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caffeinated-mendes · 4 years

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co-stars in crisis - a shawn mendes one-shot

masterlist

previous work

synopsis: (written intentionally in lowercase) you’ve been acting in a top-rated tv show for years, and shawn has been your co-star. as your characters in the show begin to develop feelings for one another, you think that maybe it might not all be an act.

a/n: just a cute little, fluffy one-shot! i’ve remembered that shawn had always wanted to try acting, so i wanted to write him as an actual actor on set! hope you enjoy! comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated :)

word count: 1.8 k

warnings: none

*if you prefer, you can read this on my ao3 instead of here

“hadley, i’ve been in love with you since i saw you in that train station. don’t you dare leave me, and tell me that all of this was for nothing. these years of friendship have become the only constant in my life.” the studio lights and camera panned around shawn, or thomas, as you recited your lines back to him.

being your character, hadley, felt like being in another body. she was a frail little thing, not wanting to be in the spotlight, but inevitably being forced into it by the show’s plotline. her personality had become second nature to you while you filmed the third season of the murder mystery. “i don’t know what to say.”

“tell me you love me,” shawn’s eyes bore willingly into your own, and you felt something stir in your chest as you waited in anticipation. he took your hand, and the cameras zoomed in on you. the warm ambiance of the set made his face glow, and his curls looked like a halo around his head.

you placed your hand on his cheek, another on his chest as you brought him in for the sweet kiss that the viewers had been waiting for the whole show. shawn tasted like icing, and you knew for a fact that he’d eaten another one of the cupcakes in your dressing room before your scene. usually if you kissed people for the screen, it really felt like nothing, but shawn was different. you could feel his pulse as he pulled your body close to his, and the reddening of your cheeks sent a sort of floating feeling to your head. when you let go, you breathed in, “i love you, but i can’t risk you being a victim to the mess i’m in. everything that’s happened: the murders, the plots and schemes-”

“i’m already in it. i chose to be when i realized i loved you. without you, i don’t know who i’d be.” shawn smiled a smile that made your fake glasses fog up as you let a tear fall down your cheek.

you smiled through another tear, “thomas, you’re such a sap.” shawn twined his fingers with yours. “come here,” you moved your hand to the back of his head, running your fingers through his curls as he kissed you again. his rosy lips made the hair on the back of your neck stand on edge, and just as you were about to deepen it, the cameras panned out, and-

“cut! that was great, guys. you’re almost wrapped up for today, so just hang around here for your last scenes,” the director instructed the two of you. you grinned at shawn as you both went off the set and to your chairs, near the exit of the dark studio.

shawn grinned at you as you both took your seats, and your heart still pounded against your chest. you didn’t know what to say, and instead took a long sip from your water bottle, watching your co-stars start filming on the set adjacent to hadley’s bedroom. “you did great,” shawn said, looking at you as you watched the cameras.

you turned to him, “thanks. you do amazing as always, thomas. also, i know you ate the cupcakes in my dressing room.”

shawn snickered, “i guess it wasn’t a great idea to do that before a kissing scene, huh?” this made your cheeks redden, and you laughed nervously, thankful for the darkness around you.

“no, definitely not. i’m gonna go change for my last scene. patty’s waiting for me,” you exited the studio, not looking back at shawn. crossing the street, you moved to another plain, gray building and walked the familiar path down to your dressing room. opening the door, you saw it vacant. patty wouldn’t be in your room for at least another twenty minutes, but you needed to get away from shawn. what was wrong with you? his kiss felt electric, and your body was on overdrive, suddenly aware of every sound and movement around you. and to think, you’d have to be doing this often, now that your characters were together.

you spent the remainder of your time glaring at the frosted and sprinkled pink cupcakes on your vanity until patty walked in, a short and beautiful lady in her fifties. she’d been doing makeup and costumes for years, and even knew you when you were a child actor. her red hair had evidently been in pin curls the night before from the beautiful ringlets adorning her face, and she carried her traveling makeup box, placing it on your vanity and rambling, “it’s been nonstop all day, y/n, and i love it, but sometimes when people don’t stop moving, it gets on my nerves! how am i supposed to make someone’s makeup look good if they constantly turn their head?”

“i don’t know, patty,” you said, somewhat mumbling.

“what’s wrong with you? you look like you’re waiting for those cupcakes to explode.” patty opened her kit to reveal a makeup set, and she began touching up your face, adding some more mascara to your eyelashes.

you sighed, your head ever so still, “hypothetically, if you felt something you hadn’t felt before about someone else, and it made you weirded out, what would you do?” you knew that she would definitely know that it was not a hypothetical question, but she played along.

“well,” she began, moving to the clothes rack, and taking out a blouse, “i would just see what kind of weird feeling i felt around them. if it was bad, then i’d avoid them, if it was good, then i’d stick around them to see what it really was.” she handed you a pair of jeans and the same white blouse she’d pulled out. then, going to the shoe rack next to your vanity, she pulled out rose-pink flats, giving them to you as you took off hadley’s brown-framed glasses.

taking off your shirt, you put the blouse over your head, and changed into the jeans and shoes. “i guess it was a good weird. and i can’t let it affect me too much-” you stopped yourself. patty couldn’t know it was about shawn, your co-star.

“alright, sweetie, i’ve got to go to maddy’s room, see you tomorrow.” patty grabbed her things, and pushed open the door.

“bye, patty.” you sat back down in your chair, looking at yourself in the mirror. putting your glasses back on, you glared down at the pink cupcakes, silently cursing them.

the next day, you shot another scene with shawn. your characters had just discovered who the killer was, and began their process to take him down, which resulted in you having to shower fake blood off yourself. as you stepped out of the bathroom and into your dressing room, you took the towel off your head and wrapped a robe around you.

your vanity had been cleared of the pink cupcakes, and you smiled to yourself, but three knocks on your door snapped you back into reality. “come in,” you said, and shawn stepped into your dressing room, hair wet and in his own clothes.

“hey- oh, sorry, i can come back later-”

“no, it’s okay,” you stood up, and looked at him, feeling awkward. he wore a black hoodie and blue jeans, and his body makeup had been removed, showing his tattoos. “let me just grab my clothes. we can talk through the door.”

shawn laughed as you took your bag and went in the bathroom, smiling as you put on your leggings and t-shirt. “what did you need?”

“uh, nothing, i just wanted to talk.”

you looked at the white door, almost like you could see shawn through it, “oh.”

“oh?”

“nothing, it’s just that it’s nice of you to keep me company.”

“i always hang out with you after we’re done.”

“i know,” you opened the door and saw shawn standing a few feet in front of you, grinning. “what?” he stepped closer to you, and suddenly, you got the good-weird feeling again. a burst of energy coursed through you, and you walked up to him, pulling his chest to yours like you did in your scene yesterday, and brought your lips to his. “i’m sorry, i just had to know-”

shawn cut you off and kissed you again, reaching to put his hand on your cheek, brushing your wet hair aside. “you had to know if when we kissed it felt like something different, right?” shawn let go of you, looking down. his eyes looked hypnotic to you, the brown and amber and green swirling together.

you took his hand, and interlaced your fingers with his, “yes. i shouldn’t have done it-”

the door behind shawn opened with a creak, and the two of you jumped apart, your hands trembling to see that maddy, who played leila, hadley’s best friend, walked in your dressing room. “hey, we gotta go now. staff has to clean the buildings.” her blonde hair was in a bun, and she still wore leila’s blue floral dress.

