Cosimo Galluzzi
cherry valley forever
I'd rather be in outer space šø

Janaina Medeiros

@theartofmadeline
No title available

JVL
No title available
DEAR READER
Sweet Seals For You, Always
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
trying on a metaphor

titsay
Cosmic Funnies

No title available

oozey mess
sheepfilms
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
seen from Romania

seen from Netherlands

seen from United States

seen from Canada

seen from Ukraine

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from T1

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from South Korea

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
@charlesasimov
evanabuchananā:
Keep reading
hans-starkeā:
Hans scoffs, āThis is an introduction? And here I was, thinking we could merrily part as strangers. Your side tends to like that better.ā No wrong answers if no questions are asked. Still, Hans shrugs ā and offers his hand. āJohannes Starke ā Hans is fine. Iām a lobbyist for Big Oil.ā He smiles. That info enough? āSo.ā He drops his hand and fixes his cufflinks. āWish I hadnāt introduced myself yet?ā
āYour side tends to like shooting us on our way out.ā Shoulders lift into a shrug, accepting the hand offered with a firm shake.Ā āHans--Charlie. A pleasure.ā Charming until the bitter end, his lips quirk at the corners while the introduction is made, and remain lifted following Hansā clarification. He notes the minute flex of the lobbyistās fingertips over gilded cuff-links, and yet, he doesnāt presume the action to be bred from nerves.Ā āNo, frankly--- do you?ā
SMS: Evan + Charlie
EVAN: Ha. Okay. Noted for the future.
EVAN: It is far.
EVAN: Can I make you dinner? James and Sybil are both out tonight. A rare occasion.
EVAN: A little sympathy wouldn't hurt.
CHARLIE: Yes. I'd like that. What's on the menu?
CHARLIE: How about I show you how sorry I am when I see you? Might not do it justice over SMS.
corinnejmorrisā:
swinginā party ā· @charlesasimovā
it was officially gala season in Washington, d.c.ā well actually everyday was gala season in Washington. Any excuse for opulence was good enough for politicos and the crowds they surrounded themselves with, Corinne didnāt mind though. She adored a good party, with people watching and lots and lots of champagne. As she did her rounds, there were a few whispers of an after party, which she of course received an invite too. Sheād been sober for a week and half and intended to stay far the hell away from coke as she and her little group clambered into the elevator, up to this penthouse party.
Already drunk enough, she couldnāt help but pour herself another glass. Becoming a mixologist in the process as she helped herself to all the bottles and mixers in the kitchen. She shopped it amongst her friends, to see if it was as good as she thought or if she was just really really drunkā fizzy, sweet, sour, pink, and way way way too strong. Itās been awhile since sheās felt this drunk, stumbling heels, lazy smiles, and a spinning head.
For some reason, this development hadnāt made her anxious, in fact she hardly felt anything at all. As her group dispersed into the party, she found herself alone. She stumbled around, like a shitty Cinderellaā staring at modern art on the walls and poking her head into rooms in which she didnāt belong.Ā
She pokes her head into a room filled with people she didnāt recognize. Drunkenly manoeuvring to the crowd, hoping to see a familiar face. Then with a glance, she catches someone who she assumes is Collinā heād take her home, or at least return her to the group.Ā āCollin!ā she says hand ghosting over his shoulder before her heels betray her and she crashes into mystery Collinās side.Ā
āColliā wait youāre not Collin, do you know where Collin is? I think he wants to take me home,ā
Events such as these were part of his repertoire long before he became a politician, long before he became an actor -- they had been intrinsicĀ to growing up, like an Astor or Green, an Asimov. He knows how to take cues, but he also knows when to give them, has mastered the art of polite conversation, how to wave his hands as he speaks, to gesticulate as though the topic at hand is of the utmost importance to him. He offers his company champagne at the precise moment when discord may rear its head -- and, that smile, brandished on hollowed cheeks when flattery has run its (admittedly) brief course. The Charles Asimov smile, a one-thousand-watt gleam, went a long way, and he knew it.
