#Vanity Fair Game Show

[brian-in-finance]

Eleanor and Caitríona: De Beers Flagship Store Opening Event, 24 November 2021, London (Photo: Getty Images)

Tony, Caitríona, and Eleanor: Wimbledon, Day 7, Centre Court, 8 July 2019, London (Photo: Getty Images)

Filming has commenced in Leeds and Belgium on the six-parter from Professor T producer Eagle Eye Drama, which follows Tomlinson’s Evie and Pete (Harry Potter star Alfred Enoch), who move into an upscale neighborhood and find themselves in a world of curtain twitching and status anxiety. They find friendship in the shape of the couple next door, alpha traffic cop Danny (Heughan) and his wife, glamorous yoga instructor Becka (Jessica De Gouw), but after Danny and Evie share a passionate night together, there is trouble ahead.

The U.S. streamer and UK network, who never have co-produced together, described The Couple Next Door as a “psychological drama, exploring the stultifying claustrophobia of suburbia and the fallout of chasing your darkest desires.”

Tomlinson is best known for playing Demelza Poldark opposite Aidan Turner across five seasons of hit BBC drama Poldark. Other credits include Stephen Merchant comedy-drama The Outlaws and Netflix’s upcoming adaptation of David Nicholls’ One Day.

Scottish actor Heughan is gearing up for a seventh season of Starz hit Outlander, in which he plays Jamie Fraser, while he is also starring in Priyanka Chopra Jonas rom-com Love Again with Celine Dion – set for May release. He generated headlines recently when his memoir revealed how a brutal rape scene in Outlander Season 1 had impacted him negatively.

Marcella writer David Allison is penning The Couple Next Door, Professor T‘s Dries Vos is directing, and EPs are Jo McGrath, Walter Iuzzolino and Alison Kee.

The thriller is based on Dutch series New Neighbours and feeds into Eagle Eye’s strategy of turning European hits into shows for the major English-language markets, following Channel 4’s Suspect, which is based on a Danish series, and ITV’s Professor T, which is based on a show from Belgium.

The show was commissioned by Channel 4’s Caroline Hollick and Rebecca Holdsworth. EVP Programming Karen Bailey is overseeing The Couple Next Door for Starz, and it will be distributed by Beta Film.

Instagram Deadline

Jamie & Claire Fraser: S04E03 The False Bride, 18 November 2018

Photo

How Well Do Outlander's Caitríona Balfe & Sam Heughan Know Each Other? | Vanity Fair Game Show, Season 6 Promo, 14 April 2022, YouTube

Remember… when you’re working with your friends, it doesn’t feel like it’s work. — Ken Jeong

[cressida-jayoungr]

Coeli's Picks: Purple, part 2

(Multiple movies listed left to right.)

One Dress a Day Challenge

May: Purple Redux

Donkey Skin (Peau d'âne) (1970) / Delphine Seyrig as the Lilac Fairy

The Wrecking Crew (1968) / Elke Sommer as Linda Karensky

Vanity Fair (2004) / Reese Witherspoon as Becky Sharp

Doctor Who (season 16, "The Androids of Tara") / Mary Tamm as Romanadvoratrelundar (Romana)

Hello, Dolly! (1969) / costume for Barbra Streisand as Dolly Levi

Hum Aapke Hain Koun! (1994) / Madhuri Dixit-Nene as Nisha Choudhury

The Muppet Show (episode 424) / Diana Ross as Herself

Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald (2018) / Zoë Kravtiz as Leta Lestrange

The Hunger Games (2012) / Elizabeth Banks as Effie Trinket

Scooby Doo (2002) / Sarah Michelle Gellar as Daphne

Casino Royale (2006) / Eva Green as Vesper Lynd

Star Trek: The Original Series (s3e1, "Spock's Brain") / Marj Dusay as Kara

Star Trek: The Next Generation (s2e16, "Q Who?") / Whoopi Goldberg as Guinan

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016) / Lina Headey as Lady Catherine de Bourgh

[pshbites]

GIVE ME ONE MORE KISS, KISS, KISS ━ sjy

pairing : bf!jake x fem!reader genre : fluff, est relationship warnings : none! synopsis : just before you can leave for a girls night out your clingy boyfriend tries to hold you captive with kisses wc : 0.7k a/n : YES this is inspo off of no doubt and YES i know its unoriginal but these lyrics scream clingy!jake ;)

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is always appreciated!!

jake pouted, watching you do your makeup. “okay but why can’t i come!” he whined for nth time, making you laugh. “baby for the last time, it’s a girls night there isn’t gonna be any guys there” you shook your head, applying your blush. “c'mon baby you know i don’t care about other guys, i wanna go with you” he frowned, clutching your pink pillow tighter in his chest. 

jake was.. a clingy boyfriend in the most loving way possible. he was never jealous or insanely overprotective, he was just a little clingy! you couldn’t say much because the two of you were as equally as clingy with one another but you hadn’t seen your girlfriends in so long that you were yearning to go out with them. jake would never stop you from seeing your friends but he would whine and pout about it as he was doing now. 

“baby if the other girls were bringing their boyfriends i would! but they aren’t. plus it’ll only be a couple hours” you reassured him, not knowing he would only react bigger. “hours?!?” he groaned out, still clutching the same pillow. you laughed a little, finishing up your makeup. “don’t laugh! you look so good just stay with me!!” jake whined, watching you turn around in your vanity chair. “you’ll live baby i promise” he pouted once more, shifting so he could sit criss-cross on your bed. ”can i just come with? i swear i’ll mind my own business please” he said again, watching you make your way over to your full length mirror. 

you looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled, laughing softly. “for the last time baby its a girls night!” you replied, jake now getting up to lean against the wall next to the mirror. “yeah but it’s like i wont be there! cmon please” he flashed you his puppy eye which would’ve worked but you were already ready to leave! its not like you could just change and then stay home but jake sure seemed to think that was the solution to his problem. you laughed, pushing his shoulder away slightly. 

many people would be annoyed to have a boyfriend that was as clingy as jake was but you knew it was out of love, and to be fair you had no room to judge because just last week you made him get off of his game to watch a show you wanted to watch with him. so you didn’t mind that jake was now in the state that you were in that night.

“baby for the last time, i can’t just bail on them and you can’t come with! i promise next time i’ll convince them to include our boyfriends, okay?” you looked at jake, looking his big doe eyes and he sighed out, admitting defeat. “fine.. text me everything okay! and whatever pictures you take, send them to me like the second you take them!” he said, now a bit more serious and a little sad. “of course i will baby, walk me out?” you held out your hand in front of him and he grabbed it, the two of you walking out of your room and to the front door. 

at the front door, jake let go of your hand to let you put on your shoes and jacket as he leaned against the wall, watching you. more like admiring you but you weren’t paying attention to him looking at you. you looked up and saw him smiling. “can i get a goodbye kiss since you’re leaving me for hours.” you rolled your eyes playfully at his dramatics and walked over, placing a peck on his lips. “that good?” you mumbled, smiling at him. jake pondered for a second then shook his head ‘no’. “one more” he said, angling his head so his cheek was facing you, you smiled and kissed his cheek. “ah you have to do the other one too” he turned his head the other way so the other side of his face was facing you. you kissed his cheek once more and leaned back. 

“that good now?” you said, hoping he would agree but as you expected he shook his head, making you laugh. “jake i really gotta go” you whined out, hoping he would just let you go. he sighed and groaned. “fine fine, go have fun” he spoke out, shutting his eyes in a playful manner. you laughed, shoving his shoulder and heading to the door. “bye bye baby” you waved and jake kept on waving until you shut the door, making you smile at his silly antics. 

taglist : @cupidhoons @leeechin @chobunz @wensurr @ja4hyvn @kozumesphone @17ericas @suneng @hyunnies-world @kiss4noo @jellyluv4eva @heelariously @laylasbunbunny @silquids @squiishymeow @heeambi @yourmomssneakylink @rriribelle @srehyaps @bubblytaetae @t1iqaa @en-heedeungie @wintertxt @sweettaitea @beatrizmel-472 @i03jae @jakef3ver @mamuljji @coqhee @luvyou2ooo @thedemonriot @justalittle-hee @jjongsaengzz @beigerin @mariahxrrera @cherrybeomm @vveebee @mitmit01 @blockbusterhee @yeehawnana @mochamvgz @livelaughluvryanreynolds @ami-soph @sunghoonsperfume @tzyunaes @cripplinghooman @sunooblitz @kolawnk @ningningiloveumarryme @m1kkso @ronniee-26 @wavetokgv @baerinaa @laylasbunbunny (bold cannot be tagged)

enha taglist

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[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader play the vanity fair game show

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

based off the OBX3 interview + suggested by this ask <3

“I am Madelyn Cline and we are here to test how well we know each other.” Madelyn said into the camera, sitting in the “hot seat”. The rest of her OBX costars sat opposite her in two rows, shoulder to shoulder and grinning ear to ear. Drew sat in the back, along with Rudy, JD, and Austin, where y/n sat in the front with Madison, Carlacia, and Chase. Drew wore a light purple blazer, a color the boys had made sure to tease him for all day, but he didn’t mind. Y/n liked the color on him, so of course he was going to wear it.