“alright. thanks maddy.” you replied, and wrung your hands together, side-eyeing shawn, who seemed to be very interested in hadley’s wardrobe.

“yep.” she closed the door, and you heard her heels clack down the hallway.

shawn stepped out from behind the clothing rack and made his way to the door. “i guess i’ll see you tomorrow.” he began to open it, and you could barely get your words out.

“wait-” the door closed, leaving you alone. near your rack, you saw a piece of paper on the ground. you picked it up and it read:

i didn’t want to draw attention. i’ll see you after our first scene.

the next day, you paced in your dressing room, trying to calm your mind. what did shawn mean by the note? as if almost on cue, shawn arrived, and turning so you could see his back, locked the door. “shawn, what are you doing here?” he walked up to you and kissed you with so much intensity that you stumbled into your vanity, hitting your back against the wood.

“i don’t know how we’ll keep this a secret, but i can’t sit and watch you and not be near you.” shawn brought his hands to your face, taking hadley’s glasses off and set them beside you. the feeling of sneaking around excited you, and made you feel like you were breaking the rules. there was nothing against dating your co-stars, but you wanted to be professional.

this wasn’t professional, but you didn’t care.

you rested your forehead against shawn’s, and pulled him in for another kiss. “okay. no one’s gonna find out.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes one-shot #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes acting #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes actor au #co-stars in crisis #caffeinated-mendes

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leswansong · 5 years

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Chapter Eight - Adrinette April - Notes for You

Day 8 - A Favour Only You Can Do

Read it on A03? –> [ Click Here ]

The phone beside her rang, she glared angerly at it, it was 11 o'clock what could be so important to wake her from her peaceful slumber, she groaned throwing a pillow over her head before tossing it off and answering it.

"What?" she murmured frustratedly into the receiver.

"Marinette, I... I need a favour and only you can do it." Adrien's panicked voice echoed back.

"Can- Can it wait?"

"No, I kinda need it now..."

She let out a sigh, "What is it?"

"A shirt, there's a gala on and I can't ask my father he'll get upset that I ripped it, please Marinette, If you help I'll-"

"I'll be over in five, what colour is the shirt?"

"White..."

"Cool, Like I said over in five."

"Wait! stay... stay on the phone., please."

"Adrien?"

"Please..." he begged.

“Fine."

She tossed the blankets aside and made her way down to her little sewing nest below, she made her way over to her recently organised thread box, her travel kit was nestled in one of its many drawers she grabbed it and the two white spindles and tossed them into her purse. The phone switched from her left shoulder to her right as she grabbed hold of her jacket and pulled on a pair of her warmest boots. She headed downstairs, murmuring replies into the receiver, her mother was sitting at the kitchen counter, a small cup of green tea and some pancakes sat in front of her, she smiled at her and silently poured herself a cup of tea in a to-go cup, she gave her mother a peck on the cheek and headed towards the front door, her mother yelled goodbye behind her.

Her feet descending the stairs echoed in the hall until she reached the ground fall, she opened the back door to the bakery and headed inside, her father was at the ovens pulling out a new batch of bread out of the oven.

“Hi Papa, I’m heading out.”

“Take some of the croissants with you!” he called.

She snatched a pack of prepackaged chocolate croissants and headed out the front door towards the large cream walled mansion down the street.

“You grab croissants?”

“Yep, your favourite.”

“Yes,” he hissed back, “Thank-you.”

“No problem.”

“I still have to find a way to repay you.”

“It’s what friends do.” Silence flooded the call, “Adrien?” she asked concerned that her reception had dropped out.

“Sorry, I’m here, call dropped for a second.”

“Thought so. The Gala, what’s it for?”

“The usual, small promotional stuff to get ready for the spring releases, it’s just to please the investors.”

“Right so I have to make the rip in the shirt practically unnoticeable.”

“I Don’t expect a miracle.”

“Yeah but you’re hoping for one.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m almost there.”

“I'm waiting for you to arrive, my love.”

“Hush, you can have the croissants in a minute, you just have to wait,” she bantered back.

“But I love them.”

“I know, that’s why I grabbed them.”

“You tricked me…”

There was no ripped shirt just Adrien standing in a pristine suit.

“Sorry, but I really don’t want to go alone, the gala is really boring without someone to talk to, besides I kinda already asked your mother.”

“You… could have just asked normally.”

“Sorry, Will you still go with me?”

“I would be a shitty person if I said no, I’m guessing there is an outfit stashed in your bathroom because this has been planned for weeks.”

“Yep, I asked Alya for help so judge her, not me.”

She rolled her eyes and closed the bathroom door, pressing her back against it, the light pink spring dress was hanging up on one of the hooks, it was simple but pretty, a silk scarf was with it as well, she quickly changed her clothes and inspected it in the mirror, it was most definitely her style and she was already in love with it. She slowly wrapped the scarf around her neck and exited the bathroom. Adrien handed her a pair of white stiletto’s and she lent against the wall slipping them on.

“Are you sure these are a good idea,” she indicated to the cast on her arm.

“Yep, we all suffer in the name of fashion.”

“That's sadly the truth.”

“Come on,” he held out his left arm for her to take, “Let's go.”

"Adrien? why did you talk me into coming along?” Marinette groaned, bored of the interactions with the older guests.

"Because I'd rather not suffer alone."

"I'm seriously out of my mind bored, at least I have some eye candy," she joked.

Adrien's cheeks grew bright red at her comment, "You- you- you're not allowed to do that."

"What?" she finally realized the shade his cheeks had turned, "Sorry..."

"We should probably dance, my father has given me a list of... obligations that I have to do."

"does he ask you to do that this at every event?"

"yep."

“Than I say you don't have to do it this time."

“Right…”

“Adrien!” A female voice interrupted, Adrien took a step forward.

"Kagami, I didn't know you were coming, you remember Marinette," Marinette felt her arm being tugged forward, she didn't resist and Adrien pulled her towards the short haired girl.

The girl's eyes fell upon her and Marinette suddenly felt out of place, “I remember, my first one on one competition with you, she saw the final hit, It’s nice to see you again.”

Marinette shook the girls awaiting hand, “It’s good to see you again too.”

“So Adrien dragged you along to this dreary party,”

“Yes, He needed a… favour done and this was my repayment.”

“isn’t that cute, could I borrow Adrien for a minute.”

Marinette nodded her head and Kagami took Adrien’s hand pulling him behind her towards an unknown destination. She watched his blond hair disappeared from view, she glanced around the small open garden, she took a sip of her lemonade before putting the half drunk cup down and headed further into the garden to find something to keep her from dying of boredom. The garden was bare of any plant life, full of green and more green but her Kwami seemed to enjoy the fresh air.

She happily strolled around the garden as Tikki describe what each plant was and exactly how the flowers would look if it was in bloom, she reached into her purse and started to sketch a floral summer dress, she was lost in a world of pink, purple, blue and red scented flowers that Tikki was describing to her. She found a large oak tree that had some shade from the mid-afternoon sun she sat down on the green grass and continued to sketch as Tikki floated beside her, she quickly lost track of time.

“Marinette?”

“Hey Adrien,” she replied in a casual tone, still sketching her now 5 design for the day.

“What are you doing?”

“Designing, I had nothing else to do after you and Kagami left.”

“I tried looking for you…”

“Oh… Sorry, I kinda get lost while designing.”

“I’ve noticed,” he sat down next to her glancing over her shoulder to see her sketch, “What’s the inspiration for that piece?”

