$LAYYYTER
titsay
if i look back, i am lost
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
noise dept.
@theartofmadeline
One Nice Bug Per Day
wallacepolsom
Kiana Khansmith
★
Sweet Seals For You, Always
hello vonnie
No title available
styofa doing anything
Game of Thrones Daily
will byers stan first human second
No title available
h
almost home
Sade Olutola
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Australia
seen from Greece
seen from Malaysia
seen from Venezuela
seen from Türkiye
seen from Italy
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Venezuela
seen from Brazil
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@queenrcsie
2-14
2. who is your favorite artist?
answered.
3. what is your favorite music genre?
answered.
4. have you ever had a penpal?
“Unfortunately, no, but I’d love one!”
5. are you single or in a relationship?
“I consider myself married to my work.”
3, 26, 48
3. what is your favorite music genre?
“Is pop a cliche? I’ll listen to anything on the radio.”
26. what is your favorite film?
“’Catch Me If You Can’.”
48. what is your favorite memory?
“There was this beach my family and I went to when we were younger. We used to swim out as far as we could and race each other back to the shore. I remember the chill from the Atlantic brushing against my toes and looking down and seeing nothing but pitch black. Scary, now that I think about it, but at the time, I loved staring into the unknown and having it stare back at me.”
cwindsr:
Cecelia had been out with a few close friends, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. When she wasn’t at a scheduled public engagement, the princess didn’t like to draw any kind of attention to herself. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just a simple burgundy dress and understated makeup. The more she could blend in, the better it would be for her. Sure, there were people who knew who she was, and there was a few that felt like they had seen her somewhere before, but for the most part she was unbothered. Her security team was able to deter anyone who tried to take pictures or videos of her. Cecelia had quietly made her way over to the bar and had been speaking to her guard when an elaborately dressed woman spoke to her.
“No, but I’m sure that person over there staring at you would be happy to,” Cecelia commented, glancing in their direction before looking back to the other woman. “Oh, that won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer,” she said, a smile spreading across her delicate facial features.
“Not too interested in anyone that doesn’t catch my eye right off the bat,” she insisted, a smile toning down the ice in her voice. Leaning against the bar, her eyes scanned the rows of alcohol in front of her. So many options and although all had a mutual end, Rosie wasn’t all too interested in spending her money on something that had similar outcomes. If she wanted routine, she would have settled on a huge bottle of Grey Goose and watched as her company slowly fell apart one by one until they were reenacting The Hangover. A cruel goal indeed, she pointed at a bottle of champagne, the bartender on the other side wordlessly taking it and handing it over. “This should be enough to get them to slow down, right?” She noted hopelessly, the gold foil gleaming from the dim lighting above. “Maybe water would be a better idea.”
milothornton:
The Thornton had wrapped up with an unconventional business meeting per his investors request at the bar. For all intents and purposes it went well and it seemed like things would be progressing forward full throttle with the creation of his soccer facility by the riverfront. Milo was more than elated and pleased with the outcome of events that he decided to hang back and enjoy the rest of his evening at the establishment. Texting a few of his childhood friends to accompany him as he approached the bar, he overheard a couple celebrating their anniversary and decided to get a round for the two.
To his surprise, a nosy blonde heiress thought he was in pursuit of her and Milo couldn’t help but be amused. “Wow and I thought I was a hard ass,” he smirked at the beauty despite her rash comment. “One, I wasn’t buying you a drink although I’m pretty sure you’d reconsider and say yes knowing that I’m not some lowly boy on the totem pole clambering for your heart Ms. Rose.” Thanking the bartender as he served the drinks to the couple, Milo raised his empty glass towards them, before returning his attention to the woman. “But, I’m not too proud to let a woman buy me a drink, so if it’s on you, I will have the top shelf bourbon madame.”
“I quit,” came the simple reply. So fragile, men’s egos. She often wondered if they thought before they spoke or were only worried about their appearances in the long-run. She had hoped she hadn’t come off too strong, but here he was, proving she’d been built like a concrete-enforced fortress. She couldn’t let her guard down for even a moment. It was quite ridiculous. She assumed too much and that was usually her downfall. Always assuming the worst of people. It was partially why her relationship with her mother was so strained when she was alive. Why she didn’t trust Anthony but kept him in the back of her mind when fleshing out ordeals. The company should’ve been his. Navigating to the other side of the man, she waved a finger to a familiar face behind the bar.
