#i am at least mildly entertaining

[chimneyz]

im the type of mutual that you think is just a small kitten you brought into your home but later realized im just a feral raccoon you don't know what to do with 🫶

[seeminglyseph]

A thing I feel about Telemachus and Antinous in Legendary and the fact that like. Telemachus objects to calling Penelope a "tramp" when Antinous' line about opening her room to have fun with her obviously feels much worse and more threatening... but I feel like Telemachus is kind of going like; "hey, the line? You crossed it a while ago."

Like, everything after tramp doesn't count because tramp was too far to begin with, and if Telemachus was strong enough to deal with the problem Antinous would no longer be here to say the gross shit afterwords because that would have been the point where Antinous died. Or at least broke his jaw and lost his ability to say nasty shit about Telemachus' mom.

Which is where the rule of "talk shit get hit" comes from, Telemachus is just untrained in combat because Laertes sucks at his job.

[waystarresourceco]

So building off of this post about Kendall and Logan – I don’t know if I’m the last person to realize this but the idea that the hug in “With Open Eyes” is the culmination of Kendall’s (conscious? subconscious?) understanding of familial acts of love is kind of amazing? Like, think about it. It’s a progression:

At 6, Kendall goes to Waystar and it’s the greatest thing ever. Everyone loves him and best of all, he gets to spend time with his dad. But then he wanders off – he’s lost and scared and confronted by a person so much bigger than he is. And right when his tiny world is on the verge of collapse, there comes Logan. Riding in with the power to fix anything and everything with the very strength of his presence. The power to sooth Kendall with an embrace. It’s a comfort.

At 38, Kendall does something awful and he’s not sure how he’s going to live with himself. It’s so big, so painful. He can’t even form the thoughts properly. He should never have gone out. Should have never gone against his father. He feels the pressure of a stare (his father’s or the boys?). It’s suffocating. He feels like maybe this is the end of him. He thinks maybe he’ll die. But then, his father opens his arms and Kendall is six years old. He’s lost and he’s scared but his father is the sun and Logan is there to take some of the weight off his shoulders. It’s a relief.

At 40, Kendall’s father is gone and the world is worse for it. But he can’t think about that now. Because right now, the most important thing is Waystar. And despite everything, despite how complicated it all was – he knows this is what his father wants. It was always supposed to be a family business. And Roman and Shiv are finally with him. Everything is as it should be– except it isn’t. Because Roman is scared. He’s worrying at his stitches and twitching and rambling about what people will think of him and god Kendall knows what it’s like to be that scared. To be lost. He remembers being 6, he remembers being 38, he remembers his father’s embrace. He remembers his father’s love. Now it’s his job to comfort his brother – just as his father comforted him. Kendall opens his arms. It’s a gift.

It's love.

[nightmare8-420]

i feel like a part of my soul has been ripped from my chest and i dont know why.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

whipped ⋆˚࿔

synopsis ⭑.ᐟ james potter x reader where he's jealous and remus doesn't always talk about sirius

warnings: none

word count: 1,143 words

navigation┆ james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet for a Saturday evening. Most students were milling about outside, taking advantage of the crisp autumn weather, but James Potter was perched stiffly on one of the armchairs by the fireplace, staring at the door as though it owed him an explanation.

Across from him, Remus Lupin was mid-rant, gesturing vaguely with a chocolate frog. "And so I told Sirius he couldn’t just charm the books to read themselves, because that defeats the entire purpose of studying, doesn’t it? But, of course, he—James, are you even listening to me?"

James, who hadn’t looked away from the door in at least five minutes, blinked. "What? Yeah, of course, I’m listening to you."

Remus raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? Then what did I just say?"

James scratched the back of his neck, his hazel eyes still glued to the door. "Uh… something about Sirius and… words?"

Remus let out a dramatic sigh, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly. "You know, I don’t always talk about Sirius, James. I have other topics."

James finally tore his gaze from the door to smirk at his friend. "Sure, Moony. And I’m totally listening to you and not, in any way, staring at the door and counting how long my lovely girlfriend’s been gone with Amos bloody Diggory."

Remus tilted his head, catching the light teasing in James’ tone but also noting the furrow of concern in his brows. "They’ve only been gone for five minutes, Prongs."

"Exactly!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "What could they possibly need to discuss in private for that long? Private. Honestly." He made air quotes around the word as though it were the most ridiculous concept in the world.

"Maybe something private?" Remus suggested with a shrug.

James leaned back, crossing his arms and pouting like a child denied dessert. "You’re not helping, Moony. What could Diggory possibly want? He doesn’t even like books—probably doesn’t know what a book is. Did you see the way he walked her out of the common room? All confident, like he owns the place? Smug git."

Remus suppressed a smile. "You know, if you’re this worried, maybe you should just follow them next time."

"Don’t tempt me." James narrowed his eyes, the wheels clearly turning in his head.

James let out an indignant scoff, running a hand through his messy hair. “Why couldn’t he say it here, in front of everyone, where it’s safe?” His voice grew increasingly dramatic, and Remus could only watch, mildly horrified but also slightly entertained.

“James, I don’t think Diggory is plotting her demise,” Remus reasoned dryly.

“You don’t know that!” James hissed, glaring at the door again as though willing it to open. “He’s suspicious. I mean, why does he always have to be so—ugh—charming?” He spat the word like it physically hurt him. “It’s unnatural. What does he think he’s playing at, asking for ‘private’ time?!”

“You’re spiraling,” Remus pointed out, though his tone carried no real concern.

“Maybe I am spiraling!” James snapped. “Maybe spiraling is exactly what I should be doing when my girlfriend is out there—alone—with Amos Diggory. For TEN MINUTES.”

Before Remus could reply, the portrait swung open, and in walked you, looking perfectly content and completely unaware of the turmoil you’d left in your wake.

James bolted upright, all his previous indignation vanishing in an instant. "You’re back!" He practically sprinted to your side, his glasses slightly askew from the rush.

You blinked at him, startled by his sudden enthusiasm. "Uh, yeah. I was only gone for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?!" James gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? It felt like ten days! One minute feels like a day without you, darling!"

Remus groaned, muttering something about melodrama under his breath as he retreated to his chair.

You laughed, shaking your head. "James, you’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously relieved you’re safe!" he quipped, his eyes softening as they roved over your face. "So… what did Diggory want to talk about? In private," he added, voice dripping with mockery.

You rolled your eyes. "He wanted me to tutor him in Charms."

James’ brow furrowed, jealousy bubbling up, though he masked it poorly with faux curiosity. "And you said…?"

"I said no, of course," you replied breezily. "He’s hopeless and creepy. I can live without that headache."

James’ face immediately brightened, his chest puffing out in pride. “That’s my girl,” he said with a smug grin, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Smart, talented, and way too good to waste her time on someone like Diggory.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Jealous, are we?”

“Who, me? Jealous?” James scoffed, though his ears turned pink. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Behind him, Remus coughed pointedly.

“Alright, maybe a little,” James admitted, pulling you closer. “But it’s only because I’m madly in love with you, and if Diggory thinks he can swoop in and—”

“James, I literally said no to him,” you interrupted, laughing. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Damn right, he doesn’t,” James said, his jealousy melting into his usual cheeky grin. “Now, c’mon, I’ve been waiting forever to cuddle you.”

“Forever being ten minutes,” Remus quipped from his armchair.

James turned to him with a mock glare. “I don’t need your sass, Moony.”

“Of course you don’t,” Remus said with a sigh, hiding a smirk behind his book.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Were you really that worried, Potter?"

"Not worried, per se," he replied, the smirk creeping back onto his face. "Just… concerned for your well-being. Diggory’s a creep. He could’ve tried something. And if he had, well…" He flexed his arms exaggeratedly. "I’d have to remind him why I’m Gryffindor’s best duelist and the Quidditch captain."

