#burlesquerp

[wolfgotjokesarchive]

"...Um. So. I tried?"

[the-bon-fire]

Phone!

Send me PHONE if you want to know what your name in my character’s phone is.

Name:

Never drink tequila with again. Ever

[saintripper-blog]

TVD Burlesque AU

Giuseppe Salvatore, CEO of Salvatore Industries, called upon his two sons one night and told them of his impending decision to only elect one to inherit his business. The catch? Both had to go into entrepreneurship and prove they alone were the financial success of the family. Armed with limited funds, the Brothers decided it would better suit their interests to band together and prove that both were perfectly capable of co-running the multi-billion dollar industry. Even with their pooled capital, it wasn’t enough to purchase a business, not in New York real estate. Enter Katherine Pierce-Gilbert— disgraced diva formerly of the Lockwood Lounge, eager to prove herself worthwhile of the NY Times once more by assisting herself to stardom. The former starlet, loaded with cash and armed with the shame of Hollywood scandal, sought to rebuild her credibility with the help of former lovers, the Salvatore boys. A business partnership was formed, Katherine pooling her cash to help purchase an antiquated theater. Hard work and lots of recruiting later, The Kitten Club was born. This Burlesque/Nightclub recruited heavily from the local New York scene, and out of anonymity and with Katherine’s star power, slowly took to financial success. Pussykat and her Kittens swept the NY social scene, people vying and standing in line for hours just to get a standing room only space. All seemed well— until personal relationships started to get in the way. New hires clashing with old, Damon’s escapades with dancers splashed all over page six, and Katherine threatening to withdraw her financial backing all lend to the club’s seemingly imminent failure. Should it make the year, however, the Salvatore boys stand to inherit billions

[lockwoodedtyler-blog]

ღ

4th Person: A lap dance

At this time of night, Tyler was drunk. Still doing his job to the best of his ability, but drunk nonetheless. Seeing Stiles seated in her usual directing spot he swaggered over in her direction. He wasn't even sure how to go about this type of thing himself but the routine on stage was similar to what he was about to imitate. "Want to see my impression of them?" He asked, cocking his head in the direction of the stage. Not waiting for an answer he straddled Stiles' waist, griding his hips down on her center and tracing his hand over the curve of her chin so their eyes locked - lips leaning down to meet hers before relaxing into the touch. Teasing while he could, he created some friction before pulling back again and standing up. "No need for a tip." 

[lockwoodedtyler-blog]

+ burlesqueverse; open

After hours was the time that Tyler least enjoyed as an employee of the club. Left behind were the stale and half-filled bottles that the costumers or - as they preferred to call them - clients had left behind. Barely touched food and sometimes he even played a game with himself to find something stranger left behind than the previous nights. As the bouncer his job was to make sure everyone had actually left the building, that there was no one hiding under the stage or trying to sneak behind to see the girls without an appointment. Making his way down the back hallway he was looking down at a note in his pocket when he collided with someone else and doubled back in step in reaction to this. Tyler brushed off the front of his shirt looking up to see who he had run into.

[the-bon-fire]

+ I Burlesque Verse I

Her scorching emerald gaze rested in disbelief upon the door to her office-- Of course it wasn't opening when she needed it too. And by needed, she meant desperately had to have it open; stuck outside in four-inch stiletto's, already five-minutes late for a meeting that was two flights above her, she was close to losing her patience. "Damnit," she swore if Damon Salvatore was using her office as a privacy retreat one more time--

--or she locked herself out. She sighed weighing the pros and cons of breaking her door down somehow-- she was in that kind of mood.

[wolfgotjokesarchive]

ღ yolo

Send me a ღ -- Fifth person gets a date.

Dressed to impress in a still comfortable pair of nice jeans coupled with a white button down, a dark grey, form-fitting vest and her most daring pair of heels strapped to her feet completing the ensemble, Stiles couldn't help but smile incredulously across the table from Caroline. There was a smile gracing her features for the whole night -- be it from laughing at something Caroline said, or smiling sheepishly at a compliment thrown her way. It was like she was seeing a whole different version of Caroline since she'd asked her out for dinner after a grueling rehearsal; a version that Stiles couldn't help but be drawn to, that she wanted to get to know. Shoving a curly fry into her mouth to try to stop her smile from growing to the point that it was splitting her face in two, she waited until she swallowed before commenting, "I feel like I'm overdressed for this place." She gestured around the grillhouse they were at, her hand dropping back to the table so she could take a sip of her drink. "But I appreciate you going to a place that serves actually decent curly fries." Another, more private smile made her lips curl upward as she watched Caroline laugh, sitting back in her seat with satisfaction warming her from the inside out.

[wolfgotjokesarchive]

ღ

Send me a ღ -- First person gets a kiss.

Stiles pressed her lips into a thin line, her arms crossed tightly over her chest before she gave a little huff, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Leaning forward, she wrapped an arm around Katherine's waist, the other moving to run along her side over her shirt, stopping just below her breast just to slide over to splay between her shoulder-blades. "You better not try anything funny, Gilbert-Pierce," she muttered, right before leaning that much more forward to press her lips against the other's; a soft kiss, despite her apparent annoyance at having to kiss the other girl.