“Bottle of tequila for the mess back there,” she smiled, gesturing to the bridal party she’d abandoned upon entry. “And a bottle of Four Roses for Adonis here.” Receiving a curt nod, Rosie took the stool next to him, offering a smile. “You don’t mind if I join you, right? Not really feeling the ambiance over there.”
madcofrainbows:
Clubs and bars had always been Johanna’s element. It had been the first few establishments where she’d gotten a job (right after getting out of the big Banks mansion with her only real skills being music and knowing how to pour drinks thanks to her own merit and alcohol problem she developed from a very young age), and she hadn’t stopped since. Although the music producer once DJ didn’t have any reasons whatsoever to go back to nightclubs, they were still the main source for connections.
Most of the artists she worked with (or planned on working with) all were predictable enough to be found drinking on the shiniest, fanciest club in town and Johanna was there on a regular basis, ordering apple juice to try and trick people into thinking it was scotch (the 3 months sobriety chip was a constant reminder on her pocket, a heavy one that didn’t let her forget), doing small talk and business in a sea of people that once belonged to her circle but didn’t anymore; every night was as stressful, tiring and lonely as the next, but Johanna knew how to endure the crowd like a pro, she’d become a master at it ever since she was born.a
The night wasn’t an exception, the brunette had been buying drinks to one of her artists who had just signed with her to become her producer for her first album and everything was going smoothly and tedious as ever, until a blonde appeared on the stool next to her on the bar and spoke at her direction, making the businesswoman raise a brow in amusement. “I need all the help I can get to gain that redeemable title, so I can insist on the drink” Johanna mused with a smirk, looking at her half-empty glass of apple juice-passing-as-scotch. “I’m afraid I don’t drink so I cannot accept your offer. We can split a plate of french fries? It’s the safest option on their reduced menu I believe. And now that I mentioned it, I would like some french fries.”
“How about I order you a plate of french fries and I’ll just feast on the view,” came the cheeky answer, eyes taking in as much as they could. Forward as ever, Rosie Quinn liked giving attention where it was needed most, even if her attention wasn’t always welcomed. Even so, she never gave any indication she was talking about the person in front of her or the view of the nightlife outside. New York was really a spectacular city full of endless possibilities. Too often it went unnoticed. Some days, she caught herself staring at the passing building’s reflections on her phone screen. She’d stop, take a moment to appreciate the glory of such remarkable skyscrapers around her, and carry on with her day. Even the view from her father’s building was enough to pull her from work. Always attracted to beauty. Was it any wonder her approach?
Tastes ranged, hers--- not necessarily unconventional but neither simple. Maybe that’s what made Rosie herself. She liked what she liked and if she had to admire from afar, she would. Reaching for a napkin, she promptly folded it before pressing her lips against it.
“I bought this new lipstick, but it’s super pigmented. I need at least fifty napkins to stop it from bleeding all over my teeth,” she chuckled, beckoning the bartender over. “Luka!” She called, met with a smile. “Plate of skins for this lovely lady and I’ll get another cranberry juice. Also, can you let Anna know I can’t make it tomorrow night? I have back-to-back meetings all day tomorrow. I’ll send her a gift basket or something.” Met with a nod, Rosie’s attention was back on the brunette. “Oh, shoot--- did you want a drink? You can have my cranberry juice. I’ll just get something else.”