You burst into laughter, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh, James. You’re impossible."

"And yet, you love me," he said cheekily, stealing a quick kiss on your forehead.

bonus.ᐟ

The Quidditch pitch was alive with the sound of beating wings and shouts as the Gryffindor team practiced. You sat on the stands, your eyes glued to James as he weaved through the air, golden and red robes fluttering behind him.

Next to you, Remus was trying to explain something—probably related to Sirius, as always—but you weren’t paying attention.

"And then, of course, Sirius said—Dove? Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course I am, Rem," you said absentmindedly, your gaze fixed on James as he executed a particularly sharp turn to dodge a bludger.

"Yeah? What was I talking about then?"

"Something about Sirius and… stuff?"

Remus groaned, his cheeks turning pink. “Why does everyone assume I’m always talking about Sirius?”

You didn’t answer, already back to watching James, who waved at you mid-air and nearly crashed into one of the goalposts. Remus sighed. “You and James are perfect for each other,” he muttered, shaking his head.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[maxlarens]

ok so i had an idea for the rb photographer fic if you're up for it

first of all im like in love w ur fics i love em all

and nextly, listen to this..

charles isn't single but manwhore carlos probably is?

he flirts w our photographer and makes max jealous?? roped in by danny ofc to get them together?? what do you think??

anyway have a great day! <33333

UM OKAY THANK YOU! max x rbphotographer!reader are literally everything to me and i am SOO thrilled to have gotten this request. very in character for daniel to get everyone involved in scheming even tho max has told him not to😭 love it so much😇😇 hope u enjoy and i am SOOOO sorry this took so long xx

MV: tonight (i wish i was your boy)

pairing(s): max verstappen x redbull photographer!reader

word count: 1.9k+

Max likes to think he’s not a jealous person.

Max likes to think that— but it doesn’t mean it’s true. Daniel would and has, argued that Max is an abnormally jealous person. In the sense that Max doesn’t like to share. Doesn’t like other people playing with his toys. Not that he thinks of you (or Daniel) as his toy— that’s absurd. He’s a jealous person, not some territorial asshole with an anger problem. (Okay, sometimes he has an anger problem. He’s been working on it. It hardly crops up anymore, but he’s not territorial).

He is, again, bad at sharing, and also uniquely used to getting what he wants.

It’s not because he’s got a crush on you. Despite what Daniel would like to assume. It’s just that you’re meant to be his friend. You’re here with him, because of him. He’s meant to be able to hover around you all night, getting carried away as he tries to explain something meaningless while you give him that half-grin that you don’t even realise you’re doing most of the time. He’s the one who’s supposed to be putting his hand on your back, and leaning in to ask if you’d like another drink—

Not Carlos.

Definitely not Carlos.

(Well, at least it’s not Charles).

Instead, Max is standing next to an overeager Lando at the DJ deck, gripping his drink so hard that he’s mildly concerned the glass will shatter to pieces in his hand. Actually, that’s not such a bad idea to get your attention. Maybe if that happens you’ll stop looking at Carlos Sainz Jr with big googly eyes and you’ll come nurse his hand or whatever it is you’re supposed to do in pathetic little fantasies like the one he’s entertaining. You’re not really the nursing type though, you’re more prone to start freaking out and calling everyone on the Red Bull team to tell them that Max has irreparably damaged his hand.

Max stops entertaining that particular fantasy.

Daniel’s not here, he’s gone home to Australia for a few weeks and skipped out on this weird little grid (+ friends) party that Charles is throwing. This is good and this is bad for Max. On one hand Daniel is not here to rib him about his half-admitted crush on you, on the other hand Daniel is not here to distract him from his half-admitted crush on you. There’s Lando of course, who can be just as good in the distraction department, but it’s not quite the same. 

Lando doesn’t quite know about the raging crush, which is probably for the better. He’s been around when Lando’s tried to set up Oscar before and that was an absolute unmitigated disaster.

“Hey man,” speaking of Oscar, “You good?”

Max frowns and then half turns to look at Oscar who’s now hovering next to Lando with a fruity little drink in hand, “Yeah mate,” he answers, confused.

Oscar gets this weird little micro expression on his face that Max wouldn’t usually take any note of— his forehead creases, he raises a disbelieving eyebrow— but the skepticism grates at Max a little, leaves him wondering.

“Why?”, he caves.

Oscar shakes his head, shrugs, “You're kind of staring down Carlos."

Max's mouth falls open, just a little. He is not. His eyes flit to Lando unconsciously for confirmation before he has a chance to defend himself against what are frankly untrue allegations from Oscar. But Lando is already shrugging, making a face that says he has been.

Fuck. Max frowns. And doesn't say anything.

Better to stay quiet and look moody than to admit anything to these two. Total menaces. Well, no that's Lando. Oscar might be helpful. Still, Max isn't going to admit anything. Daniel and apparently Charles knowing about it is more than enough.

Their hushed conversation behind him fades into the background as Max turns again to look at you and Carlos— and alright he gets it now. There's definitely a different kind of set to his jaw, a scowl on his lips as he watches Carlos put his hand on your shoulder.

There is something in his gut. Something sick. The feeling he gets when he's on track and the car starts sliding, the wheels locking up. When hears the va-rum of a car go by, sees something that isn't wide open space in front of him. Something like panic starts to climb up his throat. He knows he shouldn't be this bothered by you and another person, but he can't get rid of this voice in the back of his head that says you might like Carlos more than him. That you might stop hanging around Max, texting him at all hours of the day with photos of your food or random questions, waiting for him in the garage after sessions and not just because you've got to take pictures of him, and going out for food on 'friend dates' as you've taken to calling them.

If you and Carlos... okay no, Max doesn't even want to think about it.

He starts walking over, trying to smooth his face into something less intimidating as he goes. He turns it into a strained, mouth-closed smile that doesn't reach his eyes. He directs it at Carlos.

There's a glint in Carlos' eyes that Max doesn't like the look of.

"Hi Max," he says, flashing his white teeth, he gestures to you, "I was just getting to know your lovely friend here."

Alright. Max understands instantly. This has Daniel's name written all fucking over it. Max's fake smile falls, turning into a flat look that he levels at Carlos. He's trying not to scowl because he doesn't want you to catch on to anything, but it's not easy. His phone is burning a hole in his pocket, he doesn't care if it's the middle of the night in Australia right now, he's itching to call Danny and ask him what the fuck he is thinking pulling something like this from 14,000 kilometers away?

"Mm," Max hums, unimpressed, unable to fake pleasantries even for your sake, "Great."

You look at him, eyebrows raised a little incredulously at his tone. There's slight amusement there too, he thinks, as he returns your look. You squint a little, as if to say, don't give me that look, Max Verstappen. He can feel himself smiling, the corner of his mouth lifting with ease even though the object of his anger still has his stupid hand on your shoulder.

He can't help himself when he reaches for your elbow, asks, "D'you wanna get a drink?"

You bite down on the edge of your smile, "Sure, Maxie."

You turn and say something to Carlos that he doesn't listen to. Partly because he doesn't care, partly because the sound of you saying Maxie is playing on a loop in his head, like it always does whenever you use the nickname. Which is more often than not. God, he loves it. Maxie Maxie Maxie. It sounds so syrupy sweet coming from your mouth. Smothered in affection. You're the only person, bar his mum and sister that he lets use it. Daniel sometimes, but Daniel would say it regardless, the menace that he is.

"Max," you say, hand on his bicep, thumb smoothing back and forth there, "Where'd you go?"

Max blinks. Carlos is gone now.

"Hm, no, nowhere," you frown, so he says, "Just a bit tired."

This seems to satisfy you. You slip an arm into the crook of his, linking them together as you tug him to the bar. You order him a G&T and yourself a glass of wine before the two of you head out onto the balcony where it's far quieter. Less people, less chatter. Max prefers it like this, with no one there to get in the way of your attention on him, his on you. He thinks you prefer it too.

