you swingers as well?”
Gina was becoming visibly perturbed by June’s questions. I decided to jump in before things went south.
“OK, ten minutes into a new friendship and we’re already into sex, that’s a new record, even by our standards,” I laughed. “The answer is no, June, we’re not swingers. Are you?”
June stiffened at my turning the tables.
“Well, since I know so much about you, it’s only fair you know a little about me. Yes, I have had multiple partner sex in the past, a lot. But that was another life and it’s not my thing any more.”
“You know, can we start over,” Gina said, “Rick and I love Ron, and he cares a great deal for you. Welcome to our home, June, I sincerely hope we’ll be the best of friends as well.”
June beamed at Gina’s suggestion and squeezed her hand in friendship. For the next few hours we all just talked and got to know June better. She was not what I ever thought Ron would find for a girlfriend. She was poised and extremely articulate, obviously very well educated. She had a good job with a bank and owned a home in Ron’s area.
They had met while out jogging and hit it off immediately. What really cinched the deal was the fact that she also was a music buff and they had similar tastes. I was happy for him. She was a real catch.
“I feel like a swim, did you bring your suits?” Gina asked.
“Yes, we did,” June said, “but do we really need them? Your back yard looks very private.”
“It is, and no, you don’t,” Gina beamed, “skinny dipping it is.”
We all stripped and jumped straight into the pool.
“You did good,” Gina said to Ron as we bobbed around in the pool, “this girl is a keeper.”
“I know,” Ron said, “I had a great example to learn from.”
“Don’t get me all weepy, now,” Gina said. “Boy, did we miss you.”
We swam for an hour at least then got back out of the pool. None of us dressed again. Gina went into the house to refresh the snacks and June got up to join her.
As June stood, I examined her more carefully. Her body was extra lean and she had small breasts with small areolas but huge nipples. They stuck out what seemed like an inch and were as thick as pencils. She had a small, tight ass and there was a thin three-inch strip of hair on her mound. Her inner labia were large and hung down about an inch from her pussy. It wasn’t my favorite body type but she was still sexy as hell. I guess she felt me scrutinizing her and looked me in the eye.
“You like what you see?” She asked.
“Yes, of course. How could I not?” I said, “Please, excuse me, I’m afraid I’m as much a voyeur as an exhibitionist.”
“Look all you want,” she said, “with a beautiful wife like yours, I’m flattered you’re giving me a second look.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s fair,” I said, “how about you, Ron? June, you’re in a class all your own, my dear.”
“Mm, very smooth, Rick, I like you and right now, the dampness between my legs agrees.” She went into the house.
“Okay, well that was a little awkward for me,” I told Ron. “I’m not making a play here, Ron, please believe me.”
“Don’t worry, Rick. June just tells it like it is. She won’t be grabbing your cock when no one’s looking. We have an open relationship, anyway. She sleeps with other guys she knows, as well, and I’m fine with it. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, besides you two.”
“Damn, it’s so good to have you back in our lives, Ron. I love you, buddy.”
The women came back out and we all enjoyed the rest of the day thoroughly. That night as Gina and I got ready for bed, she told me something about June. She said that while they were alone together in the kitchen, June fondled her ass as she prepared the food.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“I was shocked,” she said, “but also turned on at the same time. When I looked at her she just apologized and said she couldn’t resist such a beautiful ass. I asked if I could see her nipples closer and touch them and she said sure, as long as she could touch my breasts, as well. We played with each other for quite a while before I snapped out of it.”
“Damn, I wish I could have seen that,” I said.
“Yeah, it was pretty hot,” she admitted. “I’ve never done that with a woman before. Only when I was a kid and exploring with my best friend.”
“Mm there’s another one I want to hear about,” I said. “Let’s get in bed, I think we both have some energy to work off now.”
Ron was never as frequent a visitor as he once was, but he came by with June often. Their relationship lasted for several years until they finally broke up. Ron just got tired of sharing her, I guess. Occasionally, he came over alone, and we always went naked, but nothing more, we never went down that road again.
I’ve just finished reading the Cosmopolitan article and I am absolutely disgusted. Let’s start from the beginning, cause I feel like media don’t understand some simple things.
reputation noun [ C usually singular, U ] UK /ˌrep.jəˈteɪ.ʃən/ US /ˌrep.jəˈteɪ.ʃən/
the opinion that people in general have about someone or something, or how much respect or admiration someone or something receives, based on past behaviour or character.