“... and we’re the cast of Outer Banks!” Madison and Carlacia said, the rest of the cast joining them and waving at the camera. Madison put her head down with a giggle before composing herself and straightening up once more. Y/n could feel Drew’s fingers combing lightly through her hair, playing with the ends as they waited for the game to begin. She looked back at him, grinning at his long, tousled hair. He smiled back, his fingers continuing to run through her hair as they focused back on the game.

“Ok, first question: which astrological sign do I like the most other than mine?” Madelyn said, the end of her marker resting on her lip as she thought. Quickly, the room burst into shouts and guesses, everyone clamoring to win the very first point of the game. Drew stood from his chair, craning his neck to see what Madelyn’s card read.

“Hey, no cheating!” Y/n pointed at him, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face before he sat back down.

“I’m gonna say Gemini.” Drew said, raising his eyebrows as he glanced into the camera.

“Gemini women. Yes.” Madelyn replied, giving Drew the first point. The rest of the cast booed playfully, Drew patting himself on the back as Madelyn’s turn continued. Once she asked her last question, it was Drew’s turn in the hot seat.

“Y/n has to wait to answer.” JD said, the cast turning to y/n, her mouth falling open.

“That is definitely not in the rules!” Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Now they are.” Rudy said with a shrug.

“Ok, what is my secret talent? Bonus, where did I learn my talent?” Drew read, looking over the question card at his co-stars until his eyes met y/n’s. She narrowed her eyes, trying to read into what Drew was going to write on the card, after all, he was a man of many talents.

“Sleeping.” Carlacia said.

“You play piano?” Austin guessed.

“See what’s happening is you're just giving me a lot of ideas.” Drew said, taking the cap off of his marker as he prepared to finalize his answer.

“Oh, write it down, I know it.” Y/n said waving her hand for him to write faster. Once he finished, Drew looked at her to answer.

“Juggling.” She answered, Drew flipping the card around to reveal his answer: juggling/insomnia.

“Question two: what’s my favorite food?” Drew grinned, writing his answer down quickly.

“Mama Jodi’s casserole!” The cast said in unison, Drew nodding as he flipped the card around.

“Almost burned down the apartment complex cooking that one time.” Chase pointed out, causing Drew to gasp.

“That was actually y/n’s fault.” Drew said, pointing a finger at y/n who scoffed.

“You were the one that was distracting me!” Y/n shot back, raising her hands in surrender as she thought of the memory. It had been Drew’s birthday and y/n had decided to surprise him with his favorite casserole. However, the two of them had gotten so entranced in an intense game of Mario Kart that she completely forgot about the food in the oven… until the smoke alarm went off.

“Fine, I will take some blame… only a little bit.” Drew cracked a smile as he shuffled onto the next card.

“Last question: who is my celebrity crush?” Drew scowled, biting his lip as he thought.

“Y/n y/ln.” Rudy said quickly. A small smirk spread across Drew’s lips as he hurriedly wrote his answer down, the rest of the cast hooting and hollering as y/n covered her face with her hands and a flush spread to her cheeks.

“Yeah, that’s correct…” Drew said bashfully, scratching his jaw. “I don’t think she likes me though, if I’m being honest.”

“Definitely not.” Madelyn teased, nudging y/n’s arm playfully.

The game continued, each member of the cast having their turn into their hot seat until it was finally y/n’s turn.

“Drew has to wait to answer.” Y/n said, pointing at Drew. His mouth fell open, his competitive nature kicking in as he groaned.

“The rules, Starkey.” Austin said, shaking his shoulder lightly as y/n picked up her first card.

“What is my favorite movie?” Y/n asked, pausing to think of her answer before writing it down.

“La La Land? The Lego Movie? Moulin Rouge?” Chase guessed, attempting to rattle off as many guesses as possible.

“Pitch Perfect!” Madison said with a giggle, to which y/n nodded.

“Yes, very big Pitch Perfect fan.” Y/n responded. The cast had many memories of watching (and performing) the movie during quarantine when all of them were confined to their shared apartment complex.

“Next question: what is my go-to karaoke song?” Y/n raised her eyebrows as she wrote her answer down on the card.

“Something Taylor Swift, yeah?” Madelyn asked.

“Surprisingly, no.” Y/n laughed. Drew and y/n had hosted many karaoke nights in their shared apartment, the entire cast fitting onto their sofa to sing and dance the night away. The two of them had even gone as far as buying a karaoke machine, complete with mics and lights. It was quite a hit.

“Oh my god, I know it—” Rudy said, snapping his fingers as he searched for the right answer.

“Alanis Morisette...” Drew whispered, to which y/n scowled at him.

“You Oughta Know!” Madelyn cheered, stealing Rudy’s answer with a giggle.

“Yep, that’s right… thank you, Drew.” Y/n said, quirking an eyebrow at Drew who just smiled back. Y/n shuffled her cards for a moment, drawing out the final question.

“Oh boy, last one...” Y/n said dramatically, the cast letting out a string of “ooohs” as y/n cleared her throat.

“What’s my on set snack?” Y/n read, quickly scribbling down her answer as her co-stars looked between each other. Drew sat there, a smug grin on his face as he watched their castmates struggle to answer the very simple question.

“I literally had the same snack every single day.” Y/n said, hoping to direct her co-stars in the right direction.

“I never had the same break time as you two, that’s not fair!” Carlacia said, turning to face Drew who simply shrugged.

“The answer was pickles.” Y/n said, turning the card around to reveal her answer.

“What kind? We need specifics.” JD asked, quirking his brow.

“Dill. The ones in the bag.” Drew answered for y/n, who simply nodded.

“And with that, we are the cast of Outer Banks…” Y/n led, gesturing to her friends opposite her.

“Thanks for watching!” The cast said in unison, waving to the camera.

[nanamiskentos]

UNADULTERATED LOATHING ! ☓. ── ( 五条 悟, gojo satoru )

⌗ dazzling starlet, bardot reincarnatе. well, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist ? you have an effect on gojo satoru, and he tells you that it's pure, unadulterated loathing. but why does his heart say otherwise?

ᯓ starring ─ ﹙ 五条 悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ the strongest x reader

𝓳𝓳𝓴. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 x afab!reader )  ─── ❛ cw ⌓. sfw. wicked!au. enemies to lovers, gojo is SO in love, mutual pining, this is just a one-shot, like a quick snippet. wc ⌓. 2k.

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ( author says ) i finally watched wicked and i was listening to olivia rodrigo's lacy

you push through the doors of your long awaited assigned dormitory, already dreaming of the quiet solitude that's ready for you. that blissful moment when you can drop your bags, sink into the comfort of your room, and finally crack open that hefty book in your bag.

but the moment that you step aside, that dream dies a swift and unceremonious death. this room is a disaster. a veritable storm of pale blue, navy, and stark white sprawls across every available surface that the eye can take in. clothes draped over chairs, video game casings cracked open at odd angles, and half-finished letters abandoned in precarious piles. there's even a pair of sunglasses littered on the floor, so very close to polished tips of your new boots.

you just inhale sharply, already bracing yourself for the worst as you round the heavy trunk that blocks your path. only to collide, at full, devastating force into a solid, broad chest.

a firm plane of muscle that belongs to none other than the golden boy, gojo satoru.

and god, how your head snaps up in horror. his ever-present sunglasses are pushed up to his white hair, exposing a pair of sharp and wary eyes. bright and assessing, and currently locked onto you as if your very presence is the final act of some awful cosmic joke.

for a long and weighty moment, neither of you speak. there's a realisation settling between the two of you like a stone dropped into deep water. the administration truly did not make a mistake, gojo satoru was your new roommate.