He hopes you do at least.

You sip your wine, Max’s eyes linger on the line of your neck, the way your fingers curl around the glass, how your eyes glitter in the early afternoon sun.

“What was that earlier?”, you gesture inside, raising your eyebrows again, “With Carlos?”

Max laughs nervously without meaning to, “Uh, what do you mean?”

The ‘something sick’ is back in his gut again. He hopes you buy his nonchalance, but doesn’t feel confident you will. You know him too well. That’s his fault.

You sigh, “I mean the dick measuring contest, Maxie.”

Maxie. Maxie.

Then he finally registers your words around the loop of your voice in his head, he guffaws, almost choking on his drink, “The dick measuring contest!?”

“Yes,” you hiss, leaning forward on your stool, “Yes, Max. I’m not an idiot, you were getting territorial.”

Max blinks. Max feels red creeping up his neck. Max feels butterflies and maybe a chainsaw in his stomach.

“Wha—”, he tries again, “I—”

His mouth doesn’t appear to be working. Maybe because he’s not sure what on earth he’s supposed to say. What do you even mean? Are you trying to say that you know he was jealous of Carlos? That you know he has feelings for you? Or are you just referencing the fact that he’s weirdly territorial of his friends sometimes? What is he supposed to say in response to any of it? He can’t figure it out for the life of him.

Then you’re blushing you’re blushing and you’re saying, “You don’t have to worry, Max. You’re my favourite person here.”

Okay, alright, what the fuck does that mean? God. Max hates this. If you were any other girl he’d have asked you out literally years ago. But because you’re you and you’re his best friend besides Daniel, he can’t ask you out. He has to smother his feelings into something platonic because he cannot bear the idea of losing you.

Despite his better judgment telling him not to, Max asks, “Really?”

You hum, “Really, really.”

It happens in slow motion, it must. Or at least that’s how Max replays it in his head every night before he goes to sleep. You reach forward and put your hand over his, fingers on his wrist, thumb drawing a pattern on his upturned palm.

Then you say, in a way that he can’t figure out for the life of him, “Love you, Maxie.”

Chills run down the length of his spine, that chainsaw starts up again in his stomach. Love you, Maxie. He feels sick— like he might word vomit the entirety of his feelings for you right there and then. Instead, he forces himself to smile. Closed-mouth, eyes crinkled.

“Mm, yeah, love you,” he says back, his voice cracking as he tries to make it sound normal and platonic and not wracked with nerves.

You smile, warm, beaming and showing your teeth, like he’s made your day infinitely better by just saying those words. As if you’ve not just made his stomach churn and his heart take leaps and bounds in his chest. As if he’s not going to think about the way you’d said it every second of every day. As if he won’t dream of you saying it in every other context imaginable.

You pat his hand twice, then pull it back to take hold of your drink again. Smiling as if you’ve not ruined him for anyone else for good.

[mythicmanuscripts]

PLEASE more aemond PLS i am on my knees begging for scraps. ur one of the only writers who actually GETS him

Thank you so much!! One of the main reasons why I started this blog is because I couldn’t find much content of Aemond and how I picture him so this means a lot!! I have a few little ideas that aren’t really long enough for full imagines that I’m just gonna babble on about here for more sub!Aemond content :)) also, you guys are more than welcome to send more requests and to send more specific requests!! Anyway, here’s some random disjointed sub!Aemond babble

I didn’t intend for this to all be SFW thoughts it kinda just happened?? Honestly I have no idea how but yeah this is all SFW, I am happy to write more NSFW though! So if you have any ideas for NSFW sub!aemond then let me know :))

————————————

The first time you ever give Aemond anything resembling an order is at your first dinner after your wedding. Aemond is stiff and formal, barely entertaining conversation, you get the impression that he wishes he were anywhere else.

There’s a pitcher of wine next to Aemond, and you ask to have more wine. You say this out loud, and as expected a servant immediately takes the wine pitcher and fills your glass. You thank them, but then to your surprise when you look back at Aemond he looks angry, and maybe even tells the servant to get lost?

So now obviously you’re beyond confused and you ask him what’s wrong. Which leads him to blush. BLUSH?? And he softly mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like “you asked me to do it and they did”

You press him and eventually realise that for whatever reason, Aemond thought you were asking him to refill your glass and he’s upset that a servant did it before he could. Which… you’ve never been so confused in your life because you what?? He’s barely even speaking to you and then he’s upset he couldn’t fill your glass?? He’s upset he couldn’t do that has always been the servants job?

So without thinking you get up, put your now full wine glass on the cabinet and grab an empty one. You sit back down and ask Aemond to fill your wine glass. You expect him to roll his eyes but he immediately takes the wine pitcher and fills your glass and then gets up and carries the glass to your side of the table, putting it down for you.

You thank him, and to your shock he… smiles?? So then you decide to lay it on thick and say “thank you very much Aemond, I appreciate it” and then he just… actually starts a proper conversation with you and seems very pleased with himself??

So after that you start experimenting, asking Aemond to do things for you, thanking him when he does and praising him and well, he now follows you around everywhere you go and will fire any servants who dare to try and do whatever you’ve asked him to do.

————————————————

When Allicent first met you, she was beyond relieved because she very quickly realised how much influence you have over Aemond. She thinks that she’s finally found a way she can control Aemond and ensure he behaves and does what she wants.

Unfortunately she very quickly realises how wrong she was when she tries to form some sort of pact with you and you shoot her down immediately. You tell her that you have absolutely no interest in being a tool for her to use to control Aemond.

And well, now allicent is in even worse a position because before Aemond would at least mostly listen to her and now? Now Aemond doesn’t even look at her, nevermind speak or listen to her.

Aemond gets all the love and affection and guidance he could ever need from you. Allicent could be on fire next to him and he wouldn’t even notice.

————————————

The first time you suggest kneeling for Aemond, he’s mildly offended. He thought you understood how much he needed to be cared for and loved and never degraded and now you want him to kneel for you?

But, Aemond trusts you and he knows you always know what’s best for him so he agrees to try it once. You put a pillow down on the floor in front of a chair by the fire in his chambers. You sit down on the chair with a book, and have Aemond kneel on the pillow. You let him rest his head on his inner thigh.

Within 2 minutes Aemond is obsessed. He just…. He feels so safe?? You’ve got your hand in his hair, the fire is providing warmth, and it’s just the two of you. Very quickly he closes his eyes and just lets himself drift, the sounds of the fire and of you turning pages lulls him into this calm, almost half asleep state.

So obviously from there kneeling for you becomes common place. And maybe he even starts to tell you things while he kneels? It’s like once he’s there, his head on your thigh, all nice and safe, he’s able to just vent and complain and tell you everything that’s been on his mind.

As much as Aemond loves hearing your counsel and always asks what you think of things, you don’t give him any advice while he kneels for you. That’s not the time, he only wants to be allowed to vent and feel safe when he kneels.

And then maybe you also start reading to him? And god Aemond is just in heaven, not a single one thought in his head. He vents to you, gets all his frustrations out and then gets to just close his eyes and listen to your voice until he’s about to fall asleep right there. Then you help him up and crawl into bed with him, he’s asleep before you can even blow out the candles.

———————————

[nocasdatsgay]

Sold

Pairing: Technically Lucien/Reader | Word Count: 1739| Rating M

Summary: Beron buys you for his sons. Specifically, Lucien

Warnings: Family sells reader off to the forest house, Dubious Consent, Loss of Virginity, mildly descriptive sex. Brief physical abuse.

A/N: This is the first in a series where consorts are kept by Beron to keep his sons entertained. You are responsible for what you consume. Also IDK if anyone wants to be tagged so let me know. I am so scared of tagging people on iffy stuff that might be triggering.