THE OPINION THAT PEOPLE IN GENERAL HAVE ABOUT SOMEONE OR SOMETHING. The opinion. That. People in general. have. So why Cosmo is saying that Taylor is responsible for her reputation when clearly general public, people who aren’t fans of her, base their opinion mostly on articles written by the media? Some of you probably will say, ‘Oh it’s because media write articles and call her out for her mistakes so the reputation is based on her behaviour ha, if she was a good girl, she would have a good reputation.’ But let me tell you something. The media are the ones that change facts and portray Taylor as a bad, evil, nazi, Trump supporter, serial dater, fake feminist, snake. She has NEVER done ANYTHING they charge her for. But wait, Cosmo goes further, they even add some examples of “bad” things Taylor has done:
She’s the person who called out Kanye West - wow, what a crime. Singer-songwriter, probably one of the most hard-working in this industry wanted a credit for her fame, because she didn’t want the man saying ‘I made that bitch famous’ when he clearly didn’t. She didn’t want her naked body to be used without the permission. She just wanted the truth. What a crime I am telling you, woman standing up for herself. I am literally on the floor.
- She’s the person who dated Tom Hiddleston and Calvin Harris - another huge crime. Taylor Swift dated TWO GUYS, IN THE SAME YEAR. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS??? She fell in love, she broke up with the guy and then she started dating another guy. She should go to jail for this. Not like most of you probably have done that in your life but let’s attack Taylor Swift, she can’t date anyone. She’s Satan.
- She’s the person who used her squad for publicity - SURE. Of course, she is the one who kept asking her friends about herself in every interview devoted to their work and their projects, she analysed every picture of them together posted on social media, she created fake fights between them. She is guilty of that. Lmao.
- She’s the person who espoused a shallow feminism that does nothing to help women in any tangible way - Taylor Swift, like many other female and male celebrities decided not to speak up about her political views and not to attend Women Marches just because she wants us, fans, to be responsible for our own choices, decisions and views. She has never said she supports Trump. Moreover her friend Todrick Hall told you that she doesn’t. She did A LOT for women and women’s rights, she just didn’t go to national TV to announce that. She helped Kesha, she helped numerous organisations supporting women. But yeah, since she didn’t scream about it every day she’s a fake feminist. But wait… media called her that.
So to sum up. Taylor Swift is the very last person to be responsible for her reputation. Media have been portraying her in a wrong way for years, they were changing their minds basing their opinion about her on what’s more clickable. And saying they were giving her ‘good reviews’ when it comes about her music and songs, so she shouldn’t blame them is ridiculous because it has nothing to do with a reputation. And now when she’s giving them nothing, they decided to start a classic victim-blaming and treat us, her fans, like brainwashed idiots that aren’t able to form critical views. Well, dear Cosmo, Taylor Swift has never discouraged me from thinking critically, I think it’s quite the opposite. That’s why I can smell your bullshit everywhere. Sincerely, a Swiftie.
If the 1930s witnessed the birth of the horror film as a genre, the 1940s was the genre’s coming of age. Under producer Val Lewton, many of the most notable and enduring horror films of the 40s refreshed and advanced the motifs already finding firmament in the genre. At the same time, Lewton, Jacques Tourneur and other filmmakers established new conventions still used today.
Cat People (1942) was Val Lewton’s first big hit and it’s no wonder why. The characters feel fully modern and there is greater focus on how characters cope psychologically with the horrors that beset them. The costuming and visual design is tight and makes the most of a small budget. The cinematography was done by Nicholas Murasca, who also shot the stellar Out of the Past (1947) and was nominated for an Oscar for his work on I Remember Mama (1948). Simone Simon’s performance as Irena is convincingly lonely, brooding, and neurotic without ever going over the top.
The film begins when Irena Dubrovna, a sketch artist, runs into Oliver “Ollie” Reed, a marine engineer, while working on sketches of a black panther at the Central Park Zoo. They hit it off and she invites him to tea. Irena lives alone in a beautiful brownstone apartment in Manhattan. She admits that her only friends are her coworkers, who we never see in the film. Irena relates a legend about her village in Serbia. When her people were enslaved, they turned to witchcraft and satan worship. King John freed them from slavery and killed the satan worshippers, but it’s rumored that the most wicked survived. Irena and Ollie quickly fall in love, though, oddly, they never even kiss. They marry and still Irena maintains a distance. Ollie worries that Irena is obsessed with old-country folklore and it’s keeping her from committing fully to their marriage. Irena becomes increasingly upset that she isn’t able to be like other women. Her jealousy and neuroses are gradually building up. Ollie’s co-worker, Alice, suggests she go to see a psychologist Dr. Judd. Dr. Judd’s therapy seems to help but it’s too late for Irena and Ollie’s marriage. Ollie has fallen in love with Alice and Irena’s paranoia has been borne out. Can Irena cope? Are her fears about ancestral legends rational after all?