"do you really think this is fair?" you ask, voice a tad weaker than you had hoped.

gojo just exhales through his nose, as if he's suffering through tragedies untold, "i do not." but his voice is melodic, smooth, as he straightens his spine so the very uppermost tufts of his snowy hair brush the ceiling, "as i was promised a private suite. but thanks for asking."

your eyes fall back skywards, stepping past him to assess your new surrounding. manoeuvring carefully through this...mess. gojo, for his part, seems content to move aside and keep his distance. he's just watching you in the large, oaken vanity, fiddling with his already-perfect hair.

casual, far too casual. he's suspicious, you realise. which, considering your mutual dislike, is quite fair.

still, it seems as though he's eager to make a show of his generosity. gojo's leaning away from the mirror, "i saved you some space, by the way." gesturing a long limb towards the farthest, least appealing corner of the room, where a diminutive daybed sits awkwardly beside a tiny, lopsided table with exactly one draw. your eyes fall on gojo's own bed, a rather ornate and gilded piece with curtans. ugh, what a diva.

gojo somehow must be mistaking your stony grimace for gratitude, for he's smiling. all beatific and cherubic, as though he's a saint sent down from the heavens above, "it was nothing. roommates do these things for each other, after all."

your eyes meet jewel-blue, still watching as gojo basks in your silent outrage. he's stretching his arms out luxuriously, kicking up his own boots onto a plush, cornflower blue ottoman.

you're going to strangle gojo satoru in his sleep. but had you not turned away from the walking waste of oxygen, you might have noticed the sudden, red flush that plastered itself onto gojo's alabaster skin — crawling up his neck until it tickled at his ears.

the room is now steeped in candlelight, the soft glow of gojo's lamp casting a cool, blue hue over everything. shadows flicker along the walls, elongating the handsome angles of his face as he lounges at his desk, twirling a navy feather-quill between his fingers. the fine parchment before him still lays untouched, for his gaze keeps drifting to you.

you, curled up on your far end of the room on your bed, bathed in the tired amber glow of your own lamp. gojo just watches as you're lost in your own careful strokes of ink on dry parchment. and he hates to admit it, loathes to even bestow upon you this grace, but he's fascinated by the sight of you — the most brilliant (if odd) peer in this damn cohort.

you write the way people pray, head bowed and utterly absorbed as each word is something sacred. your lashes cast long shadows on your cheeks, and gojo just gnaws at the soft flesh in his own mouth. enraptured by the parting of your lips lost in thought.

gojo satoru has seen beautiful things before, no-one raised in the illustrious gojo clan hasn't, but this is something else. something he can't quite name, and he fears that he hates you for the hold you have over him.

"to whom it may concern at the ol' gojo clan. guess what?" gojo finally begins, scrawling the words onto his letters without much thought. pretending to make a big show of tapping his chin, kicking back against his bed.

but across the room, you're so, so adamant to barely acknowledge gojo. forgoing his desire for constant attention to be rather focused on your own letter to home, "my dear father. thank you for agreeting to let me stay."

gojo's exhaling dramatically, head lolling back onto his tired neck, "i can't hear your guesses because this is a letter. so i'll just tell you."

silence stretches between the two of you, filled only by the faint rustling of paper, and the distant sound of laughter from the courtyard below. gojo's fingers tap out a restless rhythm against the wood of his bedside table. you're still refusing to acknowledge him, still wrapped up in your letter, and gojo — who has spent his entire life commanding love and affection, expecting it, feels something like irritation curl in his chest. or maybe it's something else entirely.

he tries again, and unbeknownst to the lovestruck gojo, you're penning the exact same words on your own letters.

"there's been some confusion over rooming here at school."

you're suddenly glancing over at him, and gojo bites his heavy tongue at the flicker of exasperation flashing through your eyes. watching as you sigh, and shake your head, "but of course," you scrawl, "i'll focus on my studies."

gojo's lips twitch, "but of course, i'll rise above it."

it seems that neither of you are aware that you are both writing in tandem now, so very synchronised as gojo dips his quill lazily into that half-empty ink pot, "for i know that's how you'd want me to respond."

gojo watches from you from behind the rim of his sunglasses, shameless in his greed for the sight of you, and utterly fascinated. the delicate furrow of your brow, the way your fingers tap absently against the desk when you pause to think. he knows people. he understands them.

but you? you are a riddle wrapped in something unfairly lovely, a puzzle he isn't even sure he's able to solve, because maybe knowing would make the mystery less intoxicating. gojo briefly wonders why he feels as though he's about to hurl.

"yes, there's been some confusion, for you see, my roommate is..."

gojo pauses, contemplating, for how does one describe you? how does anyone categorise something so strangely, annoyingly captivating?

you are contradictions woven into the shape of a person. sharp and soft, cold and brilliant, distant but so alive. he wants to say infuriating or prickly or entirely too self-serious, but none of those words quite capture the way that gojo's world seems to tilt slightly whenever you shoot him that unimpressed look.

"unusually and exceedingly peculiar, and altogether quite impossible to describe."

but you? you have very little hesitation. your quill barely lingering before you hastily scribble away, "blonde."

scratching the quill against the cheap parchment in a single stroke, amending yourself, "or rather, silver-haired and silver-tongued. yet, all too lacking for wit or decency."

and so you gently blow on the drying ink, neatly creasing the letter as you do your best not to meet gojo satoru's eyes. isn't he just too much? too loud, too arrogant, too sure of himself?

gojo satoru walks into a room as though it belongs to him, like the air bends around him and gravity itself is an afterthought to the heir of the gojo clan.

and god, you hate the way that your eyes must betray you first, catching on the sharp lines of his jaw or the effortless sway of his posture. the way his silver-white hair falls perfectly, no matter how carelessly he runs a hand through it. you hate, truly loathe the way gojo tilts his head when he's pretending to listen, or the way pink lips curl when he's about to say something that will drive you absolutely nuts.

you tell yourself that you find him irritating, not intoxicating. that you're unmoved, not entranced. that you don't notice the absurd prettiness of the school's golden boy, that annoyingly, careless confidence and the way he seems to puncture the air out of your lungs.

gojo's snowy head jerks, as though he can hear your thoughts. eyes narrowing behind dark lenses as he folds his own letter and tucks it into the pocket of his uniform jacket. you just school your features, and shoot him a seething look as though you did not just spend the last five minutes memorising every single detail of his face.

it's just loathing. pure, unadulterated loathing.

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 22 - Han Sohee x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Your wife is so perfect, she’s alway the prettiest of any place where she’s, and also is so damn hot. You really love her and the many ways she can drive you crazy, but not only drive you crazy because she’s always attracting attention. But you don’t care about that because after all she’s your wife. She’s yours and you’re hers. 

“You know isn't fair for the rest of us mortals that you can even look prettier with makeup.” You hug her by the waist while she’s doing her makeup in front of the mirror.  

“I have to look good tonight, and you know it.”

“But you always look good, and you know it.” You softly kiss her shoulder.

“Yeah, I know it. But with a little bit more blush I look prettier.” 

“Oh, if that is the case I could do a thing or two that could make you really blush.” You whisper to her ear. 

“You wish, but we don’t have enough time.” Your wife says before putting more blush on her cheeks. “And even if we had, I'm not taking off my dress.”

“What if I do things without undressing you?” You whisper again in her ear but this time you're also groping her small but.

“You can try, but I still have to do my makeup.”

“I bet you're gonna get distracted from that very soon.”  You slowly lift her dress till the point you can get your hands under her clothes and start caressing her thighs. A shiver ran through Sohee’s body, but beside that she was still and continued doing her makeup totally unbothered. 

Your hands finally get to her ass and squeeze her cheeks cheeks with delicacy, again she does nothing so you decide go further on this little game. Your fingers trace the crack of her ass and find her pussy, so you start rubbing over her panties. 

“Is that all you can do?” She giggles. “I thought you said I was going to blush.”

“Don’t act cool, I know you like it.” Now your fingers are putting more pressure over her clothed pussy, and even when Sohee is trying to hide it you feel her moisture staining the panties. You can feel her pussy getting wet with your fingertips, you feel how that thin layer is forming. 

She’s a really good actress but you can see how under the make up her face is gaining that natural red color. You know you're doing good, but also know you can do it better. So you pull aside her panties gaining access to her wet folds, letting her pussy take air in the process. Maybe that's what makes her open her mouth, but In the last moment your wife manages to control herself and suppress what you’re sure was going to be a moan.

The only sign of pleasure she shows to you is opening her legs to give you better access to her private part, and of course you take that as a win. With that small battle finished you think it is time to make your next move, so you gently slide a finger inside her pussy. Her warm and wet walls welcome you so well, making your finger feel very comfortable inside her. That’s why you put a second finger inside Sohee’s cunt. 

When you slowly start pumping your finger inside her pussy, Sohee’s breath is already faster than normal. She can try all she wants but in the end she can’t hide the fact that she’s enjoying this.  But she still keeps doing her makeup, in fact she’s about to finish soon. You for your part are trying to make her finish in another way. 

Your finger goes fast inside her as your other hand holds one of her cheeks spreading her ass. Her panties are already so wet that it is obvious that they are ruined. Your only concern is that not even a single drop of her juices can reach the dress or you're gonna be a dead man, and in order to achieve that you need to make her cum soon.

Your hand let go her ass and hugging her, your finger finds her clit still covered by the thin fabric of the ruined panties. Now you're fingering her pussy from behind with one hand, and using the other to stimulate the delicate pleasure button that is her clit. 

Sohee can’t fake it anymore and drops the lipstick to grab the sides of the makeup vanity that is between her and the mirror. She’s holding her weight with both hands while you attack her pussy from two fronts. Now she lets go her moans and her breath is fogging up the mirror, you just smile admiring the result of what you’re doing while increasing the pace of your fingers. 

You pout your digits as deep as you can inside her pussy and then you take them almost completely out, just letting the fingertips inside. You do this countless times while more and more of her fluid is coating your hand. On a bold movement you put your thumb in her anus and press a little, using that finger as a pivotal point to gain more speed on the others. 