Harlots of Autumn Master List | Read on AO3 |Part 1 of Harlots of Autumn

The day you were presented to the court during a ball as an eligible female, was the day that sealed your fate. You were meant to secure a husband and elevate your family’s status just like your cousins. It was harder for you, not being of the Autumn Court. That didn’t mean you couldn’t try. You had begged your aunt and uncle to take you to the next ball and begrudgingly they did. You regretted it when you were watched like an Autumn Hawk by five of the seven Vanserra heirs.

The youngest- he was your age or possibly a little older. He seemed the least intimidating of them all. He didn’t pay you much mind, thankfully. Only chatted with you for a brief moment. You thought that was why his brothers were staring. But you still felt eyes on you as you worked the room, talking up males closer to your station than an Heir of the High Lord. You felt confident in your mingling by the end of the night. Until you went to leave and instead of immediately traveling home, you were pulled into a room by your uncle.

“The High Lord has made an offer for you.” He did not look you in the eyes.

“For me?” You frowned. Your aunt looked solemn and not meeting your gaze either. “What kind of offer?”

“You have to understand, dear. You’re getting older and with the new babe to raise- You’ll be well taken care of.” She said softly.

“I don’t understand.” You mind flashed to the way the heirs' eyes raked over you. How they sneered and watched you all night. “Am I, am I to be betrothed?”

“No. No, you won’t be married.”

You were more confused. “What did he offer you? What does he want with me?” You became more frightened the longer his silence went.

“Being an orphan and from another court, this was honestly the best choice.” Your aunt seemed to speak to herself instead of you.

“What did you do?” Your heart was racing, tears welling in your eyes.

Your uncle finally looked at you. His sadness was palpable.

“He gave us more land- more money than we know what to do with, in exchange for you. For his sons.”

“Sons?” Your were going to be sick. More tears clouded your vision. You knew exactly what that meant. “You gave me up to be a harlot? For some extra land and money?”

“You’ll be taken care of. You’ll be paid handsomely, and have your own money. You’ll be part of the court. It’s a life better than what a male of our station could ever-”

“But I will be a whore!” You cried out.

“You will be a mistress,” your uncle hissed. “This is not a brothel, you’ll be under the protection of the High Lord. You’ll still be able to see us-“

“As I would want to see you after this,” you hissed in return.

He back-handed you for it. You stumbled and cradled your cheek.

“He wants you for his youngest first,” your uncle continued, glaring at you. “You’re lucky he doesn’t want you for himself. If you’re smart you just might become the youngest son’s wife.”

“A whore never becomes a wife,” you whispered.

“This is not a debate. We will go home and pack your things. They want you back here by tomorrow afternoon.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You wondered if you could die of shame.

Walking into the Forest House the next day, your aunt made you hold your head high despite your fate. You were ushered down the halls to the infirmary to meet with the healer. Thankfully the healer was female. You were in good health. You held your breath as the female went under your skirts and checked you. You had declined male advances your whole life, waiting like a good female for a husband.

Obviously that got you far.

That evening you were led to a room and bathed by servants. The pine green dress they gave you to put on was worth more than months wages in the village, judging by the fabric. They styled your hair and you avoided looking at yourself in the mirror. More servants brought you food and then finally you were left alone. You couldn’t eat, nausea from nerves rolling your stomach. You wanted to rage; to cry. You knew your aunt and uncle didn’t love you- not when you were the cause of your mother’s death during childbirth. But you never thought they would sell you.

The door opened, jolting you from your thoughts. The kind male you spoke with briefly last night came in. He was just as lovely as the night before; dressed down in a white tunic and brown trousers. He smiled, though it didn’t reach his kind eyes. You stood and curtsied.

“Lord Lucien,” she stared at the floor.

You introduced yourself and stumbled over the title of lady. You didn’t know if you could call yourself a lady now.

“I remember,” he replied softly.

You dared to look up, your eyes meeting his sad russet ones.

“Shall we get this over with?” You glanced at the bed in the room, twisting your hands together.

Lucien scoffed. “We don’t have to do this.”

You frowned, fear flipped your stomach. “They will check me.”

“There are ways around that,” Lucien replied flippantly.

You started to panic.

“Lord Lucien, if you are as kind of a male as you seem, please allow me this comfort.” You pleaded. “I- you seem like you’d be more gentle than your brothers.” You were met with silence. “Please? I don’t want to force you but I also don’t-“ you couldn’t say it.

If he didn’t take your maidenhood, one of the other males would. You doubted they cared whether or not they hurt you badly. Lucien sighed heavily; you wonder if he was realizing the same thing.

“Promise me you will tell me if I hurt you.” You nodded. “Can I undress you?”

“Yes.” Your face heated against your will.

“Turn around. I’ll only take off your dress, then you can get on the bed.”

You inhaled deeply to calm your nerves and turned to face away from him. You heard his footsteps; he stopped behind you and gently brushed back your hair. Goosebumps cascaded down your arms, and he slowly dragged his fingers down your neck to where your dress ties started on your back.

“Oh you’re a devil,” you laughed, unable to stop yourself.

He chuckled behind you. “I want to make it good for you, is that not what you asked for?”

“I suppose I did.”

He undid the ties to your dress, the front of it falling forward. You held the fabric close to your chest instead of letting it fall out of instinct. Lucien ran a warm finger up your spine. He leaned in close and you tense your shoulders.

“Drop the dress and get on the bed.” His warm breath fanned along your ear and neck.

Reluctantly, you obliged. The bed was soft, better than the one in the place you once called home. The duvet was a forest green with white sheets underneath. You shuddered at how those sheets would be stained by the end of this. You covered your chest with your arms and sat at the head of the bed.

“Don’t be so shy,” he grinned wickedly at you as he tugged off his shirt.

Your eyes went to his chest, then downward to his trousers before quickly you looked back to his eyes. It felt like your whole face was flushed. He crawled up the bed to you and you could smell his scent sweeten with arousal. He looked like it would eat you alive, the way he grinned at you.

“Lay back, let me see you.” He groaned when you moved your arms, revealing your breasts. “You are a pretty one.”

He pushed you back and crawled over you. You were correct about his gentleness. He was so careful with you, asking you constantly if it was okay to touch you or if it hurt. Lucien coaxed you into relaxing by kissing you gently and then moving down to take your breast in his mouth. He had you squirming under him, your hips rolling against his and his hard cock in his trousers. Lucien moved down further and made you come on his tongue and fingers before he took you with his cock. Then he made you come again with him.

Good was an understatement of how you felt. You didn’t come to your senses until he moved off of you. Then you felt too naked, cold from his lack of body heat over you. You moved to get out of the bed, to grab the dress from earlier, if only to cover yourself before the healers came. You looked back at the sheets and gasped. Lucien was lying on the other side of the bed, arm over his eyes to block out the light. He lifted his arm to look at you.

“Are you all right?”

“The sheets,” you grabbed the dress off the floor to cover yourself. “They’re clean.”

”I don’t know about that. I know I broke a sweat getting that second one out of you.” Lucien grinned at you. “You were pretty wet for me too when I finally fucked you. I’m sure that’s on the sheets as well.”

“There’s no blood, Lucien,” you scowled, cheeks flushing at his blatant crudeness.

He laughed. “Females only bleed when a male doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

”But the healer-“

”Edith won’t care, I promise.” He sat up and looked over the bed for his own clothes. “Let me go get her, I’m sure she’s ready to be done with this as we are.”

Regrettably, that was the first and only time you went to bed with Lucien. You had assumed before that night that you were sent to take his own first time but Lucien was far too experienced for that to be the case. You later found out the real reason you were given to him was because of his dalliance with lesser fae. As crudely put by one of the brothers, they “assumed a high fae cunt would change his mind.”

It didn’t; and a few years later a poor female paid the price for it. You wouldn’t see Lucien again after that for another century.

Part 2

[eldritch-spouse]

[There's something in my drafts I'm hardly going to finish, so I'll just leave this here.]