“The Garden… If it was spring.”

“Cool, I would like to stay but it's four o’clock.”

“What? It’s only just-“ her phone screen confirmed what he had just said, “Wow…”

“Yep… Come on Mari, I’d hate to ruin your flow but I’m afraid I promised your parents to get you home before the bakery closes.” He stood up and held his hand out for her to take, she accepted it and he slowly helped her to her feet.

<—Previous Drabble Master List Next—>

#Adrinette April #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Miraculous #Notes for You #SwanSongWrites #I keep drabbling on

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bitty-smol · 6 years

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so like, i’m all for well-dressed kent parson au’s, but what about fashion disaster kent?

like he has a really good reputation when it comes to events and red carpet shit

his suit game is strong, but of course it is. he has a stylist for this kind of stuff

but away from the cameras?

THIS BOY IS A WRECK!!

Carly Rae Jepsen tour shirt? Floral shorts?? Birkenstocks???

not horrible separately, but when he wears them together it’s just,, it’s a lot happening

he wears this one shirt with a photoshopped kit purrson wearing a crown that says, “i’ll have to ask my cat first”

he says he only wears it because a fan gave it to him

he actually bought it special order from etsy

not to mention the fact that he has an absurd amount of graphic tees and not even the cute “hipstery” ones that everyone is wearing (like the nasa ones... you know which ones i’m talking about)

oh no!! he wears ones that he bought in like 2009. peak “RANDOM LOLZ RAWR XD” time.

He has one (being the math nerd he is) that reads, “come to the math side. we have pi”

another reads, “i’m cooler on the internet”

and of course he has one that says, “there’s a ninja on this shirt, you just can’t find him”

the aces have tried to help him, they really have

swoops has gone through his closet multiple times and thrown things out, but things just keep magically reappearing??

“kent didn’t i throw that lime green and brown windbreaker away last month?” “hmmm, did you? i don’t remember.”

“kent why do you still have those purple striped shorts?” “i have no clue what you’re talking about”

eventually people start digging up pictures of him from when he was in the Q and he actually dressed normal??

like he wore a lot of tight t-shirts and flannels and button downs along with nice jeans??

eventually he goes onto a talk show (idfk the view or something??) and they ask him why he has an,, interesting style to say the least and why it has changed so much since he had first started

he answers that he, “had a lot to prove back then and i couldn’t risk standing out for any wrong reasons. now that i’m an established player with a obvious future, i figure one thing i can give myself is the ability to dress however i want. it’s a small victory, but maybe one day soon i’ll be able to be my 100% honest self with my fans. i look forward to that day, but until then i hope you guys enjoy my pun shirts.”

#wow this started of as an offhanded thought #it wasn't supposed to be this long #oh well #i love my son #parse #KENT PARSON #omgcp #omgcheckplease #my post #mine #omgqueueplease!#omgcheckplease!

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smsvisao · 4 years

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Bartholomew Court

Bartholomew Court was an apartment complex situated northbound on Rt.3 in Fredericksburg. The Court, as it was called by locals, mostly housed young adults on hourly wages and the elderly. Apartment 402 housed a drug dealer and a sex worker but just barely.

Daniel, the sex worker, was responsible for half of the living costs shared between he and Youssef, the drug dealer. The agreement was that neither of them cared how they made their money as long as they had it when it was due. The reality was that they depended on each other to generate enough revenue to sustain both of their lives because sex and drugs were a married couple. It often led to the pair arguing like a married couple but that's beside the point.

Youssef slid the black curtains dividing the rest of their studio apartment from their bed space. Or in other terms, dividing the two workspaces. "George will be here in twenty minutes to pick up his order."

Daniel was busy and counted thirteen condoms that he had available to use before he'd need more. He kept them in the top of a bedside drawer along with everything else he needed to perform - three bottles of lube, a first aid kit, and incensed oil to refill the diffuser with. For the more interesting clients, he kept a box of toys and the necessary cleaning materials in the bottom.

George. George... nope. Didn't ring a bell. He remembered most of his clients and most of Youssef's - it was easy because half of them overlapped but he'd never had a George.

Done with inventory, he pushed the drawer shut. "George who?"

Youssef pulled back the curtain just enough to stick his head through. His eyes darted around the space, probably making sure it was ready to go in case "George" wanted other services. Well it was as good as it was gonna get. The room was clean and Daniel had already bathed this morning. Half the time he didn't bother with clothes around the apartment but at least wore pants when one of Youssef's clients were stopping by.

"He's a new-new."

"New-new?" The new-news were risky. They were either clients who had never had a trip or were clients who had no known link to their services. For that reason, they met new-new customers in front of the nail salon across the street. "Thought we weren't doing those."

"He's got a big order."

"Ok but its not like we got a big supply. So again, why'd you agree to sell to him?"

Youssef crouched to the floor in front of him, folding his arms across Daniel's knees. "Hey." A depraved smile crept across his face. "Do you remember what it was like at Sovereign Hope? When you came back past curfew and got locked out?"

He was nineteen and had just been dropped back off at the shelter after meeting with his first client - the Director's husband. The Director's husband hadn't allowed him to shower and the rain that poured only made certain things worse. Everything hurt but the Director's husband was a smart man so there weren't any bruises to show for it. When the night staff finally opened the door, he was berated and then interrogated about where he'd gone and why he came back so late. They wanted to search him to make sure he hadn't brought back any weapons or drugs and normally that was fine except he was done with being probed and prodded like an animal. Refusing got him a door slammed to the face. If he couldn't follow the rules he didn't get to stay.

It was Youssef that snuck him in through a back window and begged the staff to give him a second chance. Youssef was a lot nicer back then.

A hand gloved tight in black latex gave two quick cold pats to his cheek. "Why don't you go make sure your ass is clean or something and leave the rest to me?"

"Will do," He threw his asshole of a roommate a swift punch to the gut. Youssef stumbled backwards and laughed it off.

The time that had passed since then hadn't been kind to either of them. He liked to think there were some parts of himself that he'd managed to hold onto. Youssef was different. He let himself go after he found drugs and now, he was a completely different person.

Outside, there was nowhere to go that wouldn't cost money. So, he often passed time at the main entrance of their unit watching people go in and out. Half of them didn't even live there. At some point there was probably a working code system but now it was just an unlocked door with a broken and outdated keypad next to it.

With eyes squinting at the sun, he figured there must have been a pretty sweet payoff from this George guy if Youssef was bending his own rule. It didn't make sense though. He didn't know the exact quantity, but he knew that there had been plenty of times that Youssef just didn't have the supply and Daniel had to take more clients to bring in enough money to cover rent. That was the scenario at least two times out of every month.

Another ten minutes passed before a blue sedan pulled off from the main road and slowed to a stop in front of the entrance. The man who got out of the car in gym shorts and a baseball cap was someone he'd recognize anywhere.

Not George but Jorge. One of his own clients, his favorite one. He liked Jorge because he was low-maintenance and clean. Usually he only asked for hand jobs and there was only one time that he asked for penetration. Youssef had been out on a pick-up. It was late, around 11 p.m. He never looked forward to clients but after so many sessions of only touching he'd always wondered what it would feel like to be held by the man.

When it finally happened, it was underwhelming and average, but he liked the way Jorge offered to take out the trash for him on his way out. The trash was full that night. Youssef had been gone for two days and he hadn't taken it out before he left. At the time, Daniel thought it was weird that Jorge offered but later it made sense, Jorge was always ... nice. But when he walked up the steps of the entrance in basketball shorts and a sweat stained t-shirt, the look on his face wasn't nice.