Sohee’s pussy is making wet noises that mix with her moans. Now she’s mouth open and closed eyes, heavily breathing while you finger fuck her. Her pussy feels so good, so welcoming that you wish your dick were inside her instead of your fingers, but you have to work with what you have. 

Remembering that you don’t have much time you pinch her clit and that sends Sohee to her climax. Her cunt throbs and squeezes your fingers, almost as if threatening to break them while the orgasm is sending jolts to her entire body. You feel how your hand is coated for more of her juices as she is still riding the orgasm.

Once she calms down you take out your fingers and the absence of your digits inside her pussy almost make her cum again, but she can hold it pressing her forehead on the mirror and regaining control of herself. 

“I told you you were going to blush” You say looking at her red cheeks. Sohee just start laughing at your words, still trying to breathe normally. 

[controld3vil]

invisible strings

pairing(s): dune 2 cast x actor!reader (platonic)

synopsis: requested/inspired by this ask!

⤷ alt: coincidences are strange. however, what's more strange was not knowing you were in previous works with your costars.

notes: this one is pretty short. reader is gender neutral. set in the same verse as popcorn bucket (♡´౪`♡)

Ding!

"Ah I don't think you guys are going to get this one," you puffed, eyes trailing down to the question on the Vanity Fair card. The cast and you were playing the Vanity Fair Game Show for a fun video. You all eventually filmed with one another at some time during production. Though your schedules were all over the place/locations, everyone got along with each other. That is to say, some like yourself had been in the first film and kept in contact for the sequel. "What was my first show audition?"

Mumbles in unison scurried. Some hums and thought-provoking nods were seen as you hurriedly scribbled down your answer in black ink.

"Oo Shake It Up!" Zendaya points out, eyes wide with her quick response.

Austin Butler who sat beside Florence Pugh raised his head, almost surprised. "Wait, really?" While the blonde actress knowingly glances back to you for confirmation. The rest of the cast was all too eager to know because clearly they had no idea.

"Yes, correct!" You raised your arms, doing jazz hands. In a burst of energy, the mixed actress scores a bright grin, raising her fist in the air in victory. Only for you to pump her fist back, smiling back.

"How were we supposed to know that?" Timothee Chalamet says, snickering accusatively at the camera as if they had an answer. His gaze moves towards you, "You never told us that!"

You shrugged your shoulders, looking half guilty. "You're lost, pal!"

"At least I got the point!" Zendaya puffs up her chest, swiping the invisible dust off her shoulders while Florence giggles. However Timothee looked almost offended even.

"Wait you were in Shake It Up?" Austin shakes his head in pure astonishment. You gave him a slow nod, as his expression grew wider, eyes staring at you in awe. "That's crazy! I didn't know that!"

"Was it a show?" Josh Brolin's comment seemingly pops in and all four of the younger cast including yourself snickered shortly. His cluelessness only substituted for better curiosity to you. As really, you never really told them about your previous works.

"It was a Disney show," Flipping the Vanity Fair card over, only to reveal your messy handwriting, you stated fondly. Timothee then hastily pointed at the small drawing you drew next to your answer. It breaks your concentration for a second as he only stares at it in confusion while Zendaya covers her mouth from giggling. "Like a sitcom really. And I played one of the background dancers." Even you couldn't stop yourself from giggling further, taking a look at your draw.

Truly it was one of those topics that are never mentioned around you. The only reason Zendaya had known was that you had told her once about it when discussing your dance careers. The both of you were young actors and did not expect to know each other back then and even now. Though it was a cute recollection to look back upon.

"Is that a stick figure waving his arms?" Florence cocks her head sideways, having a concentrated face.

"He's supposed to be dancing!" You plead, pointing at the way you drew his arms in the air.

"That is not dancing!" Timothee's smile only grew wider from laughing too much, having to lean forward to look at the little drawing closer. "He just looks- like he's discombobulated!"

"PFFTT!"

"I mean it's a cute drawing!"

"You know what- you don't appreciate my art," You gently placed the card on the floor, giving your costar the stink eye. "I thought this was a fun game, you guys! People are being bullied for no reason!"

"No- I'm not saying your drawings are bad!" The French actor stumbles, in beats of laughter, clenching his cards to his chest. You only swat his presence away before grabbing another question.

In another instance, Austin takes his turn. For a few rounds, he asked about his hobbies, such as what instruments he knew to play. It was quick flashed answers, one by one you managed to pass through flying colors.

"Guitar and piano," Austin bobs his head, as the rest of cast suddenly became enamored at his musical skills.

"Hey!"

"Alright!"

"But also violin," He says sheerly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh okay!" Florence drags out an amused hum, in a teasing manner.

"Is that true?" Timothee quirks his brow, having one leg over another, looking all composed.

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's go Disney Channel kids!" You chanted, with the mixed actress a seat away from you joined with as well. You both raised your hands in victory while Austin looked away and blushed.

"We got all the talent!"

At the CCXP Panel in Brazil, fans from all over came to attend to fantastic event. Hosted by Collider Interview, it was a massive event with an enormous stadium, fit for a band performance. There were arrays of lights, standing from the alleyways and above the ceiling. You felt extremely fortunate to have attended and made it to Brazil, for being such a joyful experience.

This time you alongside your young cast members and director, Denise Villeneuve, posed happily with all of you. The panel followed with many turns and twists, with questions coming from the crowd and host alike. One moment fans caught on was your reaction to something that Florence at said.

The Collider host mentioned Florence's history of working with Timothee on Little Women which made both of them cackle, reminiscing those dotting moments.

"Oh you know what," the British actress starts, holding her hand up. The audience was silenced, wondering what she going to mention next. She slowly turns in your direction and points. "I just remembered this, but you were in Midsommar yes?"

"Yes..." You mumbled, ending your answer on a high note, unsure really what she meant. Until it came flashing back to you, much prevalent to your shocked expression. "Oh yes yes!" And seemingly the rest of the cast and fans were roaring in surprise and in cheer.

Though you weren't present in most of the film's production, Florence had fond memories of Midsommar. You were one of the minor characters doomed to death in the first half. Both of your characters had a brief meeting together and that was all. However, it surprised you how Florence was able to recall it all. You had only filmed for a few days and vaguely met her casually.

"This is so weird but I don't know- I just kept forgetting to bring it up," She scrambles to find the right words, throwing gestures back and forth. "But for some reason, I just remembered you being there and then I was like- huh! We were in Midsommar together!"

"Right!" You lowered your tone, the weight on your heels slowly shifting to one side. As you licked your lips at the revelation. "I can't believe we just realized this now!" And you could discern the pure chaos the rest of your costars were feeling. Timothee was wheezing, desperately holding his mic for support. While Zendaya crossed her arms in a mixture of sarcasm and odd mischievousness. As if saying, Really? You guys never realized?! Austin on the other hand, solely was observing from the sidelines, with an amused smile. And all for Denny to be panned to the right with a funny disapproving look on his face.

"This is what I have to deal with," Your director somberly states and the crowd cries out in cackles.

"I don't think we were in anything together before."

No interview or video was being shot. Surprisingly it was lunchtime and a grace period for cast and production alike to go back to their trailers to rest. You did not want to go back to your own trailer so instead followed your costar to his. Knowing he had a better air conditioner and wanted to catch up on anything new you guys enjoyed talking about.

But more importantly, his air conditioner.

"Yeah, I don't think we did," Arms securely behind your head as you leaned back on the couch. You still were in full costume, in Fremen wear however it did not stop you from lounging around in every corner of the set sites. "Does Dune count?"

A light-hearted scoff escapes from Timothee, who is on his phone on the other side of the couch, in costume as well. The air conditioner was blasting heavily on all sides of the trailer yet you two did not mind the loud background noise. "No, it doesn't!"

"That's crazy right?" Lifting yourself up to look at him. His eyes don't leave his phone screen yet you know he is focused on your words. "I'm genuinely surprised we haven't played siblings,"

"We look nothing alike!" He shouts, finally lifting his gaze to your playful one. Suddenly you see his phone flash turned on as it faces you. "So, what do you think of Dune Part Two so far?"

You get up swiftly, stretching out of your tired limbs in the process. "Like a walk on the sand!"

"Aye!" He fist-bumps you as he turns the camera on him, face not covered in any gear. The audience can notice his messy locks and smudged face.

"Directors, sign us up to play something!" You waved before adjusting to put on your mask. The camera swerves to find you clipping on the clasps. A couple clicks can be heard as you move the gear up and down from your face. "Literally anything! I could play his serial killer and I would be happy."

"What-" Timothee almost choked on air, prominent to how shaky the camera view became. Though he quickly recovered, "Why do you always want to kill me in these scenarios?"

"Because it's much more fun!" You whine, shoulders deflating, as you can feel him zooming in on your expression.

[genericpuff]

i find it funny that one of rachel’s drawings of herself in the afterword that just went up is just fully persephone. is that something she does a lot?