Full: Option 1; Option 2

TW: Degradation; Public humiliation

You meet behind the local mall.

The same one he first stalked you in, of course. You're a sentimental sap, after all, but it also helps you remember to not feel bad about anything you do to Patches. He's just a creep, always been one, and creeps don't deserve anything.

Certainly not when they arrive 10 minutes after the scheduled time.

You watch him meekly trudge towards you, slightly shadowed by the more secluded nature of this location. Patches has the decency to look embarrassed, rubbing his own arm and refusing to make eye contact while his old boots all but drag on the rocky ground.

He listened to your advice from last time, at least, making an effort to look more normal by wearing only his shirt and pants. Putting aside the garish shoe wear and the fucking ridiculous hat he refuses to part ways with, he could almost blend in well enough with other monsters.

This style of clothing isn't his preference, if the way he's shrinking even more into himself is any indication.

" Oh goodie, look who finally decided to show up! "

The dullahan immediately starts scratching at the bold veins on his arms, irritating the pockets of magic beneath his skin.

" I- I'm so sorry, Ma'am. I didn't mean to be late- It's- My... " He chokes a little. " My work... There was a- "

" Did I ask for excuses? "

Your tone is your most powerful weapon. In the flip of a switch, sugary, sardonic babying can become a bitter, chilling warning. It always seems to catch the undead's breath.

" No, ma'am... "

" You know, this happens a lot Patches. I'm starting to think that maybe you don't want to see me at all. "

The words make him panic, wide sockets peeking from his downturned hat to gouge the seriousness of your words.

" Ne- Never never! I lov- "

" Then don't waste my time. " You smile. " Are you getting cocky because I happen to find you mildly entertaining? Do you think you have a shot with any woman out there? " You speak as if you're addressing a crippled animal. " Oh, you dumb little thing, there's nothing in that head except seeds, hm? "

There's already some color around his face. " ... Yes, ma'am. "

" Good. " Your hand reaches to pet him under the chin. " Good boy, we keep our expectations in reality, don't we? We know you're just a loser, and losers don't get to waste anyone's time. That's rude, isn't it? "

Just this once, you allow him to nod instead of verbally answering.

There's a silent beat, before one stocking clad leg raises and your heel collides with his knee, sending the monster tumbling down. It wasn't a particularly strong hit, just something to make him smarten up.

Properly trained, Patches stays down, looking up at you with poorly masked anticipation.

" Well come on, dummy. " A foot taps against the ground, shiny black pumps that he bought you, with a small moon-shaped jewel on the front. They're pretty, his eyes twinkle with happiness just looking at them on your feet. " We're not going home until I feel like you're sorry enough. "

Patches knows what to do. He flattens to the ground like no more than a worm. Anyone could realistically pass by this nook and see him prostrated before some woman, slimy green tongue out to polish already spotless shoes.

Annoyed, you swat that large hat away, putting it on yourself instead.

" My hat-! "

" How am I supposed to know if you're doing a good job if I can't see you? " He looks back down, defeated. " God, you're so stupid. "

That gets him to work. The dullahan is nothing if not dedicated, quickly getting into the task. He lavishes the sides of your pumps, tongue flirting with your skin and hands twitching on concrete when you warningly 'tsk'. The length of them is peppered in carved kisses, and he pays special attention to the jewels, huffing with what you already know to be pure neediness. His drool leaves a translucent yet slightly green sheen behind, which looks almost pretty under the light.

Or maybe you're just mildly depraved.

Not as much as Patches, at least.

" What a good job you're doing down there! " You coo, the same way you would at a golden retriever that just handed you its paw. " You've always been good at this, maybe it should be your new profession, hah. "

He makes some kind of breathy mewl, now just retracing his earlier work. You figure that's enough for now.

" Okay okay, stop, I can almost forgive you. "

Patches looks back up at you. " Almost M- Ma'am? "

" Stick your tongue out. "

He does, a rather lengthy magical muscle protruding from that gourd head. You suppose, had you the means to, you'd also give yourself a rather large tongue.

" On the ground. "

The undead makes a face, lowering it as told and likely getting a nasty flavorful of whatever filth has touched the concrete before.

One heel rises, the flat end of your sole perching against his face, the pointed end swiftly descending into that exposed clapper. You make sure to grind it in, sink it, hearing his garbled cries as Patches instinctively tries to retract his tongue. He doesn't know what to do with his own head while trapped like this, the lights in his sockets blurring when tears form around the edges, painting his face.

You don't stop until he's sobbing quietly, shaking yet defeated.

" There we go. I think I can like you again. You're always so obedient... "

Your heel punctured deep enough that you kind of have to give it a shake to release the dullahan's tongue. He makes another pained whine before moving back, holding the damaged muscle as it limply hangs off his wide mouth. It's a tad dirty, but the most striking detail is the hole on top of its flat surface, oozing some kind of thick gel that you can't quite call blood.

He rises awkwardly, back still curved, trying to wipe his own summoned tongue clean before putting it back in his mouth and swallowing his own magic.

" Huh, you could almost pierce it, pumpkin. I bet that'd look good on you. "

And like the flattery-hungry loser he is, Patches smiles faintly through the pain.

Your eyes rake down and find what comes as no surprise. He's already more than hard. In a way, it's kind of better this way, not having to work at all to get him in such a shameful state. You could give Patches a look, and he'd probably begin chubbing in seconds. The problem is keeping it that way, and preventing him from getting excited enough to end things prematurely. Your new pet won't become a disappointment, surely. Not if his discipline continues.

A decently sized cock strains against the tight fabric of his pants, already forming an unsightly patch -Hah- of wetness. You've always liked one thing about him. Well, that's a lie, you enjoy lots of things about Patches. But- The way the prominent veins along his body continue into his endowment is also very pleasing. It makes you want to hurry things along, in spite of your modus operandi of grinding out the maximum potential of every second in these encounters.

" Try not to ruin your pants before we get home, okay sweetie? " You mock. " Did you bring it, by the way? "

The dullahan nods frantically, waving his hands in front of him in a specific pattern that, upon the snap of his index and middle finger, summons forth a collar.

This velvet dark green circle with intricate leaf patterns on its exterior. Two small white jewels frame the silver hoop where the chained leash in your purse attaches. You spent some time designing this beautiful adornment, more time than he deserves really, oh but it's in your nature to be a perfectionist. There were some hiccups. Particularly around the fact that dullahans are apparently frightened by gold... Your first purchase was trashed immediately, needless to say.

Last time you met, Patches had forgotten his collar. This was a grave offense to you, punishable by sharply diminishing his time with you. See, to truly punish this undead, you can't just promise him pain or ruined pleasure, he enjoys those. To upset him, to make consequences tangible, you deny him your time- And it's wonderfully effective!

Exhibit A, Patches has remembered to bring his collar today, after the previous session lasting only half an hour.

" Good boy! Perfect. See? You can learn. " He actually preens at that. " Now put it on. "

When you clip the leash to the monster, he's staring deep into your eyes, sockets pulsing heart-shaped lights as his breath becomes shallow and hot. Oh yeah, he's checking out already.

Good.