Heās discussing (of all things) his companyās recent charitable efforts in god damn Tunisia when a blonde woman beckons his attention and drapes herself onto his shoulder. For a brief moment, Charlie is thankful to the interruption, momentarily turning away from the senatorās daughter, niece, god daughter---whoever she was, to plant a hand on Corinneās hip and steady her. He casts her a sidelong glance, recognizing her from the post-debate party (a shiver running down his spine at the mere thought). Heavy drinker. Lightweight. Older than she looks, heās guessing. He presses his lips into a thin line of annoyance.
Addicts in this fucking city --- gotta loveĀ āem.Ā
āCollin--.ā He hums,Ā āno, donāt know a Collin. One second,ā Charlie mouths, and the woman heād been talking to quietly excuses herself. Thank fuck.Ā āLooks like your Mr. Darcyās AWOL. What are you going to do about it?ā Arm still tucked around her, he flashes her a shark-like grin.
evanabuchananā:
Evan laughs in that quiet, secretive way of his, the fullness of his joy saved otherwise only for those whom he deems worthy. Though itās clear what he wants from Charlieā and the reciprocal smile does not go unnoticedā Evan isnāt sold on anything beyond that just yet, celebrity and all.Ā
He picks up his coaster, squinting at the words in the dim light of the bar, and recites the lines aloud. Following Charlieās suit, he lowers his voice, too, the poetry reserved for them and them alone.Ā
since feeling is first who pays any attention to the syntax of thingsĀ
He sets the coaster back down on the bartop, taking the opportunity to move himself a fraction of an inch closer, his body turning to face Charlie head-on. He rests his left arm on the side of the bar, the other extended out to his companion.Ā
āIām Evan.ā
His curls muse upon his forehead as he cranes his neck, struggling to give Evan his undivided attention under the din and chatter of the bar. Charlieās eyes shift from the coaster, beading with the sweat of Evanās whiskey, back toward his profile. His eyes were seemingly goading him with lighthearted perusal.Ā āYours is better,ā he says, matter-of-factly,Ā āI like that.āĀ
He graces his hand against Evanās, palms meeting, his thumb wafting across the thin skin of Evanās wrist.Ā āCharles.ā He canāt quite place if Evan know him or not, though heās perfectly fine with not knowing.Ā āCharlie, actually. What better way to break the ice than pretentious poetry?ā Redundant. All poetry is-- in some way or another -- pretentious.Ā āWhat brings you here tonight, Evan?āĀ
evanabuchananā:
āThatād be a pretty terrible business model,ā Evan replies, an eyebrow raised in quiet judgment. He takes a moment to regard the other, his staring rather obvious, but Evan doesnāt careā be it the alcohol or simply his inability to be subtle, Charlie is sure to notice.Ā
He recognizes him, that hair and that jawlineā that jawlineā having graced his television and the covers of the magazines his sister reads, and Evan is rather pleased to learn that itās true what they say about Charles Asimov being just as dazzling up close as he is on the screen. A smile appears, rather shamelessly, across his face.Ā
āMaybe itās telling you not to stop,ā Evan offers. He laughs quietly at the difference of their interpretations. āAfter all, if you had, you wouldnāt be here, would you?ā
He is not only amused but fascinated by the bluntness of Evanās gaze, bumping into the corners and edges of Charlieās figure. Whether it is the death of a Republican presidency, or an overall more lenient atmosphere in D.C, he flickers his brow upward as he takes in Evansā evident appraisal. He doesnāt have to wonder if itās favourable, though the smile smeared across Evanās face is tell-tale. Charlie finds his mouth twisting into thatĀ eponymous, shark-like grin that heās worn across red carpets and movie screens, and shifts his coaster closer to the man beside him. He doesnāt chase after men --- if they end up in the tangle of his affairs or the side of his bed, so be it, no skin off his back, but heās willing to let this go as far as it wants.
