I’ve always been kind of self conscious about the way my face looks when I laugh- like a thousand chins appear, my nose crinkles, and my eyes disappear into my face. 😶 I always wanted one of those *perfect Neutrogena commercial face washing smiles* but I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that I look genuinely happiest when I’m laughing the hardest. We are sooo incredibly critical of ourselves and our appearances, but it’s important to remember our exterior appearance is nothing without our interior presence. Happy hump day, folks. Discover something new that you love about yourself today!
Zayn looks like he has dry skin but pop some coppery gold metallic eyeliner on him and his eyes will sparkle I swear
I literally feel like a capillary exploded in my left eyeball at the accusation that Zayn has dry skin. I’ve seen some shit thrown his way on this site BUT the very implication that Zayn Javadd Malik, one of the premiere hair and skincare innovators of our GENERATION, does not moisturize and exfoliate and use serums is a slight on his character that I WILL NOT LET STAND.
LET’S GET SOME HQS UP IN THIS BITCH
Look at that texture, LOOK AT IT. I bet even babies touch his face and are like
Even in an amateur photo Zayn’s even skin tone and micro pores make him look like he’s starring in “The English Patient”. WHEN WILL YOUR FAVE EVER
This is a candid but he might as well tell everyone else to go home. He looks like he’s about to star in a Neutrogena commercial
IN SUMMATION, Zayn has reached the heights of skincare at a mere 24 years old that most will never achieve in a lifetime.
like this is just “i dont condone being fat because it immediately signifies unhealthiness” all over again lol like how attractive/acceptable you find someones physical appearance does not usually correlate with their health or hygiene! and even if it always did you do not care about their health or hygiene u care about keeping your precious retinas safe from eyesores such as women who dont look like they hopped rite out of a neutrogena commercial!
Lily looks up at her potential co-star, whose name she’s already forgotten. Ben Cute-Hair-Weird-Eyes Something. She hopes to God they don’t cast him, he delivers his lines like they’re in a college production of Our Town, all boyish charm and theater-trained intensity on cue. She leans in to kiss him, then -
“Thank you, Ben, we’ll be in touch,” says Nancy the casting director.
Lily pulls back and smiles at Ben politely. He’s cute in a Neutrogena commercial way, but he smells like an ad for Axe Body Spray and she bets he’d kiss like a public service announcement. She glances at Nancy, who’s already scrolling through her smartphone and doing her best impression of Very Busy Casting Director Lady. If people were rain, Nancy was a freak occurrence LA thunderstorm that casually ruined your day on its way to the Caribbean.
Once again, i don’t know how I feel over these. I’m on the fence.
He had been writing songs about you before you two even met. The sunkissed beauty always featured in the stupid ‘stars: they’re just like us’ snippets, the bold cherub eyes that fluttered in the Neutrogena commercials, right at him, before splashing refreshing water over your flawless skin. You were something of a dream woman to Ashton and he had your picture framed in the back of his mind before 5 Seconds of Summer ever took off. It wasn’t until he started seeing a blur of you in real life, your buttered arms passing by in a haze of hues backstage at events, that he realized you were human and within his grasp (even if out of his league). The problem was you were no longer simply famous for being the granddaughter of two television legends or a sitcom princess yourself now, you were blowing up blogs and often magazine websites daily for your very tumultuous relationship with another grandchild of a legend, Steven R McQueen.
“I could fucking kill him.” Sat next to you, Ashton was glaring off to the side over the sea of people in the audience of the Teen Choice Awards. He was sitting between you and Calum while you had two cast mates from your sitcom, Forget Frank, on your other side.
Everyone seemed to think they knew everything about your relationship with Steven, you had heard it all from a handful of sources, but few people actually knew the truth. Ashton was one of those few people. You had been reluctant to date him as he introduced himself to you on the NBC lot only a month after things ended (badly) with Steven and you didn’t feel at all ready, but you reconsidered since he agreed to move at a snail’s pace with you. It was three weeks into being with Ashton when you flew out to Toronto to visit him and when you walked into the hotel found him a blubbering drunk mess. The next morning, he had to beg you to talk to him, so you chose then to lie down beside him, clothed under the comfort of the hotel bed spread, and explain that Steven had become such a hard partier during the last six months of your two year relationship that he became a mega asshole. He would drink himself into a state of oblivion, destroy your verbally, trash your home and hotel rooms, and then expect you to deal with it all in the morning. You explained that you had broke up with Steven once before you two were actually done for good, but he had broken into your place and insisted that you two get back together, threatening to leak the racy photos you had once sent him as well as a video of you naked in the shower he had taken. Ashton knew the truth and now it felt like torture for him to be sitting only mere feet away from your ex who had caused you a good amount of mental damage.