Alright so I've been making it a general rule for myself to like, not harp on Rachel in any way outside of LO as much because frankly the horse is dead now and there's not much left to say outside of what can be analyzed in hindsight. I think despite everything I have to say about her and her work, she still deserves to get away from this nonsense and I don't wanna spend eternity hovering over her shoulder.

But the afterword was posted within the LO series and is clearly meant for readers of LO in the functioning of being an afterword so let's just call it fair game LOL

I will say, on the whole, it does feel very honest and sentimental and I can respect Rachel for taking the time to write out and illustrate her afterword in a way that was personal to both her and her fans. I can understand why she went at it from the angle that she did and I'm not gonna fault her for that.

But there's also something that feels deeply... disingenuous about her approach right from the starting gun. I will say, before I continue, that I'm well aware I am biased towards Rachel as a creator, and I fully acknowledge that I could very well be reading too much into things. This is just my opinion, take it with mountains of salt.

I can get looking back on your own childhood, your past self, whatever, and going "see! it all got better!" because sure! For a lot of creators like Rachel, it must be wild to look back on where they came from and there's a lot of sentimentality on expressing that through an afterword like this where she reflects on where she came from. Though she STILL didn't acknowledge her other comics outside of LO, I can understand if she wants to leave those skeletons in the closet.

But I feel like her drawing herself as a child who's being given an Eisner by her adult self and all that just feels like some gross attempt to disarm any criticism of her because "don't make fun of me, I'm just a sad lonely baby girl!"

She's not a child. Child Rachel didn't grossly misappropriate Greek myth into their own self-indulged vanity project. Child Rachel didn't claim herself a folklorist of a culture's works only to bastardize them completely. Child Rachel didn't create a hostile environment within her fanbase by bullying anyone who she perceived as a threat, sneaking into critical spaces to try and cause trouble, and writing her own clapbacks into her comic. Child Rachel didn't claim to be challenging misogyny and purity culture only to reinforce misogyny and purity culture through her own self-insert baby-virgin-gets-rescued-by-rich-tycoon power fantasy that regularly glorified abuse towards women and the lower class.

30-almost-40-year-old Rachel did though.

At best it comes across as really cringe sentimentality from a Greek-weeb (heh, greeboo) and goes to show how much Rachel inserted herself into Greek myth without ever absorbing its messages or cultural contexts, it was all about her and her feelings as a sad New Zealand girl with dyslexia who thought Persephone's story was about another sad girl being rescued from her "horrible childhood".

At worst it's an active attempt to play on people's heartstrings by drawing herself as a child who people will naturally not want to criticize. I don't want to assume she's doing it intentionally, I really don't want to leave her afterword on a bad foot, as I can definitely understand as both a creator and a person who struggled with learning disabilities in their own childhood how and why she wants to pay homage to her past and where she came from... but let's just say, as someone who's also gotten way too "lost in the sauce" concerning personal self-reflective projects, I think there's a lot to say about how this confirms that Rachel made LO entirely for herself, about herself, without any actual intention to respect the original myths, because she never truly separated them from herself when she was a child. And, in my humble opinion as someone who has Been There with the self-insert OC's and self-reflective angsty plotlines, I can fully attest to the fact that that's not fucking healthy. Even with personal projects, you NEED to learn to get your head out of the sauce, you NEED to learn to objectively separate yourself from the narrative so the story doesn't fall apart under your own hubris and ego, you NEED to learn to draw a line if you want to have any sort of identity as a human being outside of what you make for people. And that's with just normal original stories, this was a story based on Greek myth which doesn't belong to her.

And this goes for a lot of the things she's said and done in the past, so much of her own "sources" even are tethered to things that she read / watched in her childhood and only vaguely remembers, as if she never mentally left her childhood at all, which just... if the point was to highlight her past and the traumas she went through and how they contributed to her present, an Eisner isn't going to validate those experiences. And drawing attention to her past through the lens of her childhood self absolutely 100% does not absolve her of the negative effect her work has had on the modern Greek myth zeitgeist nor the things she's said and done as a 38 year old woman who should absolutely know better.

The community she entered and took from will forever remain changed by her influence and taking, in many ways not for the better. She has the privilege of walking away and never having to think about it again, with all the awards and accolades that were bought for her, the bravado that she built around being a "folklorist" with zero credentials, and the platform she was given over many other creators struggling to even be heard.

That "place" she claims to have now was built entirely on inserting herself into another culture's works and doing nothing but taking, taking, taking, while offering nothing in return but vanity and lip service. That "place" was paid for and brought to you by Webtoons.

[kathlare]

unfinished business

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie finds herself confiding in Gracie Abrams backstage about an unexpected encounter with Lando Norris at a recent party.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

August 7th, 2024 - Los Angeles, CA

Amelie sat on the leather couch in Gracie Abrams’ dressing room, the lights from the vanity mirror casting a soft glow on her features. She looked exhausted but content, having just finished a grueling leg of her Emails I Can't Send tour in Asia. It felt surreal to be back in Los Angeles, where the bustling energy of the city mixed with the excitement of Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour. Amelie was opening for Taylor later this month in Mexico, but for now, she had a bit of time to herself before the madness started again.

Gracie sat beside her, adjusting her stage outfit in front of the mirror. Gracie had been kind enough to let Amelie hang out in her dressing room before her own set, and it was a relief for Amelie to finally have someone to talk to.

—So, I ran into Lando again,— Amelie muttered, her voice laced with frustration.

Gracie’s head snapped up from the mirror, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. She already knew about Lando—the history between them was no secret. From their days playing video games in 2020, to their short but intense relationship in 2021, Gracie had heard it all. She knew how much Amelie tried to move on, but no matter how hard she tried, Lando’s presence lingered in the back of her mind.

—No way, where?!— Gracie leaned in, her eyes wide with excitement. —Spill, I need details.—

Amelie took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. —It was at Penelope's birthday party in Monaco, just a couple of weeks ago. Honestly, I didn’t even know if I was ready to see him again, but there he was.— She paused, her frustration bubbling to the surface. —And he looked... he looked so damn good. Like, it’s not even fair. How does he do it?—

Gracie smirked, her lips curving into a mischievous smile as she turned fully to face Amelie. —Okay, but did he say anything? Or was it one of those 'awkward glance across the room while the sexual tension suffocates everyone else' kind of moments?—

Amelie let out a dry laugh, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. —Oh, he said something, all right. He came over to say hi like nothing had ever happened between us, all casual and charming. He even asked how I’ve been, like he genuinely gave a shit.— She groaned, covering her face with her hands for a moment before looking at Gracie again. —And then, as if the universe wanted to mess with me even more, he was just... nice. He didn’t try to flirt or make things weird. He was just... Lando.—

Gracie leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. —And that’s what gets to you, isn’t it? That he can just be so fucking effortless while you’re sitting here overthinking everything. Classic guy move.—

—Exactly!— Amelie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. —It’s like, how dare you show up looking like that and being all calm and composed when we have so much... history. I was ready to ignore him all night, you know? I had a plan. But then he had to go and smile at me, and suddenly I couldn’t even remember why I was mad in the first place.—

Gracie gave her a sympathetic smile, scooting closer to Amelie on the couch. —It’s because you’re not really over him. And before you start with the 'I don’t love him anymore' speech, I get it. You don’t have to be in love with someone to still feel... something. Especially when things ended the way they did.—

Amelie sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. —I don’t even know if it’s him I miss, or just... what we had. It was so easy with him at first. He made me laugh when I thought I’d never feel happy again. And for a while, it felt like he was the only person who really saw me, you know? Not Amelie the actress or the singer. Just me.—

Gracie reached out and squeezed Amelie’s hand. —I get that. But if he made you feel that way, why did it go so wrong? What’s stopping you from... trying again?—

Amelie hesitated, biting her lip as she considered the question. —Because he hurt me, Gracie. He made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like my career and my life were too much for him to handle. And I know I wasn’t perfect either—I was busy, distracted, and maybe not as present as I should’ve been. But he started talking to someone else while we were still figuring things out, and that broke me. I don’t think I’ve forgiven him for that.—

Gracie’s face softened, her usual playful demeanor replaced with genuine concern. —That’s valid, Am. What he did was shitty, and you’re allowed to still be angry about it. But... do you think he regrets it? Do you think he’s changed?—

Amelie shrugged, picking at the hem of her oversized sweatshirt. —I don’t know. Maybe. He seemed different at the party, like he’s grown up a bit. But I’m scared, Gracie. What if I let him back in, and he does it again? Or worse, what if I’m just some lingering crush he can’t let go of, and it doesn’t mean as much to him as it does to me?—

Gracie leaned back, crossing her arms as she thought. —You’re overthinking it. But honestly, if you still feel this strongly about him—even after everything—you owe it to yourself to figure out what that means. Whether that’s telling him how you feel or deciding to truly let it go, you can’t keep living in this limbo. It’s not fair to you, and it’s definitely not fair to whoever comes next in your life.—

Amelie nodded slowly, her fingers drumming against her knee. —I just... I don’t want to look weak, you know? Like, if I even hint at wanting him back, he’ll think he has all the power. And I can’t be that girl, Gracie. Not again.—

Gracie gave her a firm look. —Wanting someone back doesn’t make you weak, Ames. It makes you human. But if you’re going to do it, you have to do it on your terms. You set the boundaries, you call the shots. And if he’s serious about you, he’ll respect that. If not, then fuck him. You’ll know you tried.—

Amelie let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. —I hate that you’re making sense right now. It’s so annoying.—

Gracie grinned, leaning over to bump her shoulder against Amelie’s. —That’s what I’m here for. To annoy you with good advice and remind you that you’re a badass who deserves someone who’s all in. Whether that’s Lando or not, only you can decide.—

The room fell silent for a moment, the distant hum of the concert venue filling the space. Amelie stared at the floor, her mind racing with memories and emotions she thought she’d buried long ago.