" Walk. "

[kangals]

aw your blog is lovely, i just got an 11 week old collie mix and my mate sent me your way. any puppy tips or wisdom to impart? 😊

congrats on the new baby!

collie tips: try to think of the barking as communication - it's easy to get annoyed by it, but i promise they're barking for a reason. even if that reason is just "i'm happy!" "i'm bored!" "there's a person on the sidewalk!" "i want this!" etc... you'll have a much better mental state if you treat it as a conversation instead of a nuisance.

not sure what type of coat your puppy has, but brush them at least 2x a week and shower them with treats during it. do nails weekly too! few things are more obnoxious than a grown-ass dog that throws a tantrum about basic grooming. and long-haired dogs need grooming, so they don't get the option to be fussy about it.

puppy tips in general: now that i'm on my second puppy, i think the entire concept of socialization/exposure training can be boiled down into thus:

put that beast in situations

make the situations fun

and that's really it. just take your puppy out and look for Situations to put them in. visiting the hardware store? boom, you've been placed on a wooden pallet. you are now 1 foot off the ground. yes, kind of weird. here's some treats for being on the pallet. yay! ok moving on. walking past an (empty) playground? i am now walking under a bridge, please follow me. yay, treats for going under low object. there is a scary object (e.g. traffic cone tipped on its side) outside? we are investigating the object. yay, here's some treats for sniffing the object. etc etc etc just over and over ad over. even at home you can make Situations like a cardboard box, or loud noises playing from a speaker, or relaxing in different parts of the house, etc. put your fingers in their nose. toss them in a puddle. i've come to realize that your job as a puppy owner is to just mildly inconvenience your puppy so much that they become totally unphased by it. and that's a much easier to swallow concept for me than anything else lol.

also: Situations can be passive too. make sure they learn how to be bored. chill in a room together by quietly ignoring them. let them learn to figure out how to entertain themselves peacefully. leave them alone regularly. etc.

also @purplesaline is a font of wisdom and has given me very good advice about puppy raising. several times i have asked her about a problem i'm having and been reassured that "yes it's fine, X thing will happen soon" and i think "well surely that can't be right" and then every. time. it does happen and she is correct.

[devirnis]

Okay, after having a few days to process, I am allowing myself one vent post to get it out of my system and then it’s back to ✨positive vibes✨ only

If I see one more goddamn smarmy post about how “the writing was on the wall the whole time” (with the undercurrent of “you were too stupid to see it, I have the only valid interpretation”) I’m going to lose it

Had we not had 8x05, the breakup still would have bummed me out, but I would have said, you know what, fair, we didn’t see a whole lot of their relationship, a lot of it was fanon and headcanons. We had a good run. But we did get 8x05, apparently some of it filmed out of order knowing a breakup was coming, and what was the point? To be cruel? It felt like a slap in the face to people who liked that relationship.

They could have laid some groundwork to show some cracks in the relationship, but no. Ignoring disingenuous interpretations from people who have been rooting for the ship to crash and burn since day one, 8x05 established Buck & Tommy as a solid couple. Tommy gets along with Eddie, the three of them had great chemistry together. Tommy takes care of Buck when he’s hurt. Tommy thinks the curse is a bunch of bs (as does Eddie) but still went with Buck to have a funeral for a mummy. It’s like I watched someone cook an elaborate, delicious dinner for me and then they immediately threw it in the trash, and other people around me made fun of me for being blindsided and upset because I should have seen that coming.

I won’t pretend the general audience is a monolith who all have the same opinions. I’m sure there are people who don’t care and just shrugged their shoulders that another relationship of Buck’s fizzled out. But I have 2 friends who watch the show and aren’t Fandom Fans, and they are always my barometer for how people who don’t have brain rot (affectionate) feel about the show. One really liked the relationship, the other was neutral to mildly negative on it, and both of them agreed that it felt like the breakup came out of nowhere and made no sense given the context of the previous episode. So please stop pretending that it’s only BT fandom fans who have their knickers in a twist about how it played out.

If this isn’t leading to buddie, then I don’t want to see another love interest for either Buck or Eddie for the rest of the show. Tommy had so much potential to break the cycle of Buck’s love interests (and interviews from last season seem to support that they were aware of this and planning on utilizing that) and throwing it away feels like such a waste.

So yeah, instead of being just bummed, I’m pissed. I do not know if there was BTS drama or if Tim got some other grand idea for Buck’s storyline this season — but given how plots are adopted and dropped at rapid fire pace this season (something I was willing to forgive last season because of the shortened production timeline and fewer episodes), I’m highly skeptical that there’s any sort of overarching plan here.

I’ve never thought buddie would actually happen on the show, but I also never thought either Buck or Eddie would ever be anything other than straight, so I’d be happy to be proven wrong. I’m just a little jaded by seeing people doing a victory lap convinced that buddie canon is imminent when I think that they are giving the writers a lot more credit than they deserve for supposedly crafting this epic love story for the last five or so years when a lot of that is also just generous fanon interpretation. I need explicit confirmation within the show by the end of this season that at least one of them has caught feelings or I’m over entertaining the possibility it will actually happen.

I know the joy will come back. But I really hope the same plot lines playing out ad nauseam for every character stops because I’m getting a little tired.

[irisintheafterglow]

Inspired by the photo loving Suguru ✨️🤍

Can I request reader getting mildly injured after a mission, maybe a head bump or a knee scrape, and Suguru suggests getting ice cream with their friends to cheer her up?

hand under my sweatshirt, baby kiss it better

wc: 0.7k

cw/tags: swearing, mild hurt/comfort, angst if you really squint, mostly just fluff and suguru taking care of you

note: HII SWIRRLEY you always have the most fun suguru asks and i love writing them :D nothing like some good ol' character A sitting on a sink while character B cleans up their wound. i hope you like this one !!!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“I’m going to pick Satoru’s eyelashes off one by one for making me cover him, I swear on all things–”

"Shit, the hell happened to you?" He leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, watching you clean up the scrape on your elbow as your legs dangle off the edge of the sink. Your hand unconsciously jerks away when the saturated cotton pad meets the tender flesh and you curse for the umpteenth time under your breath. It was a little ironic, a semi-grade one sorcerer reduced to a swearing, sputtering mess. You flinch again as a stray drop of isopropyl alcohol drips onto the cut and his eyebrows furrow. “You need some help there, Doc?”

“I don’t need your condescension right now, Su,” you mutter, hands shaky and vision blurry from the aching pain on your arm. “Just say ‘I told you so’ and leave me be.”

“There’s a difference between condescension and genuine concern, dear,” he says patiently, crossing the tile in two long strides and plucking the cotton pad from your fingers. “Right now, I’m trying to convey the latter. If anything, I’m gonna kick Satoru’s ass for making you go without me in the first place.” He tosses it into the trash bin before grabbing a washcloth and wetting the corner with warm water. You eye him warily, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he expectantly holds out a hand for you to rest your elbow on. “Well?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to take care of you? Because you got hurt and I want you to feel better?” He states what should be obvious facts to you with an air of exasperation and you frown, turning your face to the side in burning shame. You weren’t used to this, someone caring about your wellbeing after a mission. Sure, Shoko and Satoru liked to pester you about what to eat for dinner as soon as your shoes slipped off, but Suguru was the only one who actually checked to make sure you were okay. “You don’t have to be embarrassed that I see you like this. Heaven knows you’ve seen me at worse,” he quips and your mouth turns up into the slightest smirk. He was right; you’d definitely patched him up more times than you can count on both hands and probably both feet, too. After a few more moments of hesitation, you sit your arm in his palm. 

“Thank you, Su, for–ow, fucking fuck,” you hiss when the cloth meets the scrape and he murmurs an apology under his breath. “So, was the alcohol overkill?”

“A little bit, yeah,” he smiles and it makes your stomach flutter. “It’s okay, though. At least we know you’re not going to get an infection.”

“To be fair, Shoko told me to clean it up with alcohol first.”

“Shoko also told you she plans to cheat on her med school exams,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, much to his entertainment. “I’m just glad I found you before you gripped the counter so hard, it broke.”

“Okay, now who’s being overkill?”

“Doesn’t matter if I am, because I just distracted you long enough to clean up your wound.” He shrugs proudly and you gape at him for a few seconds, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place. Right, he was cleaning up your scrape, but why did you get so distracted with him in such close proximity? “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better,” you admit and he nods in understanding, fingers lightly brushing your skin around where you collided with the rocky concrete. 

“That’s good. Change your clothes and meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes.” He dusts his hands off like he’d performed some sort of life-altering surgery, tossing the dirty towel over his shoulder and heading for the door. 