“Don’t even look that way.” You mumbled, reaching up and adjusting the hat on Ashton’s head before locking your hand in his and holding it on top of your bare knee, your cocktail length dress showing enough leg that Ashton had panted when he first saw you.
It seemed every commercial break, you had to tilt Ashton’s face away from Steven’s direction. The imprint of hate from Ashton’s glare practically imprinted on the back of Steven’s head now. Your ex had brought his own date, a peroxide blond who looked like she wasn’t a part of the twelve step program he swore to you that he was in, but you tried not to think about it. You were with Ashton now and you were happy, Steven was just a part of your history and you would happily leave him there where he belonged.
Ashton’s grip tightened on yours, lifting up both your hands together to kiss your knuckles, as the category for Best Summer Song was being read. Sure, it was just a Teen Choice Award, but it was their first nomination and it was exciting to be up for anything. Ashton would have been just as anxious if their category was Greatest Twitcam.
On stage, Taissa Farmiga along with Taylor Lautner, read out ‘She Looks So Perfect – 5 Seconds of Summer’ and practically cued the song to play overhead as the mad screaming around you began with applause. Ashton had pumped your fists outward together and leaned in to kiss you before standing up to follow the boys on stage.
Proud of him, you were grinning from ear to ear as you watched him on the big screen following Calum, high fiving others as they made it to stage. It wasn’t until he was passing by the large section where the whole cast of The Vampire Diairies was sitting that remembered he would pass right by Steven’s aisle seat. Steven reached out his hand, but Ashon very obviously backed away, shooting him the middle finger and shaking his head.
“I’ll fucking kill you.” He told the actor, sheer poison oozing from his formerly beaming eyes. “I’ll fucking kill you.” Ashton said once more before jogging up the steps to the microphone, a smile on his face.
It wasn’t until it became the most GIFed moment of the night that you realized exactly what Ashton had said, sparking a Twitter feud between Vampire Diairies fans an 5SOS fans everywhere.
“Do you think he’s funnier than me?” His head had been resting on your shoulder while you were drifting to sleep on the long flight from Australia to New York. Your eyes slowly opened and you glanced over at Calum with his white earbuds in his ears, the screen in front of him playing Meet the Millers. Neither you or Calum thought you two would take off and it seemed like nobody else did either. You were going to just be a last minute end of summer fling, but that was almost a year ago and you were still attached to the hip. He had managed to curb his horndog ways and only had eyes and hands for you now while you had cut off your loose ends on account of being completely wrapped up in the doe-eyed Australian boy. However, there was one thing that Calum had yet to grow comfortable with and that was your ex. Will Poulter. He was a fan of Will himself before he was jokingly Googling you and found all the images of a much younger you and a much younger Will wandering around the UK together, hand in hand, and sharing your first kisses with one another. He hadn’t any idea you two were ever a thing, meeting through both guest starring on the same daytime soap opera.
“No.” You answered, knowing it was the only thing you could say. Will was hilarious and so was Calum, you never put them on a scale against one another.
“So, he never made you laugh?” Pulling out one earbud and lifting his head from your shoulder, Calum pressed for more information.
“No, he did. Of course, he did.” You rolled your sleepy eyes back, thinking of hundreds of different times that Will nearly split your sides open from cracking so many jokes or doing such on point impressions. He was Will Poulter after all. “You’re both very funny, Calum.” Simply, you grumbled. This wasn’t the first time you two had had a conversation like this, it was always Calum who started it though.
“I wouldn’t break up with him. I don’t know how you could move on from him. He’s awesome.” He mumbled, picking up his earphone off of his chest and pushing it back into his vacant ear. That was how Calum always tried to look at it. You used to be with someone that he really liked, but he couldn’t ignore the flipside of the coin either. You used to be with someone that he felt was way more talented than he was. Will was a master of his craft while Calum still felt like the same idiot with a guitar in his basement that he had been a few years ago. He was just a jack convincing a kingdom he had talent while Will truly did. He had convinced himself that one day you figure out what a loser he was and leave him, probably for Will or someone even more talented.