āI like your version better,ā He remarks, a little quieter than before although no less interested, bringing his glass to ghost against his lips.Ā āYou going to tell me what yours says or am I going to have to waste our time and guess here?āĀ
evanabuchananā:
@charlesasimov
Evan loses Sybil somewhere in the middle of the partyā heās forgotten which one it is, thereās far too many events going on this week for him to keep track even if he were tryingā and James didnāt return his five frantic calls, so he ends up in a bar. Heās not even sure how he got here. He stumbled into a random hotel and wandered through it until he found one, nestled in the back like itās a secret. With the rest of the world occupied by the weekās eventsā either celebrating the new President or hiding from himā itās rather quiet. He prefers it like that, these days.
He takes a seat at the bar and orders a whiskey. The coaster it comes with has an E.E. Cummings poem scrawled on it in nearly unintelligible handwritingā Evan scoffs at the cliche and tosses it to the side. He turns to the person on his right, curiosity getting the best of his desire to be alone, and points at the poem resting beneath his drink.
āWhat does yours say?ā
The venue is private enough, exclusive to the upper-crusts of D.C., that Charlie doesnāt have to worry about being pestered with questions or mobbed by overzealous fans chucking their Blackberrys at him for a photo --- back doing press in Dallas, some girl and her mother had left an actual mark on his head with their Nokias, which, as far as head injuries went in Dallas, wasnāt too egregious. He still receives the occasional bat of an eye as he sidles up to the bar, but nothing to warrant the thick padding of security usually incubating him
He peels his collar away from his throat --- already stained with aĀ lipstick print from someone he canāt name or even pick out of a crowd of twenty pasty-faced redheads --- feeling flushed, he orders a jack and coke. It arrives on a coaster scribbled with something Charlie doesnāt bother reading until the blond beside him picks at his brain. He looks over, raising a brow at Evan. He sports a boyish look, but everywhere --- thereās an impression of rigid corners and steep depressions, even in the shadows beneath his eyes. Faint, beneath the highlighter yellow glow of the establishment.Ā
He looks down at the coaster and recites the Coleridge pithy.Ā Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.Ā āYou think thatās telling me to quit for the night?āĀ
2009 + love n romance
Love and romance are chemical defects found on the losing side baby! In 2009, itās all about sex, drugs and rock and roll. No love here and definitely no sappy romances with NRA lobbyists.Ā
evanabuchananā:
Keep reading
hans-starkeā:
āFor me, or for you?ā He laughs. āIām fine with Church. Or Bell. Or just about anyone that doesnāt think plastic straws are the root of all evil.ā Looking at you, Zafar. āBut for you? Considering who you work for, Iād say Berkeley is the only option. Whelan and him have been tight for years, havenāt they? I might even have heard a little something about a Veep spot. Now, I donāt know anyone whoād turn down that kinda promotion.ā Itās one thing to command the staff of a senator, and another entirely to do that for a Vice President. Even if Charlie is new to the game, heās surely quick enough to know that. Were Hans more naive, he could have overlooked the once-over for mindless curiosity or a momentary disconnect; but he observes Charlie as he does it, perhaps too closely, their gaze meeting once his eyes come back up. Thereās a joke in there somewhere, but Hans doesnāt share it. āMhm. Lucky are the ones that get to be hated by you, then."Ā
Off the comment, Hans raises a single brow. An actor with no ego? How unexpected. "A face for the radio and a body for the screen?ā He provides. āI wonāt pretend to understand your criteria, Asimov, but Iām happy to watch it.ā