"Bad day?" Daniel asked thinking Jorge just hadn't noticed it was him hanging out at the entrance. Their eyes met and Daniel saw a flicker of interest.

"Somewhat. Hey listen, are you free now?"

"I can be. Why?"

"I just placed an order at Mr. Chun's but I won't have time to grab it now that I'm here. Think you can pick it up for me? I'll throw in some extra cash."

Mr. Chun's was the shabby restaurant in the plaza behind the complex but damn was the food good.

"Why not. What am I looking for?"

"A large sweet and sour shrimp platter with fried rice."

"Didn't I recommend that to you last time we met?"

"Oh, was that you?" Jorge looked over his shoulder and then handed him a thin wad of rolled up cash. "Thanks Daniel."

He stuffed the cash into his pocket. Sweet and sour shrimp sounded good right about now.

The door to Mr. Chun's had their menu typed on paper posted on the back of the glass from the inside so that people could see it but not touch it from the outside. A little chime went off when he stepped inside. An older woman in a red apron looked up from whatever she was writing.

"Hello, ah!" She gasped and she pointed at his bare torso. Daniel laughed. "It's too hot for a shirt out there. Go step outside, you'll take yours off too." He teased.

"Oh boy, it must be. Yesterday was in the nineties. Are you ordering now?"

"Picking up. It was a large sweet and sour shrimp for Jorge."

"Okay, this is for you." With a kind smile she handed him a folded piece of paper where she had covered the page in a floral pattern with the green of her pen.

"Wow. Thanks. You did this?"

"Yes, but turn it over, that part is for you. I made it better with my talent. Now not only can you taste our talent you can see it also."

The handwriting was small, and everything was underlined.

I know it's your favorite, enjoy it and keep the extra cash. Don't come back to your apartment. Go to this address asap and ask for Eva. 2583 Rowing St. You'll be taken care of.

"When did he give you this? What did he say?" Daniel asked in a rush.

"He said nothing, except to give it to you. Here." She handed him a plastic bag filled with two takeout boxes, condiments and chopsticks. There was also a ginger ale.

"Thanks."

She wished him a good day but when he began to make his way back to the apartment against the direction of the note he realized the day was anything but good. From the plaza parking lot he could see two cop cars parked to the side of their unit at Bartholomew Court. Not a big deal. The cops hung around sometimes and he'd had run ins with them before but nothing too serious. Youssef on the other hand…

Just as the concern crossed his mind, he saw his roommate being escorted down the steps, flanked by two officers and one in the back. They hadn't sounded the sirens when they pulled up or he would've heard it from Mr. Chun's.

"Dammit, Youssef." Jorge was a leak.

Even so, doing exactly what the note said was a no-brainer. He didn't know what Jorge was tied up in, but he understood that the man was looking out for him.

It made sense to hang back near Mr. Chun's rather than getting any closer to the unit until things cooled down. He pulled up the address Jorge left him on his phone and saw that it wasn't nearby. It was in Alexandria and that was an hour and some change away. He'd have to take a taxi. Crazy how he could spend most of his adult life with a man who helped him stay alive and then eat Chinese food and watch from the sidewalk as he got pushed into a cop car and taken away.

When his taxi arrived, he settled in and gave the address fine enough but couldn't keep his foot from tapping the whole ride north. Maybe it was survivor's guilt. It hurt to be callous, to move on without a second thought about someone he spent a good portion of his life with. Youssef was half responsible for making sure he didn't starve to death.

But what could he have done? Fight Jorge off? Run up to Youssef as he was being drug down the steps of the complex and wrestle him out of police custody? Then they'd both be in handcuffs. Jorge had sent him off and spared his life. Someone, even when Youssef wasn't, was looking out for him. He owed Youssef a lot but decided he owed Jorge more.

The taxi settled at the first red light since getting off I-95. The driver looked back to check on him. "You ever been up here before?"

"Don't think so. If I have, I don't remember."

"It's different from the south. More brown people like yourself. You don't need a car for much up here, but you will need a shirt."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. He hadn't considered himself brown. Youssef was brown. He was…damn, now he didn't know what he was. What a perfect time to have an identity crisis. He thought he was white like everyone else in Fredericksburg. Since when did people start using brown the way they used white and black? What did brown even mean? Compared to the driver's skin that looked like pizza dough, he guessed his skin was more like the color of the fried rice he'd eaten earlier. If that was brown, then so be it.

"Gotcha. What's up here? Trains? Busses?"

"Both. You got the Metro, and you got the county public transit systems. Matter-a-fact… The driver took his eyes off the road to rustle in his glove compartment. "It's not a shirt, and it might be a bit outdated but hopefully not by much."

Daniel took the pamphlets from the driver and unfolded it. "This a map?" He saw red lines, blue lines, green lines, and black targets.

"To the metro. You can pretty much get around the DMV with that."

"DC, Maryland, and Virginia?"

The driver chuckled. "You're fitting in already."

"Thanks for this."

"No problem. I got tons of them."

The rest of the ride was silent except for a few expletives let out by the driver when he was cut off in traffic. The roads got smaller and smaller until the taxi slowed to a stop outside of a row of brick buildings stuck together.

"You said 2583 Rowing St., right? Well this is it. You take care now and good luck."

He paid the driver with probably more cash than what was necessary and then cut into the flow of pedestrians to walk up the narrow stairs of 2583. The building had no sign, no business hours and the windows were tinted.

Wary of being caught without a shirt up here where everything was … new and expensive looking, he was quick to enter the building.

The door ushered him to a cluttered desk that took up most of the space in the room. There was a staircase further back but no way in hell was he taking it without knowing what this place was. At least there was AC.

A woman in grey slacks and a black polo descended the stairs, faltering on the last step when she saw him. She was a tiny thing with a stony demeanor. She probably shed her skin in the winter.

"You must be Daniel." She leaned over the desk to extend a hand. It was cold to the touch and he felt callouses. "I'm Eva. Jorge will be glad to hear that you've made it safely." He'd never met a woman with a dryer voice. Clearly, she'd seen some shit. She sounded like a cop, just in plainclothes.

"Never thought I'd end up here when I woke up this morning." Normally people smiled when they shook but he had nothing to smile about and he guessed she didn't either.

"No one ever does."

"What is this place, by the way?"

She rustled through the papers that were strewn across the desk until she found an empty manila folder. "I know this place is new to you, you coming from Fredericksburg and all but it's a nice place." She scribbled something on top of the folder in pen. "A safe place."

A safe place. He'd heard that before and the tone of her voice was far from convincing.

"Follow me upstairs. There's a place for you to sit and I can explain what Jorge's note was all about - as I'm sure you're wondering."

"Why not?" It was either follow the woman upstairs or wander aimlessly on the streets in the heat and without a shirt. It wasn't until she motioned for him to sit down in front of yet another desk that he realized she hadn't answered his first question. These rooms were just barren, just desks and unorganized paperwork. Was there even anyone else in this building?

She moved a stack of papers towards her side of the desk. "I'll be doing most of the talking and then we can go over any questions you may have after."

Daniel snorted at that. He'd ask the questions when he wanted to. It was his life that was suddenly up in the air. Not hers. "Jorge. Is he a cop?"