“Huh?” You think you’re still slightly delirious and imagining his words. 

“Let’s go get ice cream with Shoko and Satoru, my treat,” he calls over his shoulder, shooting you a grin that makes your legs turn to jelly. “You definitely deserve it.” Hopping down from the sink, you jokingly shout down the hallway after him and he waves his hand dismissively.

“Are you in love with me, Geto Suguru?”  

“Something like that!” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[passionateseadruid]

I am loved! I am loved!

Few things: Tad bit of Misogyny (Adam, kinda Lucifer), swearing (almost everyone), Sera, Slander (Lucifer and Lilith), extermination talk, bad people mentioned

sequel to this

Me and my husband, we are doing better.

Or at least that’s how I feel.

It had been a few centuries since you’ve been married and it seems like he’s been more tense lately. You thought to take him out to for lunch.

“Adam! Sweetheart?” You opened the door of the conference room that a small light blue elephant cherub had directed you toward. He had come with you. “Thank you silver.”

“Babe! C’mere!” Adam motioned you over. “Listen Sera my baby agrees with this.”

“Darling? Do you?”

“I completely agree with my husband. What am I agreeing with?”

“Adam thinks that it’s a good idea to kill off some of the worst sinners in hell.”

“…Adam?”

“Yeah because you’ve been spewing nonsense about the whore with some mildly entertaining curves trying to overthrow us with those sinners.”

“Her husband had a smaller waist and wider hips than she does.” You and him wheezed at that.

“True! Oh ho ho,” he panted from laughing too hard. “And this is why I love you, honey.”

“Um… so what was his idea Sera?” You asked bashfully. Adam had never publicly stated his love for you. Sure he was touchy-feely but he always blamed that on his high sex-drive when asked.

“Adam wants to train an army to kill certain sinners.”

“Only the really bad ones, like the ones we talked about.” Adam assured.

“Like the people harming children? Or those that sexually abused others?” You asked.

“Yeah! Or the really really bad killers who just slaughter tons of innocent people for no reason other than that they can!”

“Yeah Sera I agree. Not all of the souls down there would have to get involved.” You reasoned.

“No, course not.” Adam agreed.

“I don’t know, darling.” Sera looked at you both apprehensively.

“Sera, you know that people like that do not deserve to live. It was only because of Lucifer that they exist! And it is because of him that they get to roam freely!” You asserted, anger grew in you as the seconds passed thinking about Lucifer.

“…okay.”

“But! Just the very bad ones.” You warned.

“Course! I may be a “misogynist” or whatever but I’m not a monster.”

“Do you want to go get burritos now?” You grabbed his hand.

“Fuck yeah! See you later Sera!” He tossed you over his shoulder and slapped your ass.

////////////////////////////////////////

It had been a few months and Sera arranged a meeting with Lucifer.

“Sera! Please make him bring Lilith!”

“Why on earth would you want that?”

“Because then Adam and I can show them that we don’t care about them!”

“Ugh, please don’t be so immature.”

“Please Sera! Please please please!”

“Okay okay! Just don’t be upset if he doesn’t care. And don’t interrupt the meeting okay?”

“Thank you Sera!!”

////////////////////////////////////////

The day of the meeting you had picked out matching outfits for you and Adam. White robes with gold accents. You had gold jewelry in the shape of crosses. And you slipped on your wedding ring with the biggest diamond you’d (or anyone’d ever seen).

“Adam sweetheart! Cmon!”

“Babe why do we have to go?” Adam whined.

“The Morningstars will be there. Don’t you want to show them up?”

“…yes.”

“Come on then! You big baby.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Adam.”

////////////////////////////////////////

“What the fuck are they doing here?!” Lucifer shouted.

“Calm down Lucifer. Darling here overseas humanity.” Sera calmly explained.

“Why did you have to mess up all of humanity?” You glared at the two.

“And Adam was the one who came up with the idea.”

“Yeah bitch!”

“Okay… then why are they on Adam’s lap?” Lilith asked.

“Because we’re married?” You said.

“WHAT?!” The two exclaimed.

“Yeah! I can steal your bitch too Luci.”

“Hey…” You pouted at Adam.

“Don’t take it to heart! You know I think you’re a badass bitch!” He nuzzled your neck and gave you a little peck.

“Can we please just get this over with?” Lucifer asked Annoyed.

////////////////////////////////////////

After the meeting Lucifer cornered you. “You may think you’re special because you got into the pants of the first man; but you’re not. You’re just some freak with pretty privilege and that’s all you’ll ever be!”

“…” You smile. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I-” He just stood there stuttering like an idiot.

You purposely brushed his shoulder and said, “Keep dreaming that you could ever have this.” Not looking back as you strutted down the hall to find your husband.

“Get your hands off me!” You heard him scream. “I love my baby and you aren’t going to change that Lilith.”

“I’m sorry are we going to have a problem here?” You walked in.

“Of course not babe. The Morningstars are just trying to stir up drama.” He came over to you and you wrapped your arms around his.

“How well I know.” You turn back. “Lil, step off my man and try to get a hold on your for a change.”

‘Yes me and my husband, we are doing better.’

Taglist: @pandaquick (I am so sorry I forgot😭 would you like to be added to my new series tag list?)

[justenjoythegossip]

A LOT OF CHRIS’ RECENT PR ISSUES ACTUALLY FALLS ON HIM…

I won’t go as far as some plants from Team Middle/Real who have defended the unfamous talent agency as CAA has proved to be as shady as it gets and that’s putting it mildly but a lot of Chris’ current issues PR wise can be attributed to his own doing and likely input. And I am not even talking about the fact that Chris has signed off on all of this PR rebranding and the tactics used to achieve it since he is the client and actually pays for their expertise and services.

The cringe and alienating content they shoved down our throats…

Some people have drawn the parallel between Chris and Alba’s shitshow with Seb’s former shitshow with Ale, and rightfully so. As clearly, CAA’s stamp is all over some of the content they shoved down our throats. Here are a few examples of pictures that show all the similarities.

However I would argue that the scare videos were very probably Chris and Scott’s idea. And it sure was a good idea originally. During Covid, so many celebrities were desperate to stay in the public eye and their scare videos were a cute way to get some good attention as this banter between two siblings living together during hard times was quite entertaining. At least it was for a while until it felt quite forced. It is still puzzling to me that anyone (Chris?) thought it would be a good idea to have him do the same thing with Alba. As if the dynamic between 2 romantic partners resembled the dynamic existing between two siblings? How didn’t anyone say that the optics of an immature middle aged man play silly games with his teenage looking girlfriend were not only atrocious but humiliating for both participants? And the general public deserved a lot better than this horrifying & badly acted spectacle that turned a lot of people against them right from the start.

The duplicity of playing the victim card to feed the discourse/save face with his fans

I have already talked about this aspect profusely in several posts including these:

Chris has been more than complicit in the little games that has been played at the expense of his fans. He might genuinely dislike her or be depressed but obviously he is an actor and he CAN act. And he did manage to do a much better job at selling their relationship at the Vanity Fair party for their debut when he wanted to for example. So of course, it’s safe to assume he has not only tried to feed the discourse but also tried to gain sympathy from his fans as he has looked purposefully miserable to the point where it was over the top. Do people remember the first pap pictures that were released when he was on the set of The Materialists? He looked so down, sour and miserable but it was short-lived as he then looked ridiculously happy and was smiling from ear to ear and laughing on the barrage of onset pictures we got afterwards. Ad nauseum I should add, which also shows how curated and manufactured it all was.

Side note: I believe that the backlash would not have been this extensive if Chris and Alba had both tried to sell the puppy love better but I suspect the relationship between them was always designed and meant to be controversial to give Chris some much needed edge. I might develop this aspect in another post. 