—Do you think he still cares?— she asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Gracie hesitated before answering, her voice gentle. —I think... if he looked at you the way you’re describing, then yeah. He cares. But the real question is, does he care enough to make it right?—

Amelie didn’t respond, her thoughts too tangled to put into words. All she knew was that seeing Lando again had stirred something in her, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront.

But maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop running from it.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What happened to up the divorce watch? What did I miss?!

Nothing concrete - it's just vibes.

The LA fire charity papwalk was on January 10th. Today is February 21st - that's 6 weeks, to the day. And during these 6 weeks, there was:

The disaster tourism papwalk (Jan 10th) with instantaneous criticism

Delaying her show (the announcement was on Jan 12th)

Clapping back at the criticism from the disaster papwalk (releasing additional footage, saying other celebs were there too, doing a second disaster tourism papwalk to give her donations away)

Rumors about reshooting and reediting the show to clap back at criticism

Vanity Fair

Friends promoting them in magazine interviews

Clapping back at Vanity Fair

The Sussex 2023 Christmas card photo getting leaked which also has the best, clearest look at Lili's face since 2022 (which also led to more accusations/controversy about photoshopping the kids)

The manic Billie Eilish swag video

Way over-the-top PDA from Invictus Games

Leaving Invictus Games early and making a fuss about leaving early

Way over-the-top Valentine's Day post (which makes me think she left Invictus early to be able to post that photo and message)

the Valentine's video making breakfast with the kids

The kids being part of her social media now

The re-re-re-rebranding

Another manic confessional video

Gossip that Charles is butthurt Harry's Birmingham Invictus will overshadow Camilla's 80th birthday and Harry doesn't care

Outcry/criticism about the re-re-re-rebrand

Accusations of plagiarizing her logo/insignia

Accusations of stealing the copyright of the company name

The mood board that has old photos from her old, defunct Instagram, internet fan art, and kid crafts, which is being interpreted as a clapback to criticism about the re-re-re-re-rebrand

Again...it's only been 6 weeks. This is a lot of stuff going down...a press tsunami-like amount of stuff going down, some might say.

While Meghan doesn't have the scale of attention and fame that she did back in 2017 - 2018 when the press tsunami of Fall 2018* was hitting her at all sides from all sides at all times, she still has a kind of notoriety that gets her a lot of attention and she has enough...staying power, I guess, if you will, that the volume of criticism can overwhelm her, the same way it did back in 2018.

Think of it like a wave pool. Everything Meghan does makes waves but every once in while, a big wave comes along that knocks everyone down. It's not a press tsunami because it's not coming at her from all sides at all sides at all times, but there's enough being thrown at her in repetitive succession that she can't handle it. And not only does she have difficulty handling all this criticism herself, she doesn't have the kind power to compel others to defend her the way she did back in 2018 - so she truly is handling her own defense.

And when Meghan has to defend herself, her MO to escalate her activities to distract us from other stuff that's happening. So the more she posts on social media, the more these confessional-style videos come out, the more it feels like she's trying to keep us further away.

So for me right now, it feels like a lot of distraction. Her behavior is more over the top than we've seen recently. She's featuring the kids on her social media, which should raise flags given how intensely protective they are of the kids' privacy. She and Harry have always been overly-PDA, far more than most celeb couples are, but kissing and hugging and being overly touchy the way they were at the Invictus opening ceremony feels like an overreaction to deflect 3 months of divorce rumors.

Now granted, it has been 8 years since Meghan was on social media and - speaking only for myself - I didn't follow her and I didn't give her any attention back then so I don't know if the way she is in these videos now (i.e., manic, hyperactive, fidgety) is how she was 10 years ago. This may very well be her normal and if that's the case, then with time I'll probably downgrade it back to Level 2.

But this behavior from Meghan is not how she's been acting since 2017 - she's usually more composed, more practiced, more in control of herself - which makes me wonder that there's something else going on. In my experience, when someone has such a huge personality difference like this, they're overcompensating and they're hiding something.

Again, let me remind you: I don't know if this is how Meghan was before the BRF pulled her into their orbit. I'm just saying that this version of her, this character (if you will) is different in a smoke, shadows, distraction kind of way because there's way more at stake now than there was back in 2018.

So for me that means upping the stakes on Divorce Watch for now.

*Criticism for pregnancy announcement at Eugenie's wedding, overshadowing the Aussie tour with relationship PR and all the missteps/snafus in her behavior/attitude, getting booted from KP, getting booted from the Royal Foundation, she made Kate cry, the staff leaving one after the other after the other, start of bullying allegations, Angela Kelly, tasting egg

[radiodormouse]

Tries to Cook and Eat Girl (old art based on this passage from American Psycho)

Dawn. Sometime in November. Unable to sleep, writhing on my futon, still in a suit, my head feeling like someone has lit a bonfire on it, in it, a constant searing pain that keeps both eyes open, utterly helpless. There are no drugs, no food, no liquor that can appease the forcefulness of this greedy pain; all my muscles are stiff, all my nerves burning, on fire. I'm taking Sontinex by the hour since I've run out of Dalmane, but nothing really helps and soon even the box of Sominex is empty. Things are lying in the corner of my bedroom: a pair of girl's shoes from Edward Susan Bennis Allen, a hand with the thumb and forefinger missing, the new issue of Vanity Fair splashed with someone's blood, a cummerbund drenched with gore, and from the kitchen wafting into the bedroom is the fresh smell of blood cooking, and when I stumble up out of bed into the living room, the walls are breathing, the stench of decay smothers everything. I light a cigar, hoping the smoke will mask at least some of it.

Her br**sts have been chopped off and they look blue and deflated, the ni**les a disconcerting shade of brown. Surrounded by dried black blood, they lie, rather delicately, on a china plate I bought at the Pottery Barn on top of the Wurlitzer jukebox in the corner, though I don't remember doing this. I have also shaved all the skin and most of the muscle off her face so that it resembles a skull with a long, flowing mane of blond hair falling from it, which is connected to a full, cold corpse; its eyes are open, the actual eyeballs hanging out of their sockets by their stalks. Most of her chest is indistinguishable from her neck, which looks like ground-up meat, her stomach resembles the eggplant and goat cheese lasagna at Il Marlibro or some other kind of dog food, the dominant colors red and white and brown. A few of her intestines are smeared across one wall and others are mashed up into balls that lie strewn across the glasstop coffee table like long blue snakes, mutant worms. The patches of skin left on her body are blue-gray, the color of tinfoil. Her vagina has discharged a brownish syrupy fluid that smells like a sick animal, as if that rat had been forced back up in there, had been digested or something.

I spend the next fifteen minutes beside myself, pulling out a bluish rope of intestine, most of it still connected to the body, and shoving it into my mouth, choking on it, and it feels moist in my mouth and it's filled with some kind of paste which smells bad. After an hour of digging, I detach her spinal cord and decide to Federal Express the thing without cleaning it, wrapped in tissue, under a different name, to Leona Helmsley. I want to drink this girl's blood as if it were champagne and I plunge my face deep into what's left of her stomach, scratching my chomping jaw on a broken rib. The huge new television set is on in one of the rooms, first blaring out The Patty Winters Show, whose topic today is Human Dairies, then a game show, Wheel of Fortune, and the applause coming from the studio audience sounds like static each time a new letter is turned. I'm loosening the tie I'm still wearing with a blood-soaked hand, breathing in deeply. This is my reality. Everything outside of this is like some movie I once saw.

In the kitchen I try to make meat loaf out of the girl but it becomes too frustrating a task and instead I spend the afternoon smearing her meat all over the walls, chewing on strips of skin I ripped from her body, then I rest by watching a tape of last week's new CBS sitcom, Murphy Brown. After that and a large glass of J&B I'm back in the kitchen. The head in the microwave is now completely black and hairless and I place it in a tin pot on the stove in an attempt to boil any remaining flesh I forgot to shave off. Heaving the rest of her body into a garbage bag - my muscles, slathered with Ben-Gay, easily handling the dead weight - I decide to use whatever is left of her for a sausage of some kind.