Like with Dracula’s Daughter (1936), which I covered for the 1930s, Cat People deals with similar conflicts of identity. However, unlike the Countess Zaleska, Irena isn’t sure who she really is and we follow her through the film on her journey - and get lost with her between the lines of reality and the imagined. It’s a fascinating and a modern feeling movie.
The costuming and styling in Cat People is incredibly consistent. The costumes were done by Renie, a very prolific costume designer primarily for RKO. Irena is a professional woman and her wardrobe reflects that. She’s always in suits and stylish dresses that keep a to the menswear-inspired silhouette popular in the 1940s that reflected the increasing commonality of women working outside the home.
Irena’s stylish suits set her clearly as a modern working woman living in a very fashionable city but she’s always fitted with a few elements that put her just a touch out of step. Irena’s trademarks are large decorative brooches or corsages on her lapel, never wearing hats, and always wearing sling-back heels, even if there are inches of snow on the ground.
Cat People also uses one of my favorite conventions in horror movies, altering makeup, hair, and costuming as a character descends into whatever curse, thrall, or old evil is encroaching on their identity. It’s done quite subtly in this film. They take advantage of the season changing to have her whip out a winter coat of a dark fur-like material to evoke the black panther she has an increasingly morbid connection to. Following Ollie breaking up with her, her eye makeup gets just a bit darker. As Irena’s curse overtakes her, her hair gets a little less well-kempt and she’s seen less often with her previously ever-present head scarf.
The key elements of Irena’s costuming are her headscarf, tailored skirt suits with long-sleeved blouses and jackets, low slingback heels, and an ostentatious piece of jewelry on her lapel. And, of course, the black overcoat.
Since the costuming is pretty conservative, there shouldn’t be much difference between a closet and full cosplay. So this will just be one look with suggestions on how to ramp it up or down.
Makeup in the 1940s was relatively natural. One the US was involved in WWII, many products were unavailable so minimalist looks were in. However, wearing red lipstick was a must and considered a patriotic gesture.
First I laid down a base with foundation and powder for a matte look. Powder alone would be more accurate for the character IRL because foundation was still not a product most women would have worn in the 1940s. Do what you’re most comfortable with!
Irena’s eye makeup is minimal, focused primarily on lashes. I covered my eyelids with a neutral shade not too different from my skin tone. Then I took a taupe grey and ran it across my mobile lid, blending it very lightly above the crease. I took what was left on the brush and ran it along my lower lashline. I mixed a little bit of green in with the taupe and brought that only over the mobile lid to deepen the shadow. Green was one of the eyeshadow colors available on the market in the 40s and it was trendy to use shadows that matched your eye color.
The lashes are one of Irena’s most striking features, so I went into the upper waterline with black liner to make my lashes look thicker.
I then applied a few generous coats of black mascara. If you don’t want to use false lashes, I’d recommend a good fiber mascara. I thought the falsies were a little too dramatic for Irena so I went without. Either way it should look reasonably natural.
Brows should be lightly filled with powder just slightly darker than your hair and not too blocky at the head. Irena’s are sharply tapered at the ends, so I used brow pencil for that.
Irena’s lips are small and pouty with a well defined cupid’s bow. I blended concealer into the sides of my lips and reduced the size of my lower lip just slightly to make them look more even. It’s the 1940s so of course I went for red lips starting with a lip brush to carve out the shape and filled it in with lipstick from the bullet.
To get matte lips that will stay for ages using a traditional lipstick, this is my great aunt’s method: Apply a full coat of the lipstick, use tissue to blot, then hold a piece of tissue to your lips and take a transparent setting powder on a fluffy brush and blend across the lips, lastly, apply another light coat of the lipstick to bring the color back up.
I’ve seen a lot of the criticism of the karamel ship online has been that she is supergirl and she should be “independent” and she “doesn’t need anybody”. Like it somehow demeaning that she chose to date someone and it makes her less serious about her responsibilities as Supergirl?
This just hits close to home and reminds me so much of the current working world (corporate primarily) and the pressure that women are under recently. They essentially expect every woman be supergirl if they want to progress upwards. To work twice as hard as the men and to sacrifice personal lives, work around the clock, always be acessible, not have children, etc just to be taken seriously and be considered for promotion over a man etc… It’s family or career. You choose.
I just need to say this though, especially to the younger fans… I want you to know you can have it all! Or can at least go for it. Never let the years pass to where you look back and think of all the things you could have done but didn’t, all the friends and experiences you missed out on because you felt like Kara did last season… that you have to sacrifice your happiness and/or personal life to be successful and serious about your work life.