Calum concentrated on the film he had seen a handful of times before, his head back on your shoulder as you started to drift off again.
“Do you keep in touch with him?” After laughing at a joke in the movie, he asked, his eyes hypnotized by the screen’s blue glow.
“A bit.” You weren’t going to lie to Calum. Will reached out to ask how you were on occasion or to congratulate you whenever he heard you landed a role or an audition. Your career hadn’t blossomed yet, but you were on the list of a lot of different director’s in the UK as someone to watch out for. You also sent Will the occasional message to congratulate him or just see how he was. He was the one who ended things, but you two were always civil. You understood that he was becoming very busy with his own career and it wasn’t fair to either of you to stay together. He had a career to take care of and it required so much of his attention that it kept him from giving you very much and you weren’t interested in just waiting around for someone who couldn’t be there.
“Really?” Calum had been expecting you to say ‘no’, just a simple ‘no’, and he would have let it al go. He adjusted himself up on his airplane seat and took out both of his earphones right away. “You guys talk?”
“Every so often.” You shrugged, finally accepting that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep for a while. “We were good friends for a long time.”
“I don’t know how I feel about that.” Pensively, he shared out loud before pressing his upper body deeper into the chair, crossing his arms over himself and shrugging his face together like a raisin in the sun.
“It’s not like we’re sexting.” You assured him, reaching over to take Calum’s hand, but he childishly turned himself away.
“Don’t even joke. I don’t want to think about that.”
“Are you telling me you don’t talk to other girls?” You tested him, your own arms crossed now as you lifted up your brows wondering if he was about to lie to you or not. You knew very well that Calum still liked to get his flirt on on occasion and you rarely made any noise about it. You chose to trust him instead of argue. Besides, you knew that Ashton and his big mouth would inform you if any funny business took place behind your back.
“I have female friends, yeah, but nobody I used to be with. You two were like childhood sweethearts or whatever!” He was raising his voice and while the plane wasn’t packed, you held a finger to your lips anyway as if to tell him to be quieter.
“Are you that insecure?” As soon as you asked, you wished that you hadn’t.
“I am not fucking insecure. I just don’t want my girlfriend talking to her ex.”
“You know what, it’s not like I ever loved him, we were kids…” And you both had been so thankful to have one another while operating the strange world of the entertainment business together. “But, I guess I won’t be able to come to the Letterman show with you and watch you guys perform then, if you really don’t want me to have anything to do with Will.”
“Why the fuck is that?” Steaming, Calum asked with a glare. You knew his angry eyes were meant for you, but he was giving them to Will’s face on the screen attached to the back of Luke’s chair.
“He’s being interviewed before you all play.” You adjusted yourself in your chair, trying to become more comfortable again and shut your eyes. “He was looking forward to meeting you. He wanted to go to a pub after.” You said before swallowing and pulling your jacket over your legs as a makeshift blanket. There was some worry that if you two kept bickering, you wouldn’t stop, so you decided to sleep. If when you woke up, he was still upset, you would deal with it then.
“Will Poulter wants to meet me?” You could hear his fingers stop playing with the cords of his earbuds. It was actually amazing how quickly Calum could go from jealous boyfriend to happy fanboy. “When did he tell you this? Why didn’t you tell me?” It didn’t even register when Calum that in order to have told you he wanted to hang out with Calum that Will would have had to have texted you. He didn’t care.
Calum was pulling at your shoulder, trying to bring you to face him again.
“Will is a fan. He sent me a video of him singing Disconnected…” You grumbled, slowly opening your eyes on your now excited, but previously torn up boyfriend. “You are all over the place, you know that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me he was a fan?”
“Because any time anyone mentions him, you’re like a puppy that’s been kicked in the face.”
“This is fucking awesome!” Calum exclaimed, earning a hush from Liz who was sitting next to her son in front of you. Calum grabbed Luke’s chair and shook it vigorously, waking him up. “We’re going to meet Will fucking Poulter.”
“Maybe, you won’t be so weird about him after you two meet.” Smiling, you tried to be optimistic. The idea of your ex boyfriend and current boyfriend being buds was actually quite appealing.
“The fucking king of Australia! Liam Fucking Hemsworth.”