A Richard Marx CD plays on the stereo, a bag from Zabar's loaded with sourdough onion bagels and spices sits on the kitchen table while I grind bone and fat and flesh into patties, and though it does sporadically penetrate how unacceptable some of what I'm doing actually is, I just remind myself that this thing, this girl, this meat, is nothing, is shit, and along with a Xanax (which I am now taking half-hourly) this thought momentarily calms me and then I'm humming, humming the theme to a show I watched often as a child - The Jetsons? The Banana Splits? Scooby Doo? Sigmund and the Sea Monsters? I'm remembering the song, the melody, even the key it was sung in, but not the show. Was it Lidsville? Was it H. R. Pufnstuf? These questions are punctuated by other questions, as diverse as "Will I ever do time?" and "Did this girl have a trusting heart?" The smell of meat and blood clouds up the condo until I don't notice it anymore. And later my macabre joy sours and I'm weeping for myself, unable to find solace in any of this, crying out, sobbing "I just want to be loved," cursing the earth and everything I have been taught: principles, distinctions, choices, morals, compromises, knowledge, unity, prayer - all of it was wrong, without any final purpose. All it came down to was: die or adapt. I imagine my own vacant face, the disembodied voice coming from its mouth: These are terrible times. Maggots already writhe across the human sausage, the drool pouring from my lips dribbles over them, and still I can't tell if I'm cooking any of this correctly, because I'm crying too hard and I have never really cooked anything before.

[mxcottonsocks]

Reading Like A Victorian

A while ago, I discovered the website 'Reading Like a Victorian', a digital humanities project from The Ohio State University and collaborators.

Since tumblr's been going through a bit of a serial-literature revival, I thought I would share...

Here are some extracts from the website's 'About Us':

RLV is an interactive timeline of the Victorian period. It focuses on serialized novels [...] and adds volume-format publications for context. 

When we read Victorian novels today, we do not read them in the form in which they originally came out. Most Victorian novels appeared either as “triple deckers,” three volumes released at one time, or as serials published monthly or weekly in periodicals or in pamphlet form. Serialized novels’ regularly timed, intermittent appearance made for a reading experience resembling what we do when we are awaiting the next weekly episode of Game of Thrones, watching installments of other TV serials in the meantime. Whenever we pick up a Penguin or Oxford paperback of a Victorian novel today, we are engaged in the equivalent of binge-watching a series that has already reached its broadcast ending [and is] a very different experience from what Victorian audiences were doing with novels. Reading Like a Victorian reproduces the “serial moment” experienced by Victorian readers [...]

More info and screenshots and so on below the cut:

[...] if reading serial installments at their original pace is valuable, it is even more valuable to read them alongside parts of novels and of other kinds of texts that Victorian readers could have been following at the same time [...] [...] a reader who, in 1847, had been following the part issues of both Dickens’s Dombey and Son and Thackeray’s Vanity Fair and then picked up Jane Eyre, published in volume form in October of that year, might notice in Florence Dombey, Becky Sharp, and Jane Eyre a pattern of motherless or orphaned girls trying to negotiate a hostile world on their own. While this figure is well known to be a character type in Victorian fiction perfectly embodied by Jane Eyre and Florence Dombey, Becky Sharp does not often emerge among the heroines who fit that type; reading the novels simultaneously foregrounds parallels between Becky, Florence, and Jane that are not at all obvious if their storylines are experienced separately

I find that, for browsing, the website is easier to use on a computer or tablet than a phone, but it's ok on phone to search for something specific.

The timeline:

Here's what the timeline looks like:

It shows 12 months at a time, and using the left and right arrows will move you back or forward by a month. You can use the 'Jump To Date' function to navigate to a different twelve-month period. Or you can use the 'Author Search' function to navigate to particular works if you know the author's name.

In the above screenshot of the timeline, which shows the period January to December 1852, there are several works shown, including:

ongoing serialised works which had at least one installment published prior to 1852;

works which began serialisation during 1852;

works published in three-volume format during 1852;

other works published during 1852

Details about each work:

You can click on the bar that represents a book's publication to get a drop-down that provides information about that book, its publication, and links to help you read the relevant serial parts.

Here's what happens if you click on Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford:

On the left of the drop-down, there's some general information about the work, its publication history, and how to use the links.

On the right, there's information and links to help you experience the book in its serial parts: it separates out the parts, indicates the month and the year they were published, and what chapters of the work were published in that part. It also provides notes on each part where helpful. There is a scroll-bar at the right of the drop-down, so you can scroll down to the later installments of the work.

[I chose Cranford as an example as it helps demonstrate the value of the Reading Like a Victorian website... From what I understand, Gaskell initially wrote 'Our Society at Cranford' as a standalone piece of short fiction, but was encouraged to write more, so further pieces also set in the fictional town of Cranford were published intermittently in the same magazine over the next year or so. While a particularly dedicated Gaskell fan who wanted to 'read along' with Cranford following the original publication could probably search 1.5-years-worth of a weekly magazine to find the 9 issues which included the material which would later be published as Cranford, the Reading Like a Victorian website has already done that work for them... and also for anyone else who might be interested, but not quite that interested.]

The links

You can then click on an individual chapter to get links to various places to read it online:

When available / where possible, the website tends to include links to:

a facsimile copy of either the relevant serial part in the original publication, or in an 'annual' or similar volume collecting together the content of that publication, or a volume-form edition of that work if the work was not published serially or if facsimile copies of the original serialised publication are not available. [Most of the facsimiles are hosted by either the Internet Archive or the Hathi Trust Digital Library, but some are hosted as part of smaller, more specific collections, such as - in the case of Cranford - Dickens Journals Online which provides online access to the journals/magazines edited by Charles Dickens);

the text, usually on Project Gutenberg (this is usually the volume-form text, so the exact content and chapter breaks and so on may be different than originally published in serial parts; the Reading Like A Victorian website will generally explain when this is the case);

audio recordings, usually volunteer recordings from Librivox (again, the recordings are usually based on the volume-form text, so the exact content and chapter breaks and so on may be slightly different than originally published in the serial parts).

So yeah, I just thought it was a cool website and worth sharing. I believe the website is already used as a resource by some University courses and for academic research, but it can also be used by book clubs and to aid personal reading, etc. I'm using it to inform a personal reading project for 2024-26 where I follow along with six or seven novels serialised in 1864-66.

To save a scroll to the top, here's the link to the RLV website again: Reading Like A Victorian (osu.edu)

[If you want to join an already-planned read-along based on the original serialisation schedule, @dickensdaily will be doing Charles Dickens's historical novel Barnaby Rudge: A Tale of the Riots of 'Eighty from mid-February 2024 to late-November 2024, to follow along with the original weekly publication of the novel in Master Humphreys Clock from February 1841 to November 1841. I personally found Barnaby Rudge a really engaging, thought-provoking read, and I'm really looking forward to reading it again. (Anyone with particular triggers or other reasons to be wary of the content or language used in older books may find it helpful to look up content warnings for the book before making a decision to read it.)]

[velarisdusk]

The Crown's Command

Day 14: Boot Worship | Eris x Reader word count: 1.5k author's note: LISTEN. evil high lord eris is.... whew ! im not saying i LIKE it. however i am also not saying i HATE it. what i AM saying is that i love it and i would let him do whatever i am not ashamed ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

He was every bit the tyrant his father had been — perhaps worse.

You had known this when you approached the Autumn Court’s throne with your grievances, but knowing and experiencing it were two different things. Eris Vanserra lounged on his throne, his posture deceptively casual, though his eyes burned with all the fury and cruelty of the High Lord he now was. The court was teeming today, filled with nobles, advisors, and petitioners, all eyes heavy with judgment as they watched the exchange unfold.

“I’m not asking for your approval, High Lord,” you spat, your heart hammering in your chest. “I’m asking for fairness.”

Eris’s lips curled into a smile, though there was no warmth in it, only sharp edges. “Fairness?” His voice was a slow, dangerous drawl. “You dare speak to me of fairness. What is unfair is having ungrateful citizens unable to grasp their rightful place.” His amber eyes narrowed as he surveyed you, the weight of his disdain pressing down like a physical force.

You opened your mouth to argue again, but a single flick of his wrist silenced you. The guards stationed at either side of the room moved before you even had time to process the order, their hands clamping around your arms with brutal strength. 

“Bring her up here,” Eris commanded, his voice calm and unhurried as if this were all some game. “Let her make her case from her knees.”

The guards dragged you up the dais toward him, the strength of their grip biting into your skin as you were forced down in front of him, right at the base of the throne. You could feel the eyes of the court on you — dozens of them, silently watching, waiting to see what Eris would do next. Your cheeks burned with a mixture of rage and humiliation as you were shoved onto your knees, the cool stone beneath you a stark contrast to the fire that lit Eris’s gaze.

He stretched out one leg, his polished boot catching the light as he planted it firmly in front of you. “Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate your… respect for your High Lord. Right here. In front of everyone.”

Your blood ran cold as his words echoed through the chamber. “What?” you breathed your voice barely above a whisper. 