larisms:
Clubs were chaotic places and sure, there were times when Lara appreciated the heated atmosphere and there was nothing more exciting than getting lost on the packed dance floor with dozens of bodies around her pulsing to the beat. Other times she preferred hanging out by the bar with her clique of art enthusiasts– where they’d create an exclusive circle only privileged could step in and the only sound drowning their voices was their own laughter. They challenged each other, entertained each other, discussed art and raised their glasses to Frida and Claude and Andy. As special as all of those remarkable artists were to Lara, she couldn’t not notice the one and only Ms. Quinn appearing, seemingly out of nowhere. Golden waves, legs for days and all dolled up. A knowing smirk found its way to Lara’s lips and firstly, she checked out the company Rosie Quinn kept. A bachelorette party, was it? There was alcohol (lots of it), ridiculous headwear and more alcohol (shots) followed by loud wooos. Perhaps Lara should be taking notes from the ladies whooping it up on the dance floor of what a proper raging bachelorette party should look like. After all, as Cecelia’s Maid of Honor she would soon be throwing one as well. Finally, Lara did bring her gaze to the other blonde, a brilliant smile adorning her lips as she leaned in a bit and said softly. “You can’t possibly know what I’m thinking, Rose.” Glancing over her shoulder, she excused herself from the deep philosophical art discussion and let her gaze rest on the other blonde. Needless to say it’d been a while since the two of them spent some quality time together but some things never change– thought Lara to self as she, with great curiosity, studied Rose– some of the gestures she performed with such ease. The borderline rude light-hearted giggling, the hair tossing. The dark flicker in bright blue eyes implying disinterest. “Having fun?” Lara knew the answer even before asking but she had to tease the other blonde a little.
Ah, the sweet, sense-numbing presence of Lara Sawyer (only in the best way, of course). She often thought about Lara as the sole reasoning of why Rosie’s interests flocked towards beautiful, blonde women. She had it all. The body, the mannerisms, the mystery--- and Rose lived for it all. There were times when she thought about the other. Usually, what she had been up to in the time they had been apart. What event she’d graced with her presence and if there was anyone she was seeing. Fling, was a fling, was a fling; in the blonde’s mind--- but Lara held something precious that no one could ever have the honor of taking nowadays. She was held in high regard in Rosie’s mind. Something she did not often give to those in her circles.
“Loads,” she insisted with a curt eye roll as the whooping women across the bar caught her attention once again. Already drunk from bar-hopping, the bridesmaids were making their rounds, inviting an abundance of men to their ‘private’ table no doubt to share in the bottle service pre-ordered. Marriage was really a sight, and she briefly remembered her own bachelorette, tucked into the confines of her mind before promptly dismissing them. Giving the other her full attention, she offered a smile. “Daughter of a fellow colleague of my father’s. Marrying her off at twenty-one. You’d think she would’ve been against it from the start, but she’s been more than elated at the idea of her very own Princess Diaries wedding.”
judenolans:
“It was strictly not a wet dream. More like a very bizarre, pseudo-nightmare I woke up from feeling very relieved that it was merely a dream. I’m not sure if I can answer that in a way that won’t incriminate me, so I’ll plead the fifth.”
“Why do I have a hard time believing that?” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Curiosity will actually kill me if you don’t spill.”
55, 63, 64, 65
55. Do you want kids?
“Not really my cup of tea.”
63. Netflix or Youtube?
“Disney plus.”
64. Ice cream or frozen yogurt?
“Yogurt. I feel less guilty.”
65. Succulents or flowers?
“Succulents. Flowers die too quickly.”
2, 7, 15
2. Who is your favourite artist?
“Halsey. She’s not problematic yet.”
7. What is your favourite word?
“Ice.”
15. What languages do you speak?
“Russian, Greek, English, French, and some Korean. Only the basics.”
some asks 🌿
• 1. have you ever been in love?
• 2. who is your favorite artist?
• 3. what is your favorite music genre?
• 4. have you ever had a penpal?
• 5. are you single or in a relationship?
• 6. what color are your eyes?
• 7. what is your favorite word?
• 8. do you play any instruments?
• 9. what is your favorite color?
• 10. do you have any nicknames?
• 11. what is your favorite flower?
• 12. what qualities do you find attractive in a person?
• 13. do you have any pets?
• 14. have you ever traveled outside of your home country?
• 15. what language(s) do you speak?
• 16. who was your first crush?
• 17. do you wear glasses?
• 18. what is your favorite pastry?
• 19. do you prefer swimming in a pool or in the ocean?
• 20. bright, dark, or pastel colors?
• 21. what is your favorite social media app?
• 22. what is your sexuality?
• 23. do you have any siblings?
• 24. what is your favorite scent?
• 25. where do you want to travel to?
• 26. what is your favorite film?