Michael was not happy.
He marched back and forth around your large master bedroom, making himself known in all corners, as you sorted through paperwork and mail on top of your bed, sitting teepee style in your favorite pair of sweatpants, bright in color, and a comfortable t-shirt.
“You’re acting like you had no idea we used to date.” In fact, everyone there considered you two as Australia’s Sweethearts. You were practically national treasures and people actually wept on the beach when your breakup was announced via The Ellen Show.
It had been difficult for Michael to not compare himself to Liam when you two were together. He always sucked in his stomach when his shirt was removed or apologized for not being as suave. At first, you were always patient and kind, telling him that you would choose him over anyone any day and you loved him endlessly for who he was, but now it was just annoying. You two had just celebrated being together for one year. If you were still wishing for Liam, you would go and be with Liam. Unbeknownst to Michael, you had that option. You were the one who pulled the plug on your former relationship and you knew that you could have Liam if you wanted him back.
“How could I ever forget?” Whipping around after glaring at birds out the window, Michael shouted while rubbing at the back of his neck. “My grandmother asks you every time she sees you how Liam is doing.” It was true. Everyone in Australia loved the Hemsworth boys as if they were their own. Everyone, but Michael.
“Michael, I won’t go if you are uncomfortable with it, but you don’t have any reason to be.” Amongst your organized piles, you relocated the invitation to a night at the Sydney Opera House, honoring Liam’s achievements in philanthropy, and waved it over at your upset boyfriend. “You could come though. It says I have a plus one.” Part of you wanted to go, after all, and support your ex and his charitable cause. It would look good for everyone’s image, too. Besides, you knew that once Michael met Liam, he would like him just as much as everyone else seemed to. He was a good guy at his best and worst.
“I can’t go. I’d be arrested for trying to assassinate The World’s Favorite Aussie.” He practically growled, crossing his arms over his heaving chest as he let himself fall back into the cushioned chair that was new to your bedroom, sitting right in front of your large window and being doused in afternoon sun.
“Why are you planning to kill Hugh Jackman?” Sounding as sincere as you did when you reminded Michael how perfect he was and then giggled at your own joke, even your eyes lighting up.
“You’re not funny.” Through a plump pout, Michael mumbled and glared at you from his spot across the room. “How would you feel if I used to date, like, Pam Anderson and she still texted me and stuff?”
“Honestly?” Dropping your eyes low, you lifted your brows and asked him since you weren’t sure he was interested in your real answer, but Michael nodded and insisted that he did.
“I’d be a little concerned that you were with someone who has Hep C and is that much older than you,ut if you wanted to go hang out with her, be my guest.”
“You would not be that cool with it.” He charged forward, his ass on the edge of the chair, and accused.
“Pam Anderson? Yeah, I would. I’m pretty confident in my rack and your affection for it.” Not to mention you knew you had a far superior career to the former Baywatch babe. You hadn’t had to speak in a baby voice or run across a beach for anyone to give you anything, you had worked hard and sang at everything from rodeos to the Royal Albert without taking off your clothes once. “I wasn’t with Liam because he’s good looking and I’m not just with you because you’re good looking. I’m with you because there’s no one else in the fucking world I’d rather be with, but the last four months with Liam, I knew that it wasn’t right. I knew there was someone else out there for me and if I have to remind you of that again, I’ll start to wonder if there’s someone else out there besides you.” It was harsh, but the subject of your ex had become so old to you. If it wasn’t Michael who wanted to whine about it, someone with a camera and microphone was badgering you with questions about him. The only person who didn’t talk about Liam Hemsworth to you was Liam Hemsworth. You left your paper piles on the bed, four neat stacks, and stood up to leave the room, suddenly thirsty for a cold tumbler of something sweet.
You were right at the top of the staircase, just about to head down, when two arms pulled you back, keeping you close to a chest that had been much nicer to sleep over top of than your former boyfriend’s. You could smell Michael’s aftershave as he bowed his head onto your shoulder, kissing your neck with small, but noisy nibbles.
“I don’t mean to annoy you…” He spoke in the voice of a little boy, pouting out his bottom lip and planting another kiss on your neck. “I won’t bring him up again.” Michael promised knowing full well that he would still whine to everyone else about the fact that you used to be the Queen to Liam’s King.