Eris leaned forward slightly, the smugness radiating off of him. “Worship. My boots.” His words were quiet but sharp enough to cut through the murmur of the crowd. “Or you will have no place in this court — my court.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am,” he said smoothly, his lips curling into a smirk that made your skin crawl. “I won’t repeat myself. Kneel lower, and show me the respect I’m due.”

A ripple of quiet laughter spread through those assembled, their amusement clear as they watched you hesitate, their eyes filled with cruel delight. Eris’s boot gleamed before you, the leather polished to perfection, a reflection of his vanity and power. You glanced up at him, your stomach churning with the weight of the humiliation he was forcing upon you, but the look in his eyes was clear: defy him, and there would be consequences far worse than public shame. 

Your throat tightened, rage boiling just beneath your skin. But you were not foolish enough to cross him here, not with the entire court watching. Slowly, painfully, you lowered your head until your lips were just inches from the dark leather of his boot.

“There’s a good girl,” Eris murmured, just loud enough for only you to hear. “Go on, you can kiss it.”

You hesitated, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you fought to keep your pride intact. But pride was a luxury you could not afford right now, not when his gaze was so predatory, so eager to see you break. Slowly, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against the cool leather, and a wave of shame crashed through you. 

Eris hummed in approval, his hand resting casually on the arm of his throne as he watched you. “I said worship, not just kiss,” he corrected you, his tone deceptively soft. “Get on your hands and knees. I want to see you work for it.”

The laughter in the room grew louder, though Eris never took his eyes off you. You felt the weight of the crowd’s judgment, their sneering amusement, but none of it compared to the dark satisfaction that shone in Eris’s gaze as he waited for you to comply. 

Your hands trembled as you lowered yourself further, pressing your palms to the marble floor, your body now fully prostrate before him. Every fiber of your being screamed in protest, but you pressed your lips against the toe of his boot once more, this time lingering longer, kissing up the length of it. 

“That’s it,” he purred, leaning back on his throne as if settling in to enjoy a performance crafted just for him. “Let everyone see how eager you are to please your High Lord.”

You gritted your teeth but obeyed, pressing more kisses along the edge of his boot, feeling the leather beneath your lips as if it were a brand marking you with his authority. Every kiss was a reminder of the power he held over you, a reminder that in this court, Eris was absolute. 

“Look at you,” Eris mused, his tone rich with smug satisfaction. “All that defiance, all that fire… and yet, here you are, on your knees, kissing my boots like the obedient little subject you are.”

Your lips hovered near the heel, each breath shallow. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, not with the way your pride had been shattered into a thousand pieces. But then his voice came again, sharp and commanding: “Say it.”

You swallowed hard, barely managing to speak. “Say what?”

“Say you’re grateful for the honor I’ve given you,” Eris drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “Say it loud enough for my court to hear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to push the humiliation away as you forced the words from your lips. “I… I’m grateful, my lord.”

“Grateful for what?” His boot pressed lightly against your shoulder, urging you down even further, though it was hardly possible. 

Your breath trembled, the heat of his gaze suffocating as you tried to steady yourself. “I’m grateful for the honor of worshiping your boots, my lord.”

Eris smirked, but his boot didn’t move. “Mmm, not quite convincing enough. I don’t think you’re really grateful yet.” He nudged his boot forward, the gleaming leather catching the light. “Perhaps you should lick that spot clean, it’s a bit…” His voice was casual, as though it was a simple request, but the edge of cruelty was unmistakable. 

You blinked, your eyes darting to the boot. It was spotless, the leather shining from a recent polish. There wasn’t a single blemish on it, but that didn’t matter. Your mouth went dry as you stared at it, heart pounding as the weight of the command settled over you.

Eris’s boot nudged you again, his tone growing sharper. “Don’t make me ask again.” From where his arm rested lazily on the armrest of his throne, a flame flickered to life in his open palm, the heat radiating toward you. The fire curled and danced over his skin, a casual display of power that served as a clear threat. 

With a shaky breath, you hesitated only for a moment before your tongue darted out, gliding over the boot’s surface. The taste of leather and polish filled your mouth, bitter and foreign, as your tongue traced a slow line across the gleaming surface.

“There it is,” Eris murmured, a pleased hum rumbling from deep in his chest. “Lick it clean, darling. I want it to shine from your devotion.”

You did as he commanded, dragging your tongue over the same spotless patch, knowing full well it was already as clean as it could be. The court was silent, save for the soft murmurs that rose with each touch of your lips to his boot. Your cheeks burned with humiliation. All this, simply for deigning to ask for better food rations for the people in your town. You had pleaded for basic decency, for fairness, and now here you were, on your knees for even suggesting such a thing. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Eris withdrew his boot slightly, but the smug smile never left his face. “Good. Now let’s hear it again. Tell me how grateful you are for the privilege of licking my boots.”

Your throat tightened as you struggled to form the words. “I’m… I’m grateful, my lord,” you whispered, your eyes glued to the glistening marble floor. 

“Louder,” Eris commanded, his voice cold and unyielding. “Let them all hear how much you adore being on your knees for me.”

Your heart pounded, the shame threatening to swallow you whole as you forced the words from your lips. “I’m grateful, my lord,” you said, a bit too loudly. You cleared your throat. “I’m grateful for the chance to serve you, to worship your boots.”

A pleased hum escaped Eris, and he withdrew his foot, sitting back on his throne like a king; the very image of arrogance. “Good girl,” he said softly, his voice dripping with condescension. “Now remember, darling — this is your place.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@starlightazriel @nvdax @halo-hanging @paleidiot @kismet27

@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

@lorosette @alykatv @honethatty12 @hellabizzy @serena-capella

@acoazlove @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @scorpioriesling @hannzoaks @confusedsezure

@elenapri0502 @anneas11 @mrsjna @lilah-asteria @randomgurl2326

@scarsandallaz @julesvanslutta @fourthwing4ever

[yeonjune]

yeonjun ✙ vanity fair - game show

[crushpunky]

drew starkey x actress!reader masterlist

blurbs

drew starkey x actress!reader thoughts !!! drew starkey x actress!reader timeline [UPDATED] actress!reader camera roll

drew and actress!reader being the best couple for 10 minutes drew and actress!reader do the “we listen and we don’t judge” challenge drew and actress!reader do the suspects challenge actress!reader’s reaction to drew’s new hair (+ eyebrows) drew being obsessed with actress!reader for 10 minutes drew and actress!reader having crushes on each other for 10 minutes

full fics

drew and actress!reader’s first premiere as a couple drew and actress!reader in their new house drew and actress!reader at the venice film festival drew and actress!reader talk about the future drew and actress!reader attend a fashion show drew and actress!reader feel the distance drew tells actress!reader how he feels actress!reader and “big, bad boyfriend” drew actress!reader visits drew on the obx set actress!reader and drew go public actress!reader is worried about drew drew and actress!reader shoot an intense scene actress!reader supports drew at his premiere drew’s lockscreen of actress!reader drew saves actress!reader from the paparazzi drew’s live gets interrupted by actress!reader drew and actress!reader argue about their next steps drew helps actress!reader with a wardrobe malfunction paparazzi interrupts drew and actress!reader's walk drew visits actress!reader (+ jealousy ensues) actress!reader attends the golden globes (with a special accessory) drew and actress!reader babysit drew and actress!reader do a q and a paparazzi catches actress!reader’s baby bump actress!reader helps drew rehearse a scene drew and actress!reader take on the snow drew and actress!reader attend their first event following their pregnancy announcement drew and actress!reader’s first valentine’s day drew and actress!reader attend poguelandia

interview fics

drew and actress!reader read thirst tweets drew and actress!readers on hot ones drew and actress!reader on the kitten interview drew and actress!reader test how well they know each other drew and actress!reader play the vanity fair game show drew tells a story about actress!reader actress!reader calls drew on phoning it in drew and actress!reader take the “rizz quiz” actress!reader reveals what’s on her phone drew and actress!reader do the wired autocomplete interview

moodboards + social media aus

[drew starkey x actress!reader tag] [actress!reader tag] actress!reader's obx character, caroline, masterlist [tag]

[the-empress-7]

Netflix will leave her with almost nothing, but they needed to obtain money somehow after the failed deal (we have had confirmation even from Vanity Fair that they weren’t paid $100M, but whatever amount they paid, they haven’t seen the returns so, this is the last opportunity from Netflix to gain finally something and from that woman to see if she can make it in Hollywood

I doubt Netflix is expecting much money anyway. If they would have wanted to make millions from this, they should not have let her to do all this branding mess, they should have helped her 🤷🏻‍♀️. And let’s be honest, I don’t think they are too stupid to believe that her show willl create the same ‘desire’, success and views that stranger things and squid game created, there is no way.

Maybe all this is to save face and to not let people see that they were scammed by the most stupid people in this world: the Harkles. Spotify opted to expose the truth and that make them seem like idiots for hiring them in the first place. Netflix with all its money messes and critics from the last few years, the last thing they want is to be labeled as very bad for business (we already know it they are bad, but they want to pretend they made ‘the deal’ with those two grifters)

It's the sunk cost fallacy.