• 27. who do people say you look like? (celebrity/family member)
• 28. who is your best friend?
• 29. what is your dream job?
• 30. do you know how to drive?
• 31. who is/was your favorite teacher?
• 32. are you a feminist?
• 33. what is your zodiac sign?
• 34. do you enjoy reading?
• 35. do you have any hidden talents?
• 36. have you ever dyed your hair?
• 37. what is your favorite thing in your bedroom?
• 38. what is your biggest fear?
• 39. can you whistle?
• 40. do you make your bed every day?
• 41. do you have any tattoos and/or piercings?
• 42. have you ever been on a roller coaster?
• 43. surfing or skateboarding?
• 44. are you a dog or a cat person?
• 45. what is your favorite animal?
• 46. do you have a skincare routine?
• 47. what time do you typically go to bed at and what time do you wake up at?
• 48. what is your favorite memory?
• 49. how tall are you?
• 50. what is the best gift you’ve ever received?
• 51. do you have a garden?
• 52. do you like bugs?
• 53. what is your natural hair color?
• 54. what is your favorite food and drink?
• 55. do you want kids?
• 56. what is/was your favorite class?
• 57. what color shirt are you wearing?
• 58. if you could time travel, what year would you go to and why?
• 59. what is your skin color?
• 60. hugs or kisses?
• 61. have you ever drank alcohol?
• 62. have you ever done drugs?
• 63. netflix or youtube?
• 64. ice cream or frozen yogurt?
• 65. succulents or flowers?
@queenrcsie too!!
Rosie usually swept in like an unseen tsunami, heels clacking against grey-brown linoleum on her way to join the rest of the cesspool in front of her in ordering a drink. Her entourage carrying themselves across the foyer to an unmarked table as they waited for her to join them--- nothing out of the ordinary for a typical Saturday night. Rosie enjoyed making an entrance. It was usually on-brand for her to make her presence known. Dazzling cocktail dresses tailored to her every dip and curve; stilettos so sharp one could cut themselves merely looking at them, and always paired with a ravage of sandy-blonde tendrils seeping down like vines; stark in contrast to her dark attire. Daring, mildly audacious, and absolutely dramatic, she enjoyed being looked at.
After chatting with the girls she often rubbed elbows with on her way in, she promptly excused herself to the bar, a desperate need for something that wasn’t entirely thought-numbing as the mindless chit-chat of the Real Housewives of New York. She’d often busy herself in clubs like these regardless of how often the media vilified her name during a regular day-out. She simply existed where PR was best. Reapplying her lipstick, a voice caught her attention and yet gave no indication of noticing as her eyes remained glued to the compact mirror in her hand.
“If you’re thinking of buying me a drink,” came the simple answer, matched with an almost haughty presence. “I quit. It doesn’t do anything for me besides make eighty percent of the people in my line of view suddenly redeemable,” she chirped with a deceivingly light-hearted giggle. Watch your tongue, she scolded herself. She might’ve added not giving a flying fuck about whoever’s bachelorette she was attending that evening. Tucking the compact away into her clutch, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, maintaining with a toothy grin. “How about I buy you a drink?”
(( @cityofdreamsstarters ))
mayaxwilliams:
It was a regular day for Maya, she woke up in the afternoon with a hangover, went to her favorite coffee shop and ordered a strong, black coffee, then made her way to her favorite shop Darling and bought bunch of dresses she wasn’t going to wear more than once or twice.
“Unbelievable.” Maya scoffed dramatically, her shoulders rolled into a lazy shrug. “This is the third time a homeless person asked me for money.” Her eyes rolled before turning to the nearest person. “Do I look like I am running a fucking charity?” @cityofdreamsstarters
“If you really think about it,” she began, moving her hair behind her shoulder as she inspected her gown for the gala that evening. “In a city of more than eight-point-four-million people, nearly one in every one-hundred-and-twenty-five New Yorkers is homeless — that's nearly seventy-thousand men, women, and children.” She paused, flitting her gaze to the other as it swept top to bottom and back up, almost in distaste. “You came across three, and you couldn’t spare a dollar?”