"I guess I did say I would tell you." She huffed. She leaned back in the office chair, then continued "No. Jorge isn't a cop, or any other type of law enforcement." Her mouth parted to start on another sentence. Probably trying to change the subject but he wasn't going to let her.

"Then what is he?" Youssef was probably in some cell by now and Jorge had something to do with it. Eva's eyes flickered toward his bare chest with displeasure.

"A private investigator working for our group. He was hired by one of your relatives - your brother, to be exact."

"Don't have one. What's the real story?"

"You do have one." She clipped.

"A man is walking around claiming to be my brother, hired a private investigator to find me, and for what? What does he want from me? This stalker."

Eva sighed. "You're his only sibling."

Was that supposed to make things make sense? Say for the sake of things this was true and he did have a brother. How was it that his brother had enough money to hire a private investigator while he shook his ass on men's dicks to pay rent? How was that fair? If it were true that he had a brother, the gods had a gross sense of humor.

"Only sibling, right. You can tell my "brother" to stay the hell away from me."

"Tell him yourself. Though, as I know him personally," She slid a business card his way. "I don't see that ending well for you."

All black card-stock. In the background was the design of a tree in a shade of gray that was just a bit lighter than the black. Folk Investigation Group was etched in a glimmering white font. He flipped it over and saw a number. Under the number was the name.

Damon Figueira, Lead Investigative Analyst. If this was the name of some long-lost brother, it may have well as been the name of a stranger because it meant nothing to him.

"Why didn't he meet me himself and lie to my face? Why have you do it for him?"

"Damon's work has taken him out of state today and the resident social worker is out of the office for the week. That means you're stuck with me, the resident attorney."

"An attorney, huh." Daniel looked at the spread of documents across the desk.

"That makes sense."

Eva opened a drawer and pulled out a few papers. She stuffed them into the manila folder. "I'm about done with doing the grunt work for his little family project." She grumbled as she stood. "Here's more of what you need to know for now." She dropped the folder so that it landed in front of him with a smack. "Get the rest from Damon and maybe a shirt while you're at it. This is Alexandria, not the suburban boonies of Fredericksburg."

She shut the door behind her, and he heard the wooden blinds that dressed the small window in the door clatter against the pane.

But he couldn't take his eyes off what she'd written earlier on the folder in black ink and big letters.

Daniel Wood-Figueira.

0 notes

trbl-will-find-me · 7 years

Text

Every Exit, An Entrance (22/?)

There are two (and only two) possibilities: either she led XCOM to victory and they are now engaged in a clean up operation of alien forces, or XCOM was overrun, clearing the way for an alien-controlled puppet government to seize control of the planet.

She’d really like to figure out which it is, but asking hardly seems the prudent option.

New Year’s is quiet. They watch old Twilight Zone episodes on her laptop and pop a bottle of sparkling cider when the clock reads 00:00:01 1 1 2016. It is not grand, and it is not fancy, but as her lips meet his, Elizabeth Regan is happy.

“Any resolutions?” He asks.

She tips her head against his shoulder. “Hmm, all the usual ones seem sort of blasé now. Who gives a shit if my paperwork’s late? Aliens invaded the Earth. We fought them off. We won. I’d like to say it’s to develop a more regular sleep schedule again, but somehow, that seems about as likely as learning to understand football. I know,” she says, after a moment. “How about finding bigger sleeping arrangements? That sounds good.

“You’re saying you don’t think two adults are mean to fit on the same twin XL mattress? I’m shocked.”

“Much as I loved undergrad, I could do without reliving that particular aspect.”

She feels his chuckle deep in his chest. “Don’t know why.”

She shrugs. “I’m just funny like that. Traveling spoiled me.”

“Lizzie, I hate to break it to you, but the bunk’s a lot bigger than an airplane seat.”

She laughs. “That’s not what I meant! We stayed in some fairly nice places. They had real beds. Beds big enough to share.”

“We only tested that, what? Two? Three times?”

“Three,” she says, wiggling closer. “The spiders. Zurich. Berlin.”

“Ahh, the spiders.” He kisses the top of her head. “How could I forget?”

“How could you forget? I woke you up at two in the morning.”

“You woke me up in your bathrobe.”

She laughs. “I thought it would be quick! I didn’t think you’d be offended. I still had underwear on!”

“I would go with distracted over offended.”

She presses a kiss to his jaw. “Sorry.”

“It was nothing compared to the villa. You know, the one with the pool?”

“I’m not sorry about that.”

“Tease.”

“I was hot! It wasn’t air conditioned!”

“You were in a bra and panties. They were floral.”

“You do remember!”

“I don’t think I could forget if I tried. Not that I’d want to,” he adds.

“Would it really have been better if I’d been in a bathing suit?”

“You were standing there in your underwear. It wasn’t a far jump to other places you could be standing in your underwear.“

“But is it really worse than a bikini?”

“You own a bikini?”

“God, no.”

“Exactly.”

“You were so surprised that they matched. I don’t know what you were expecting, but it apparently wasn’t that.”

“I was so surprised you were standing there in them.”

“I was wearing a silk blouse and a linen skirt. I couldn’t jump in a pool in those. The dry cleaning bill would have been even worse than it already was for that trip. Though,” she says, trailing off. “If you’re really so baffled by the sight of matching lingerie, maybe I should just keep the uniform on after all.”

He sets the laptop aside and catches her in a kiss, pinning her to the bed.

“I think I’ll adapt.”

–

She lingers the in the archway, watching Central help Sally fit her armor. He steps back to look at the girl, then brushes a stray bit of hair behind her ear. He reaches into a pocket and presses something into her hand, but whatever he says is too quiet to carry. She slips it around her neck and under her shirt, then throws her arms around Central’s neck. The gesture seems less foreign to him, and he pulls her in closer for a moment before releasing her.

Sometime later, the whole of Menace One Five stands assembled in the armory, split into fireteams: Sally and Kelly on one, with Zaytsev and Wallace on the other.

“For better or worse,” she begins. “This isn’t a standard op. You’ll be escorting two hostile parties to a rendezvous point that you’ll receive once you’re on the ground. Kelly, Royston: you’ll be with the Reaper. Wallace, Zaytsev: you’ll escort the Skirmisher.“

“We’re operating in the dark, people. We know little to nothing about conditions on the ground, or what you’ll be facing. Both the Skirmishers and the Reapers have agreed to a ceasefire for the duration, but I don’t know to what extent either side intends to honor those terms.”

She draws in a deep breath, and her demeanor softens. “My point is: be careful. We could be facing anything out there, and the nature of negotiations is volatile. Stay alert, watch each other’s backs, and don’t take any risks you don’t have to. If this goes well, we stand to gain two very powerful allies. Good luck, team. You’re on the clock.”

Menace salutes her and piles onto the Skyranger, stowing their gear for transport. She heads back towards the bridge as the craft rises towards the open air. Central gives them the go for takeoff, and they are on their way.

Forty five minutes til drop and she stands on the balcony overlooking the ship’s heart, a bottle of water in her hand. Central is next to her, hands braced on the railing.

“Sal looked like her mom, all kitted out like that,” she offers. “It’s gonna be like having a ghost on the field.”

He nods. “Steph would kill me if she knew.”

“Didn’t want Sally following her into the family business?”

“Think she knew that was inevitable. Just wanted to put it off for as long as she could. I promised her eighteen.”

“But?”

