sick glasses

6

Greg Gianforte, GOP candidate in Montana election, allegedly assaults reporter Ben Jacobs

  • On Wednesday, Guardian political reporter Ben Jacobs claimed the Republican candidate in the 2017 special elections on Thursday, Greg Gianforte, “body slammed” him — resulting in law enforcement being summoned to the scene.
  • According to audio of the exchange posted by the Guardian, Jacobs was asking about a recent CBO analysis of the Republican plan to repeal and replace the Affordable Care Act before Gianforte flipped out, slamming him to the ground and breaking Jacobs’ glasses.
  • “I’m sick and tired of you guys,” Gianforte yelled. “The last guy who came here did the same thing. Get the hell out of here. Get the hell out of here. The last guy did the same thing. Are you with the Guardian?”
  • “Yes!” Jacobs responded. “You just broke my glasses.”
  • “The last guy did the same damn thing,” an angry Gianforte shot back.
  • “You just body slammed me and broke my glasses,” Jacobs said. Read more (5/24/17 9 PM)

Im sick rn, so i drew a super fast thing of harry to distract me from the fever 👏

anonymous asked:

Okok so it can be a scenario or a list of things idc buuuuut super insecure MC going to an art exhibit with V to find out that his entire gallery are beautiful pictures of her /a lot of them are nudes too because insecure but V obviously finds her beautiful/ and he wins?? And everyone finds the photos incredible. And she's never felt more happy and beautiful. I just want V to have a good happy damn ending with MC

This is wonderful yes! I’ll write this as V has his eyesight.

~Okay but I changed it just a little bit, I’m sorry. I love the idea but I also don’t want anyone putting nudes up of someone without their consent? So MC has said yes to the photos but hasn’t seen them so that’s the surprise okay? I hope you don’t mind!


[VxReader/MC]

Fluffy fluff <3

Word Count: 1,278


     “Don’t be nervous,” V spoke in that calm way of his.

     It was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one about to be put on display for everyone to see. Months ago he had asked if you would be his sole subject for an upcoming gallery. It was his big comeback after getting the eye surgery, and the only thing he said he wanted to shoot-was you. How he talked you into this, you’ll never know. Well…you did know. It’s because he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and the way he talked had you believe it yourself for the first time. But staring at your reflection in the mirror now, thinking about all those people who had been anxiously waiting for his return and packed in to the space like sardines gawking at the photos, your stomach was doing flips. What if they didn’t like them? V hadn’t even let you see the pictures, he said he ‘wanted it to be a surprise.’ You were standing in front of the bathroom mirror taking deep breaths to calm yourself and fumbling with the stupid clip of your necklace.

     V moved your hair to the side and took the clasp from your hands, kissing your neck softly after securing it. He rested his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you from behind. He smelled of his cologne.

     “Ready?” he hummed excitedly.

     “No,” you pouted.

     “It’s going to be alright,” he chuckled, “have faith in me.”


      Just as you expected, the space was packed. An uproarious applause incited by your arrival lasted for what seemed like an hour, and your cheeks were feeling hot. A few faces stuck out in the crowd of strangers. People you’d had dinners with or photographers friends of V’s. The room was buzzing and you were feeling sick.

     “I need a glass of champagne,” you squeezed his hand.

     “Alright, love. Wait right here, I’ll be back,” he replied before disappearing.

     You had tried to avoid looking at the pictures but you supposed you had no choice now. The memory attached to each photo replayed in your mind while looking at them. That close up of your face. He had pulled the camera up and snapped that picture in the middle of a conversation, “your eyes are sparkling so brightly right now,” he’s said.

     And that angled photograph on you among tall trees looking towards the sky. You’d both been out on a nature hike that day and you stopped to admire the sun shining through the leaves.

     And the black and white portrait of you nude on the bed, body parts peeking out through the silk sheet. You almost choked. That was taken one night after you’d just finished having sex. He’d rolled out of the bed and reached for his camera.

     “V, no…” you had put your hands over your face.

     “Please…you’ve never looked more beautiful. I’d love to capture this for the gallery. The flush of your cheeks and your messy hair framing your face…you look sexy and elegant and confident. Please, would you let me?”

     “Well…alright…but keep the compliments going,” you laughed.

     You had forgotten about that one. Oh god, where was that champagne? Looking around you caught soundbites and snippets of conversation.

     “This really is his best work yet.”

     “What a comeback!”

     “These are really inspiring, I’ve already chosen the one I’d like to purchase.”

     “This whole collection is so beautiful and raw, I’m in love!”

     It was almost too much to take in. People were liking photos of…you? Buying photos of you? It was like being in the twilight zone. How many times had you cried in a dressing room when something didn’t fit right, or looked at yourself in the mirror after a shower with disgust? And now here you were, body on display for the world to see, and they were enamored with you? At some point in your trail of thoughts a smile had spread on your lips. Perhaps you hadn’t given V enough credit…

     “That’s you, correct? You’re the girl in these?” a tall man had taken a spot next to you.

     “Oh…um, yes. I am,” you nodded and blushed.

     “These are excellent. I am particularly interested in this one here,” he gestured to a photo of you smiling with his cocktail, “what modeling agency are you with? I think I have a few opportunities for you. Would you like to go to dinner maybe, talk things over?” he took a confident sip of his drink.

     “Careful, buddy. Don’t steal her away from me now,” V appeared with your champagne glass and handed it to you, chuckling and slipping his free hand around your waist.

     “V! My apologies, I didn’t realize… Well, can’t blame me for trying, right?” he shrugged, “excuse me, then,” he took a few steps and mingled himself into another group.

     “I’m sorry I took so long. Every step I was getting pulled in for a chat”

     “It seems like everyone is raving about your work,” you noted before taking a much needed sip.

     “Yes. But what do you think?” he replied in that serious tone, like he was nervous to even ask.

     “I…I love it. I’m shocked, but I love it.”

     “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that. I know you were hesitant at first. But, I wanted everyone-including you, to see just how beautiful you really are. To see you as I see you. Come on, let’s look at them all together,” he beamed.

     It was a night of praises and cheers. It seemed everyone was pining over the photos and praising your looks. Every group had something wonderful to say. ‘You’re a lucky man, V’ ‘What a beautiful couple you two make’ ‘I’d take her photos, too’ ‘Will you be doing a second collection like this one?’

     As the evening dwindled down you felt like floating. All of your fears and insecurities seemed so small and insignificant now as V held your hand and kissed your forehead in pure joy at the responses you both had received.

     “V, all of the works have sold! I can’t believe it. What a night!,” the woman who ran the gallery was gushing. She might have even been a little buzzed off of champagne in celebration of the success.

     “I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled.

     “But there is a man who wants to talk to you. It’s about that photo, the one you didn’t want sold?”

     “Oh? Alright then, where is he?”

     She led you both to a large man in a thick black coat. He was holding a drink in his gloved hand, his eyes transfixed on that black and white portrait of you on the bed.

     “Ah, the man of the hour!” he shook V’s hand, “now you can explain to me why this lady here says I can’t buy this piece.”

     “I’m glad you like it,” he laughed, “but it’s just as she said. It’s not for sale. I wanted to add it to the gallery, but I’m afraid I can’t part with it.”

     “I’m a determined man, V. I’ve been a fan of your work for a long time now. This photo is emotional and brilliant. This woman looks fierce but elegant. It’s truly captivating. I don’t like to take no for an answer. Now, if it’s a matter of money…”

     V couldn’t help but smile and nod, all three of you were now gazing at the picture.

     “Right you are,” V replied, “but I’m sorry. This one is just for me.”