(( @mayaxwilliams ))
judenolans:
“What does it mean if you have a sex dream about your brother’s wife? But like, you’re not attracted to her in any way. I mean, she is a pretty lady but I don’t see her like that, never have — okay I’m just making this worse the more I speak, I think.”
@cityofdreamsstarters
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe it’s an unspoken rule to keep wet dreams to yourself, big boy,” she smiled, sipping delicately at her flat white. “Was she at least any good?”
(( @judenolans ))
itwasjustablaise:
Where: Manhattan, The Met When: 30 minutes to 5 Aesthetic: Links + Song
It was late, at least too late to be visiting The Met, but when has that ever stoped Blaise before? The answer is never. Blaise rose up his left arm, turning it slightly as he eyed the hour on his classic wristwatch, “Shit, it’s almost 5-,” he mumbled to himself. This isn’t the first time Blaise was dareful enough to go into the museum 30 minutes before it was due to close. You see, The Met does this thing where they clear out visitors anywhere from 15-20 minutes before closing, so Blaise knew this wasn’t the brightest time to want to be a tourist, yet here he was. He needed to see it, he needed to see the painting that meant so much to him.
Chewing on his bottom lip, he dashed into the museum, turning the heads of the workers and museum goers who recognized him, - for you see Blaise was no stranger to this world. If you dabbled in the world of art, you knew Blaise, you’ve seen his pieces at least once in your life, you’ve heard his lectures, or been fortunate to step foot into his gallery at least once, which has proven to be not such an easy task for many who admired his work. After all, Blaise did everything in his power to leave his celebrity lifestyle behind in Texas, which is no wonder he tried his hardest to limit himself from public display whenever he could.
He could taste something on his tongue, it was blood, he was biting too hard, 'Dammit.’ he quietly thought to himself, as at last, there it was, the painting. Slowly walking up to her, as if he had all the time in the world, his eyes widen with each step he took, approaching her ever so carefully. Almost as if he walked too hard he may frighten her and ‘cause her to runaway, no, he wouldn’t want that. He wanted her to stay around, long enough for him to feel something again, even if it was for a simple second. “Isn’t she, beautiful?” Blaise questioned out loud, pausing for just a moment, not even noticing the body standing and gazing at the same painting next to him. “I miss you so much Lily.” he said in the softest tone, as if he didn’t say it out loud it would be far too disrespectful. He let out a deep sigh and let his tongue run over his bottom lip, feeling the blood moisten his lip. His hands were now on the velvet rope, his knuckles bruised and a scar healing across his eyebrow. @cityofdreamsstarters
Rosie admired art with all her being. It was the only thing she enjoyed without feeling like she absolutely had to for the cameras. Growing up, she catered to her audience. A pristine princess untouched by the infidelities of Western culture. Never a child-star, but from the ashes risen like she’d been in the business for years. Make an appearance--- make a mark, her father would implore--- and perhaps she had, but Rosie’s true interests were in the bold. The archaic. Art could be so messy, but it was the emotions placed in every painting that drew her in. Every sketch, every brushstroke; colours flooding with anger or tranquility. All of it. She could spend hours staring at each one, configuring why it was made and how. Perhaps it was the only piece left of her that was real.
Taking her time, she was met with a voice, briefly pulling her from her hypnosis. She took a step back, the entirety of painting as a whole lining up and she smiled. It wasn’t any of her business. She didn’t tread in fear of overstepping boundaries, but instead crossed her arms, nodding.
“She really is,” she remarked, pressing her lips together. A sidelong gaze to the individual beside her before panning back to the painting. “I’d ask if you were the artist, but that felt a little too on the nose.”
(( @itwasjustablaise ))
( BLAKE LIVELY + FEMALE ) — Have you seen ROSIE QUINN ? This TWENTY-NINE year old is a/an HEIRESS who resides in MANHATTAN. SHE has/have been living in NYC for THREE YEARS, and is/are known to be INTELLIGENT and AMBITIOUS, but can also be SELF-CENTERED and ALOOF, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with JEWEL-ENCRUSTED HIGH HEELS and THE GODDESS APHRODITE
here’s my little trouble-maker, rosie! as per last post, her stats are here and a short and sweet introduction is under the cut! if you’d like to plot, please like this post and i will message you asap!!