“But Volk must’ve had a reason for asking. If he really thinks a friendly face might help defuse some tension…” He shrugs. “She’s a good shot. She’s got good instincts on the field. She ever gets a better hold on that Gift, and she’s gonna be something else. Besides,” he shakes his head. “I know her. She would’ve found a way to go no matter what I said. Least this way, I get to feel like I gave her my blessing, instead of having her sneakin’ around behind my back.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?” She asks, softly.

“Little bit of both.”

“It’s just one op.”

“And then another, and another. She’s an XCOM operative now. Not much I can do about it.”

“You said it yourself: was probably inevitable.”

His shoulders droop. “Regan, I never should have been a parent. Half the time, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, and the other half, I knew it was the wrong thing. But I tried to keep her safe. I didn’t always succeed, but I tried. Now, there’s not a hell of a lot I can do, but watch and hope. Just hits harder than I thought it would.“

–

What surprises her most is the normalcy. For all his concerns in the wake of Berlin, there is no discernible change in their professional relationship. Everything flows as it should. If the men suspect anything, they do not show it — a near guarantee that all appears as it was.

It occurs to her that it is because they have been together, in some way or another, for a long time already; always in one another’s orbit, always able to parse the other’s meaning with a minimum of explanation. It is what makes them such a good team, what has always made them such an effective team.

She could laugh.

Or kiss him, but she’ll have to wait til later for a shot at that.

“Commander,” her comm sounds. “When you have a moment, please stop by the labs.”

“Of course, Doctor. I’m on my way.” She catches Central’s eye across the room. “You’re in charge. I’ll be with Vahlen in the labs if anything comes up.”

“Understood.”

She breezes through the empty Common Room on her way and stops to pause a moment, trying to envision the space decorated for a wedding. She believes in Molchetti and Hershel, no doubt, but she still can’t wrap her head around it. Still, Steph had seemed grateful they’d taken such an interest in it; she and Edouard still seemed to have their hands full managing their families.

She realizes she will not have to wonder for much longer: the twentieth is rapidly approaching.

Vahlen pulls her into the labs’ small conference room almost immediately upon her arrival. Shen sits in the dim light, apparently waiting.

“Should I call Central?” She asks, suddenly wary.

“No. Someone needs to monitor the energy spikes,” the Chief Engineer says, shifting uncomfortably.

“What’s going on, you two?”

“In the wake of the energy spike in the base,” Vahlen begins. “We noticed a change in the blood samples we had previously tested. The nanomachines, which we had previously observed in a dormant state, activated.”

“And?”

Vahlen reaches into her coat pocket and hands her a vial of dark green liquid. “This was our sample with the highest concentration. While it still carries some DNA markers, it has been mutated beyond a state one could reasonably call human.”

“This was blood? Human blood?”

“Indeed.”

She passes the sample back to the scientist. “Goddamnit.”

“While correlation is by no means causation,” Shen offers. “I am reasonably confident that the Fog Pods serve as a kind of control mechanism for these nanomachines. The energy spikes we have previously observed must be instructions to remain dormant. The spike from within the base was likely an activation. If it was able to take out our monitoring tech, such a pulse would like be catastrophic to civilian communication devices.”

Her mouth runs dry. “So, it’s a time bomb. What do you suggest?”

Shen and Vahlen lock gazes for a moment. “A dual pronged approach,” Vahlen says. “My team will work to understand the machines’ effect on human physiology.”

“And mine will work to disable the Pods.”

The Commander nods. “Do what you can to start investigating countermeasures for those already … infected.” She rubs at her temples. “Brief Central, then get to work. Let’s not cause a panic, but we’re working against a clock we can’t track.”

She rises from the table. “Anything else?”

The question is met with shaking heads.

“Good. Dismissed.”

–

She does not think she is hallucinating, but she does not entirely believe what she sees is real, either.

Zombie movies were always something of a joke among her cohort. How could anyone be so bad at responding to a biothreat to let it escalate the way it always seemed to? What idiot allowed that to happen?

ADVENT, apparently.

The hoard, things that might have once been called human but might now only be called humanoid at her most charitable, advances down the alley, blocking Dragunova, Kelly, and Sally’s only exit path.

There is seemingly no end to their numbers, a whole city mutated beyond recognition. With each wave they shoot down, more appear. It feels like a video game with an unmerciful AI; she tries not to focus on the comparison. Her sense of reality is impaired as it is. There’s no reason to exacerbate the problem.

She tries to focus on the positives. Contact with the Reapers went well. Dragunova seems comfortable operating in the ruins. She’s a strong third member of the fireteam and already seems to have a decent rapport with Sally, who in turn, works in uncanny synchronicity with Kelly. For his part, Central has barely touched his flask, a fact she notes with no small amount of surprise.

The creatures continue their approach, unphased by the gunshots thinning their numbers.

“Out!” Kelly calls.

“I’m spent,” Dragunova echoes.

“I got this,” Sally chirps, scrambling on top of an automobile carcass, and onto a nearby fire escape.

“Sally, what are you —“

“Trust me, Commander.”

Gunshots ring out, and the Lost begin to fall in quick succession. Kelly and Dragunova reload and make quick work of the remainder.

She does not believe in ghosts — not really, at least. They are things of myth ad fairy tale, scary stories used to coerce little children in from the dark. The dead are the dead. Their memories roam the halls, yes, but the cause remains the grief of the living.

She believes in an afterlife, though. For her own sake, she has to. She has to believe that there is a chance, however small, that the lost are not gone forever, that reunions are not a pitiful dream.

She believes that, wherever Stephanie Royston is, she would be proud of her daughter.

Central’s grip on the railing is tight, but when she looks, there’s pride in his eyes. “That’s my girl.”

#xcom #fic #every exit an entrance #commander/central

9 notes · View notes

gatheringmoss · 5 years

Text

calm sunday morning, answering this list of questions 🌿🌱

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora?

i don’t use any of these but I think Spotify might be useful

is your room messy or clean?

somewhere in between messy and clean

what color are your eyes?

blue

do you like your name? why?

i don’t like it so much because it’s also a name for men and because i just don’t like the sound of it so much. i prefer being called Sas than Sasja though.

what is your relationship status?

single

describe your personality in 3 words or less

shy, spontaneous, awkward

what color hair do you have?

naturally red

what kind of car do you drive? color?

i don’t drive by myself yet but my teachers car is white

where do you shop?

anywhere but mostly c&a. and i like thriftshops but the local ones don’t sell nice clothes

how would you describe your style?

vintage/floral

favorite social media account

my @Schilderachtigs instagram for sure, my personal instagram is really not interesting nor is my tumblr page

what size bed do you have?

1 person bed

any siblings?

yes, 4.

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why?

probably in the united states, in france, scotland or israel... can’t really pick between these all.

favorite snapchat filter?

the flower crown

favorite makeup brand(s)

i don’t use makeup

how many times a week do you shower?

7 times a week

favorite tv show?

catfish and first dates

shoe size?

39 european size

how tall are you?

about 1 meter 72. (in between 5”6 and 5”7) i think i’ll become the shortest of my siblings because they’re all growing so much!

sandals or sneakers?

it depends... but i think sneakers for now

favorite music album?