“You promise?” Dead serious, you asked. You weren’t going to touch him unless you believed his word as true.
“Promise.” He was cradling you against his chest, but he reached down with one hand open to link a few of your fingers in his. “I love you.” He murmured into your shoulder.
“I love you.” Despite all his commotion, he really was the love of your life.
He wanted to be cool with it. He really wanted to support you the way you always supported him and his projects, but Luke was going out of his mind at the idea of you starring with your ex boyfriend again. He really felt like he could not compete with Robert Sheehan. Robert was pure talent that had lit up the stage alongside of you in The Boys from Syracuse, the show that you two had met and fallen for one another while in, and now he was about to be light up the screen in with you playing his Luciana.
“Is this sex scene really necessary?” While you had sworn to keep it confidential, Luke had picked up the large script off of the top of your nightstand and was flipping through it like a detective would a dishevelled hotel bedroom. “We get it Antipholus and Luciana love each other, we don’t need to see it…” Luke walked right behind you in the washroom where you were putting on your face for a night out and sat on the edge of the tub, the script open and folded between his knees. “It’s so descriptive too. You’re not okay with all of it, right? Antipholus assertively lifts Luciana by the hips, the sleeves of her dress fall from her shoulders and reveal herself…” He read it, his eyes scanning fast over the page as his head spun at the idea of Robert getting to touch you the way only he got to touch you now and seeing you naked. It was hard enough for Luke knowing that Robert had you first, but now he was going to get to be with you all over again. “Like, you can say you don’t want this, right? You can ask for a body double.” Luke knew a little bit about your industry as it overlapped into his, but he knew you were serious about this role, he knew how much it meant to you. He joked earlier that you would actually legally change your name to Luciana for it if it made a difference.
“Luke, we’re not actually going to be fornicating.” You chuckled while leaning into the bathroom counter, staring at your lashes as you slicked your wand over them to paint them as black as midnight oil. “There will be like ten camera men and Daren,” Your director. “there.” You babbled away, thinking it would help your boyfriend feel more at ease with things, but it didn’t. It seemed to just make Luke’s eyeballs enlarge even more so, the idea of you being topless in front of everyone giving him an instant headache. You noticed him rest the script on the edge beside him and hold his head. “If you want, you could probably come that day. Would that make you feel better?”
“I’d feel better if you let Emma Watson have the role.” Very sincerely, he mumbled into the palm of his hand.
“Well, that wasn’t very nice.” You dropped your hand from your face, the mascara wand held between two of your fingers like a lit cigarette, and stared over at your boyfriend who was acting like a child. “You know how much I want this.” The director had had a very hard time choosing between you and Emma, but ultimately stayed true to the latest stage production and went with you. “How would you like it if I said Ed Sheeran or something deserved a number one single over you or something like that?”
Instantly, Luke felt terrible for what he had said. He left he script on the tub and sat up slowly, bringing his hands to your bare shoulders, “I’m sorry.” He revealed, but the damage was still fresh for you and you barely held the apology coming from his blue eyes. “He’s your first boyfriend and this boyfriend is just a bit jealous.” He confessed what you already knew. “How can I compete with him, huh?”
“You don’t have to.” You reminded him, twisting in his hands in order to face the mirror again and slide one more coat of mascara over your dangerously long lashes.
“He can sing.” Luke began.
“You can sing.” Finding your boyfriend behind you in the mirror, you bent your eyebrows at him like he was insane. Luke was a singer for a living, Robert had been in one musical and then one movie where he sang (and not very well).
“He can dance.” Luke tried again.
“You can sing.” You watched Luke shoot you a glare before you closed your mascara and put it down, laughing as you slid up onto the bathroom counter and reaching out for him. “You have nothing to worry about. Yes, Robbie was my first boyfriend, but you’re the love of my life. So while you’re making a list of how awesome Robert Sheehan is, remember that the one I have for you is far longer, okay?” Your fingers were intertwined with Luke’s, his pout beginning to rise off of the floor and twist into a sheepish grin.
“I’ve got nothing to worry about?” One last time, he double checked.
“Absolutely nothing.” You pulled him just a bit closer, hands held as you brought his arms behind your back and his face low to kiss you.
“So I’m just being stupid?”
“The stupidest.” Whispering, you grinned before bringing your lips to his, assuring him that he would be on your mind, the whole time you were with Robert.