The crisis of the signing of the inert object and the disastrous PR response

The crisis that resulted from John Cusack posting the picture of Chris signing an inert object was poorly handled to say the least and I suspect it falls exclusively on Chris, for the sole reason that a PR firm would have never handled that crisis in the way that it was done. 

PR 101 tells us the steps you need to take when it comes to handling a PR crisis: acknowledge the issue, own it, apologize for it and then promise a better future. There was none of that here and I suspect it was because Chris didn’t want to apologize as he felt he had done nothing wrong. I won’t discuss his merits as it’s totally irrelevant but I will say that he should have kept quiet if he truly felt that way. 

Because in the PR world, lame-ass apologies are worse than no apology. When the wife of a senate candidate rebuffs antisemitic claims by saying that one of their attorneys is a Jew… well, how can I put it? Not helpful! Drew Barrymore’s crying video after crossing the picket line? Not helpful and deleted! Ashton and Mila Kunis’ apology after defending convicted rapist and scientologist Masterson? Not helpful! However she is about to make a comeback in Knives Out 3 because this is Hollywood and nobody cares if you are a monster or a monster apologist.

To go back to Chris, he should have kept quiet about this issue because he not only drew more attention to the controversy but he also put even more emphasis on what he didn’t apologize for: his silence after being so vocal politically speaking and the backlash he received for associating with Nazis. Not a smart move.

And I suspect CAA did their best to help him by creating a much needed distraction as they basically sacrificed the movie The Materialists for good PR for Chris and Dakota, by releasing an unheard and unseen amount of onset pictures. 

[ask-turnedtechgodhead]

this thing on

fuck yes aight check this shit out-

DAVE, I'VE BEGRUDGINGLY COME TO UNDERSTAND THAT STANDING IN A CORNER ALONE SPEWING THE TYPE OF NONSENSICAL BABBLE ONE MIGHT EXPECT FROM A WRIGGLER IS WHAT PASSES FOR ENTERTAINMENT IN YOUR EMPTY THINK PAN.

I'VE EVEN BEGUN TO APPRECIATE IT, IF ONLY BECAUSE WE NEEDED *SOMETHING* TO FILL THE AGONISINGLY LONG SWEEP WE WERE STUCK ON THAT OTHERWISE SILENT AND YET SOMEHOW JUST AS MISERABLE FUCKING ROCK HURTLING THROUGH SPACE TOWARDS CERTAIN DEATH. BUT WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING SHIT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH THAT BULBOUS FUCKING OVERGROWTH JAMMED AGAINST YOUR RIDICULOUS EYEWEAR?

damn man i thought we covered this in our human tech 101 lessons. its a camera- I KNOW ITS A CAMERA. I WAS TRYING TO LOWER MYSELF TO YOUR LEVEL SO THAT MAYBE YOU WOULD DECIDE TO GRACE ME WITH YOUR ATTENTION AND ACTUALLY LISTEN TO WHAT I HAD TO SAY. try harder SHUT UP. AND ANSWER THE QUESTION. how the hell am i supposed to answer the question if im shutting up? cant have it both ways bro. cant just have your cake and eat it too you either eat that bitch or shut your mouth forever and starve to death- HOLY SHIT WE BOTH KNOW YOU AREN'T GOING TO SHUT UP EITHER WAY. COULD YOU AT LEAST DO ME THE MERCY OF TELLING ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING BEFORE I DROWN IN THE PUTRID STREAM OF BULLSHIT CASCADING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH?

documentary CARE TO EXPAND UPON THAT? OR AM I NOT WORTHY ENOUGH TO GET MORE THAN ONE WORD OUT OF YOU? SHOULD I BE PROSTRATING BEFORE YOU THANKING YOU FOR DEIGNING TO GRACE ME WITH ONE WORD FROM YOUR TIGHT ASS LIPS? 'DOCUMENTARY'. TRULY A HOLY WORD. RELIGIONS WILL FORM AROUND THIS ONE WORD, DAVE. HOLY BOOKS WILL BE WRITTEN ABOUT THOSE ELEVEN LETTERS. TODAY WILL BE CELEBRATED NOT AS THE DAY WE CREATED A NEW UNIVERSE, NO- TODAY WILL BE FOREVER MARKED AS THE DAY DAVE FUCKING STRIDER SAID 'DOCUMENTARY'-

AND GET THAT FUCKING THING OUT OF MY FACE YOU NOOKWHIFFER

holy shit check it out im being censored already

karkat do you support censorship

is this what this is karkat

is this where we find out that this entire session has been your master plan to create a new world for you to go stalin on its ass

because dude im so down to create some propaganda for supreme leader vantases glorious reign

just let me finish this shit first cmon man

HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO AGREE TO THAT WHEN I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT 'THIS SHIT' IS?

i told you man

IF YOU SAY DOCUMENTARY I SWEAR-

documentary

about the creation of the new universe

no big deal or nothing just thought it could be mildly interesting to get on camera

idk ill probably tape over it later for some shitty sitcom rerun

do you think theyll have the simpsons on the new planet

god i hope they do

AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT IS.

troll the simpsons

YOU CAN'T JUST PUT 'TROLL' IN FRONT OF SOME PANDEAD EARTH THING AND EXPECT ME TO KNOW WHAT IT IS AND HONESTLY, I'M DOWNRIGHT FUCKING INSULTED THAT YOU'D THINK THAT ALTERNIA HAD ANYTHING EVEN REMOTELY COMPARABLE TO YOUR EYEGOUGING EXCUSES FOR 'MEDIA'. MY PLANET ACTUALLY HAD STANDARDS, UNLIKE YOUR MISERABLE PILE OF DIRT.

says the guy that was responsible for that pile of dirt

and didnt even record its creation

imagine being an absent father to a whole universe karkat. what the fuck man

thank god im here to break the cycle of abuse

OH, I'M SORRY I COULDN'T RECORD YOUR WASTE OF SPACE PLANET BEING CREATED - I WAS TOO BUSY NEARLY GETTING MURDERED BY THE MURDERBEAST *YOU*-

oh shit idiot shuts up now

thats you youre the idiot

STRIDER I SWEAR TO FUCK

dude seriously shut up

hes doing it man

hes making it hapen

=>

[lenaboskow]

I genuinely didn't want to interact with your blog because I don't want negativity on mine but it keeps showing with increasingly concerning takes (even though I keep saying not interested). All I want to say is that you really might need to re-evaluate the reasons you claim to hate both Lou and Tommy for.

This isn't meant to be hateful at all. In fact I am not even trying to sway you to ship BT or telling you what to do at all. I am just saying that your hate seemingly only stemming from wanting your ship to happen and looking for everything to confim your already existing bias. I wish you to have a good time in the fandom and indulge in whatever you want just genuinely don't understand why would you ruin your own experience by being so hell-bent on one take and never even considering anything else.

(Ps: I am a BT shipper who watched the show for four years ig and never shipped Buddie just because I couldn't see it.

Pss: It's no coincidence that every LI of Buck (of both imo) got hate and It's no coincidence who are dishing it)

people not wanting hate on their blogs is why i keep anon asks open (plus the occasional entertainment)

i don't really hate lou i just mildly dislike him right now because of the cameos (reminds me too much of jkr and how she keeps adding onto the story after canon has been done for years). tommy, however.... yeah i hate him.

i don't think this has come up in a minute but the only reason i don't ship bucktommy is because of tommy's character. nothing to do with buddie going canon or anything. my pinned post (which needs updating for the bachelor party and medal ceremony) explains a little bit about that, but the tldr is that i don't believe he's really changed from how he acted in hen and chimney begins. he's just less racist/sexist now and more overall dickish (again see the pinned post for explanation).

if buddie never gets together, fine. but at least give the boys interesting and non problematic li. taylor actually had chemistry with buck until they ruined her character. eddie doesn't have chemistry with anyone except his dead wife who he's romantacizing his relationship with. and felicia.