“bye, sad girl” and “how can it be”

do you go to the gym?

describe your dream date

probably a picnic although eating food on a first date will be very uncomfortable. so maybe just a picnic without any food by a river or in a lovely field?

what color socks are you wearing?

dark navy

how many pillows do you sleep with?

one, but sometimes i steal my sisters pillow and that’ll make it two

how many friends do you have?

real life and online friends included? i think about 15 maybe.. some are closer to me than others.

whats the worst thing you have ever done?

turn myself away from God and His commandments

whats your favorite candle scent?

vanilla

favorite actor?

kit harington/heath ledger/johnny depp

favorite actress?

cate blanchett/winona ryder/melissa gilbert

who is your celebrity crush?

i’m too old for having one hihi. but i liked Kit Harington in pompeii

favorite movie?

Edward Scissorhands

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book?

i used to read a lot when i was little and started reading again. i don’t have one favorite book. but i like thrillers and drama.

money or brains?

brains, not in the form of knowledge but in wisdom.

do you have a nickname? what is it?

Sas / Bub

how many times have you been to the hospital?

only once

do you take any medications daily?

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc)

my face gets really dry in winter time

what is your biggest fear?

walking away from God / being a bad person

how many kids do you want?

it will depend on my situation but maybe 2-4. maybe more, or less. my opinion about this has changed a lot through the years.

whats your go to hair style?

it used to be a top knot but since my hair is short now it’s just my curly pixie

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc)

small family house

who is your role model?

Jesus

what was the last compliment you received?

“your new haircut looks nice on you”

what was the last text you sent?

“volgend jaar dan maar!”

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real?

i always knew he wasnt real

what is your dream car?

i don’t have a dream car

opinion on smoking?

it smells bad, makes my head hurt, is bad for your lungs, causes cancer. so it’s better to just not smoke.

do you go to college?

what is your dream job?

being a wedding photographer

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs?

the suburbs

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels?

do you have freckles?

yes, a lot in summer and a few in winter

do you smile for pictures?

yes

how many pictures do you have on your phone?

61 pictures

do you still watch cartoons?

no I don’t

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds?

i don’t eat meat

what are your hobbies?

photography, writing, reading, crocheting, listening music, playing tin whistle (haven’t done that for too long)

can you draw?

only in a non-realistic way

do you play an instrument?

yes

what was the last concert you saw?

Hillsong young and free in Germany

tea or coffee?

tea

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

dunkin donuts

do you want to get married?

yes

what is your crush’s first and last initial?

i don’t have a crush at the moment, i haven’t liked someone for over six months already. but the initials of the last person i liked are Y.B.

are you going to change your last name when you get married?

of course!

what color looks best on you?

forest green

do you miss anyone right now?

not really

do you sleep with your door open or closed?

it depends, but most of the time it’s closed

do you believe in ghosts?

yes

last person you called

my sister

favorite ice cream flavor?

hazelnut

what shirt are you wearing?

an oversized grey running t-shirt

what is your phone background?

a picture of a mountain

are you outgoing or shy?

shy

do you like it when people play with your hair?

yes as long as they don’t mess it up

do you like your neighbors?

no. absolutely not.

have you ever been high?

no!! i don’t do drugs

have you ever been drunk?

no.... i don’t drink either

last thing you ate?

a croissant

favorite lyrics right now

“You died so that I could have life”

day or night?

day

dark, milk, or white chocolate?

white because it’s caffeine free

favorite month?

may i think

what is your zodiac sign

leo

who was the last person you cried in front of?

my family

this was actually fun to do, 🙂 i might be doing a similar list sometime again 🌿🌱

#questions

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savetopnow · 6 years

Text

2018-04-05 11 HOME now

HOME

Amber Interior Design

Just the AFTER // Client Black Houses are the Best Houses

SHOPPE 2.0 // Exterior Paint

It’s Me… on the Chris Loves Julia Podcast!!

+ WHITE PAINT DIGEST 2018 +

:: CLIENT WELCOME TO LA WE HOPE YOU STAY ::

Apt. 34

Announcing the One Room Challenge!

The April Edit

Crazy Sexy Cool Kitchen Design

Recipe: Healthy Mushroom Spinach Egg Skillet

A Dozen Easter Table Inspirations

Coco Kelly

Tools of the Trade :: Styling with Glass Beads

House Tour :: A Light & Airy Renovation in Amagansett

Meet the New Seattle Design Center!

Floral Tutorial :: How to Arrange Spring Florals Like a Dutch Painting

Easter Tabletop Inspiration :: Going Dutch

Coco Lapine Design

Beige in our living room

Light flooded home in grey

Cozy home with a blue kitchen

Happy Easter !

Majestic living room

Design Sponge

Life Lessons from Trading Spaces: The New Season Begins!

A Philadelphia Home that Boasts a Potpourri of Architectural Styles

Q&A: Interior Design in Iran — Peeking Behind Closed Curtains with Lena Späth

In North Carolina, a Family Sets the Stage for Memory-Making

Inclusive Stock Photography + Best of the Web

Emily Henderson

The Living Room Rules You Should Know

Power Couples: Sofas & Accent Chairs + a few rules

Who is the real client of the mountain house…

A Traditional Eclectic Bedroom + Our Tips For Shopping eBay

How To Dress Awkward Windows + Where To Shop For Readymade Options

EyeSwoon

Dreaming of Provence with Le Creuset

The Forgotten Lamb Chops with Mint Salsa

Elle Magazine: September Issue

Vogue: Cook Beautiful Townhouse Dinner

Cherry Bombe: Issue Nº 10

Lark and Linen

West Coast Style

A Little Help Getting Your Tech Ready For Spring

Strawberry Chamomile Crepe Cake

Things I’ve Bought and Loved Lately

A Stunning Hamptons Home Tour

Miss Moss

Aiste Stancikaite

Goodies No. 31

Gala & Dalí

Hand Embroidered shirts by Kilometre Paris

Levi Mandel

My Domaine

The Story of Nate Berkus and Jeremiah Brent's Baby's Name Will Move You to Tears

Meghan Markle Has an "Unofficial Wedding Planner"—Here's What We Know

This Le Creuset Rival Is Almost Identical—and Costs So Much Less

Heidi Klum Just Bought a Huge Artist's Studio in SoHo—Look Inside

In Tech, Men Are Offered Higher Salaries Than Women 63% of the Time

Reddit Interior Design

Repaint

I'm moving into an apartment with this kind of gross blue carpet in the living room and bedroom. I'm renting so I can't really get rid of it. Any ideas to cover it up, or make it work somehow? Thank you!!

Feedback on my new apartment? Cute doggos await you!

Help wanted: revise this dresser

Cannot currently afford new furniture but would really like a reshuffle. Any suggestions?

Savvy Home

This One Small Change Transformed my Morning Routine

Inside My First (280 Sq. Ft.) New York Apartment

Gab Loves: Black and White

The Weekender: Back at it Again

Gab Loves: Spring Greens

Wit + Delight

On Motherhood: Chasing Lightness, Preserving Sanity and Our Best Laid Plans

12 Chic Swimsuit Styles to Add to Your Summer Bucket List

Hello April! It’s Time for New Beginnings and Conquering our Fears

Kit & Delight: Our Newest Pet Project Dedicated to a Life Well-Cuddled

3 Reasons We Seek Change

#home

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jeniferdlanceau · 7 years

Text

15 highlights from this year's Royal College of Art MA Fashion show

As voters took to the polls last week for the UK's general election, the Royal College of Art's MA fashion students were putting on their end-of-year show at an old studio in east London. Design reporter Alice Morby picks her highlights from the evening's catwalk show, installations and performance pieces.

The RCA MA Fashion show took place last week in a space in Shoreditch that was once the studio of Turner Prize-winning artist Rachel Whiteread.