āIām not picky.ā Asimov listens to the lobbyistās assessment with eyes that gleam with amusement, momentarily led astray by the cacophony on stage. Starke made a valid point. Plastic straws were not the root of all evil. But Big Oil would have no qualms funding them if they were.Ā There were no permanent friends in politics, only permanent interests, and from what Charlesā gathered from Berkeleyās still-developing administration was that his interests laid in the future. A future that, though she championed strongly for it, Whelan did not represent.Ā āBerkeley is Senator Whelanās pride, but working directly -- as Senator -- with the people is her joy. I donāt pretend to know why, but I suppose sheās fine, too,ā he echoes Hansā words, the moment in which their eyes lock fizzing away just as quickly as it kindled.Ā āOh, sure. The fifteen seconds of fame is always worth it. A pity few seem to latch on.āĀ
āPiss off,ā Charles says -- jokingly. His shoulders slacken somewhat.Ā āAs far as introductions go, youāre really making me work for this one.ā Stone, is it? Harry? The face is familiar enough for Charles to remember Birdie making some off-handed insult about it -- he knows, instinctively, that he is a part of the fossil fuel fold. āYou seem to know my name, at least. A good start.ā
2009 + stardom
There are aspects of it Hollywood loves and wouldnāt trade for the world; there are also aspects of it that donāt agree with him and he could do without. In 2009, Charlie is at the top of his game, but every climax is followed by a steep decline. Heād never equate being a film star -- or even stardom itself -- with freedom, because though it can be financially freeing for others, heās not able to do things casually and often not on his own terms. Decisions have to be run by his PR agents. A jog to StarbucksĀ requires security. His life (although it being 2009 he isnāt immersed in social media) is continuously scrutinized, watched, and pieced apart.Ā
But then again, this is the life some have killed for, so itās not all bad.Ā
ask me anything: 10 years in the past au edition
questions about any topic or facet of my character in 2009 - their outlook on current events, what theyāve been up to, their ideas about the future, their feelings on jobs, relationships, or anything else!Ā
slip 2009Ā + any topic or questionĀ into my inbox!
SMS: Evan + Charlie
EVAN: Ha. Obviously. I didn't think you needed to be told, though.
EVAN: I enjoy talking to you, too.
EVAN: Sorry I still use my phone as a phone. Aside from asking my brother what's for dinner, I don't think I text anyone other than you.
CHARLIE: Doesn't hurt to say it.
CHARLIE: I enjoy being around you, too. What are you up to tonight? Saturday's too far away.
CHARLIE: Am I supposed to feel bad for you your highness?
SMS: Evan + Charlie
EVAN: Yes, interested. In you. What do you mean, is that all?
EVAN: Hahaha. That could've been an Emmy win, and you missed out.
EVAN: Lots of facts. Tell me something that I couldn't find on Google.
CHARLIE: I was just wondering.
CHARLIE: Shut up. Glad to know you think I'm that good, though.
CHARLIE: I enjoy talking to you. Even if texting is like pulling teeth for you. Does that suffice?
NAME: Charles Asimov. Hollywood heartthrob.Ā AGE IN AU: 25. OCCUPATION: Actor. MARITAL STATUS: Casually dating. Recently linked to Elisa Cuthbert.Ā LIVING ARRANGEMENT: Apartment in L.A., staying at a hotel in D.C.
THE YEAR IS 2009. WHAT WAS YOUR CHARACTER LIKE BACK THEN?Ā
His career in the film industry is going steady and Charlie is in a fairly okay place, still being managed by talent agent David Goldani. Thereās some trying times ahead, but the blinding lights of Hollywood wash everything white. Currently heās wrapping up press in the United States for his upcoming film, Inglourious Basterds, which documents the first year of Germanyās occupation in WW2 France. Asimov plays a minor role opposite Michael Fassbender and MĆ©lanie Laurent.Ā
This will be second to last of hisĀ āmajorā film roles before easing into the indie world.
Charlie is enraptured with the culture of Hollywood. Everything is decidedly brisk. Fast cars, easy money, quick hookups. Heās not bothered by too much. Most of his itinerary is taken care of by a slew of scrupulousĀ employees, and heās almost always surrounded by a team of bodyguards -- and, of course, the occasional gaggle from the press.Ā
Heās a bit more pompous, a bit full of himself, and definitely reads the daily news articles written about him on hisĀ iPhone 3GS.
Heās in D.C. for promotion and will be heading up to Manhattan for the first release of Inglourious Basterds soon after.
no one: absolutely nobody: not a single soul: me: hereās an idea i stole of a comprehensive list of charlieās past relationships