Typical of an RCA presentation, the show's format included a range of performance pieces and installations as well as a more traditional catwalk show.

The presentation – held on the same night as the UK's general election – had strong undercurrents of race, class and gender exploration, something course leader Zowie Broach attributed to the current political climate.

"It is fitting that the show takes place at the very moment when the UK decides on its future government," said Broach. "Since the UK voted to leave the EU last June, students have been asking urgent questions about owning their own culture that haven't been asked for generations."

"They have been pushed to ask deeper questions about fashion within the current political climate and its power to effect change in this unsettling landscape."

From the 48 students across each pathway, here are our 15 highlights:

Ellie Rosseau

Ellie Rosseau's menswear pieces were influenced by the Manchester club scene, with trippy coloured knits combined with graffiti-style messages. It was probably the most poignant collection of the night, given its connection to Manchester, and Rosseau paid tribute to the recent terrorist attacks with models presenting a bee symbol – an emblem of support widely shared on social media – on their hands. She also pledged her support for Jeremy Corbyn, with a sign saying "Corbyn in Tories out".

Charlotte McDonald

Many members of Charlotte McDonald's family have been in the military, something that has inspired her interest in masculinity and how it is represented. Her uniform-style collection was made using a process called radio frequency welding, which involves using an electromagnetic current to weld the layers of rubber and denim together.

Bianca Saunders

Titled Personal Politics, Bianca Saunders' graduate collection is an extension of her research into defining modern black masculinity. When designing the garments, she used interviews with writer Kareem Reid as a starting point for conversations she then had with fellow students at the RCA about their own identity. From this, she created clothes that challenged the preconceived ideas they spoke about – resulting in outfits made from contrasting fabrics that had been textured with pleats and draped elements.

Rhiannon Wakefield

Given her interest in the way the clothing responds to movement, Rhiannon Wakefield created a "kinetic textile" for her garments that showed different textures and flecks of colour as the models moved around the catwalk. "I believe in the importance of understanding and appreciating the relationship between textile and garment, with the harmony between the two allowing for every piece to be completely unique to its purpose," she said.

Jennifer Koch

Jennifer Koch's models came bounding down the catwalk in metallic tracksuits while throwing fortune cookies at the audience. "Im influenced by the awkward moment after a racially insensitive question," she said. "It's the moment you struggle to tell someone off or laugh it off and crack a joke to show the insensitiveness. I consider myself a happy person who will always answer with humour."

Mathilde Krab Nymann

Mathilde Krab Nymann's collection was strikingly understated. She based the collection on the personal thoughts and reflections she'd had throughout her time on the masters course, particularly thoughts that had made her "reconsider prior assumptions". A simple, monochrome palette allowed the garment's construction to become the focus, with seams appearing on the outside of workwear-style jackets and trousers.

Seunghee Lim

Inspired by monotonous and repetitive trips from studio to home during the course of the masters programme, Seunghee Lim began looking to the way everyday objects themselves can be "objectified". A ready-meal case provided the inspiration for this final collection, specifically its moulded sections and labels. "I wanted to show this as ordinary and reject a concentrated aesthetic of beauty," said Lim.

Binbin Hu

Inspired by smokers outside on the street, Binbin Hu's performance sought to expose the relationships these people develop with the space they have to smoke in. Sitting inside a small courtyard, models were bound to each other in white jersey outfits.

Camilla Damkjaer

Camilla Damkjaer's womenswear collection featured a bold colour palette of lime greens, yellows and browns. In hopes of "celebrating the human touch", texture became an important part of her designs. "My work revolves around creating material and techniques that capture the agency of the wearer's body," she said.

Arnar Mar Jonsson

Icelandic Arnar Mar Jonsson looked to his native culture, citing drinking being one of the "main activities" that takes place there. He looked to the way football shirts spark conversations, and how this relates to a form of "neo-tribalism" that means people engage on the basis of common interest. "Informed by being from Iceland where being in nature and drinking culture are the main activities. By observing my social environment, through my people, I use that observation to inform my garments," he said.

Matthew Duffy

Middlesborough-born Matthew Duffy was another designer who cited football kits as a point of inspiration. He looked at gender-related performances in his family, his brother being a footballer and his mother being a beauty queen, and created outfits informed by sashes and football knits. "The football kit and the pageant sash are both images of my family's ability to pass and thrive, " he said. "I used these pieces as the basis of my collection - I recontextualised them into something I understand and take ownership of through drape and knit."

Dan He

Located on the top floor of the studio space, Dan He's collection was eerily presented on models that looked like mannequins. Inspired by technology, engineering and non-fashion-related materials, he created dresses from carbon fibre that covered the models' heads and were illuminated in some sections.

Zahra Hosseini

Zahra Hosseini opened the show with her Iran-inspired collection, which aimed to put across a message about the way Islam is misconceived in the western world. She created a gown that was gradually dismantled and spread across the catwalk by four models, who then knelt onto each section and began to pray.

Rosie Danford-Phillips

Rosie Danford-Phillips was inspired by "an intense desire to infect sterile white spaces with nature", and sent colourful garments patterned with floral arrangements, trees and butterflies down the catwalk. She also had an installation upstairs, in which a model was hidden within an abundance of greenery.

Abbie Stirrup

Abbie Stirrup's performance in the basement involved models being doused in neon slime, creating what looked like a skin-tight body suit. She takes inspiration from her personal life experiences and – obviously – colour.

15 designers to watch from this year's Central Saint Martins BA Fashion show

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juliandmouton30 · 7 years

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15 highlights from this year's Royal College of Art MA Fashion show

The RCA MA Fashion show took place last week in a space in Shoreditch that was once the studio of Turner Prize-winning artist Rachel Whiteread.

Typical of an RCA presentation, the show's format included a range of performance pieces and installations as well as a more traditional catwalk show.

"They have been pushed to ask deeper questions about fashion within the current political climate and its power to effect change in this unsettling landscape."

From the 48 students across each pathway, here are our 15 highlights:

Ellie Rosseau

Charlotte McDonald

Bianca Saunders

Rhiannon Wakefield

Jennifer Koch

Mathilde Krab Nymann

Seunghee Lim

Binbin Hu

Camilla Damkjaer

Arnar Mar Jonsson

Matthew Duffy

Dan He

Zahra Hosseini

Rosie Danford-Phillips

Abbie Stirrup

15 designers to watch from this year's Central Saint Martins BA Fashion show

The post 15 highlights from this year's Royal College of Art MA Fashion show appeared first on Dezeen.

from ifttt-furniture https://www.dezeen.com/2017/06/12/15-best-graduate-designers-2017-royal-college-art-ma-fashion-show/

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savetopnow · 6 years

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Just the AFTER // Client Black Houses are the Best Houses

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It’s Me… on the Chris Loves Julia Podcast!!

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:: CLIENT WELCOME TO LA WE HOPE YOU STAY ::

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Recipe: Healthy Mushroom Spinach Egg Skillet

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2018-04-04 11 HOME now

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It’s Me… on the Chris Loves Julia Podcast!!

+ WHITE PAINT DIGEST 2018 +

:: CLIENT WELCOME TO LA WE HOPE YOU STAY ::

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Crazy Sexy Cool Kitchen Design

Recipe: Healthy Mushroom Spinach Egg Skillet

A Dozen Easter Table Inspirations

Idea to Steal: Fuzzy Wuzzy Seats

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Meet the New Seattle Design Center!

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