#i need some serious glamour

[capsensislagamoprh]

I just finished the entire companies taxes and got them last minute filed because SOMEONE is a DUMB ASS and my GAWDS I need to STAB CESAR! also some YoI RP or something. My brain is so math fried.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hiii! since you requested bucky thoughts, since his resurgence i’ve been thinking of him and a shy!reader? like maybe he takes her to some sort of avengers charity gala and helps her with her nerves and anxiousness with all the people? love your work:))

oh this is so cute!!! I did change it a bit so they're at a kind of government related party but it's very vague, but that's it!

“Hiding from everyone?” Bucky whispers behind you making you jolt where you stand, your body shielded by two corners that crest a perfect blind spot. 

You hadn’t heard him because you were busy chewing on the skin around your nails and scanning the Justice Hall for people you knew. 

“Bucky you can’t do that.” You slap at his chest, and he chuckles. 

Your heart’s already beating a thousand miles per minute, any more nervousness and you’re sure you’ll pass out. 

He smiles, shaking his head as he leans against the wall. 

“You can’t stay up here forever, doll. They’re going to come looking for you.” 

Your body stills, eyes wide as you look up at Bucky. There’s some small part of you that hopes he’s exaggerating, but the other part of you knows he’s being so totally serious you’re worried you’ll get hives from the anxiety that builds in you. 

Bucky doesn’t let you spiral too far, “Or, I can be your date and show you off so everyone sees your pretty face and doesn’t come looking for you.” 

That’s another thing that gives you anxiety. Bucky’s very free with his compliments of you, though you’ve hardly done anything to earn them. 

He calls you ‘pretty’ or ‘doll’ and when he’s in a very flirty mood, he’ll call you his girl which makes you feel just as you imagine butter on a warm day.

He notices every reaction too, he knows when you can take his over the top flirting and when you just need a simple but effective, ‘how’s my girl today?’ 

You’re not together, or dating, Bucky just likes you and you’re too shy to take any of his advances seriously. He’s trying though, to make you realise that he’s very committed to the possibility of you and him. You’re running out of reasons to brush off his advances and you’re sure with all his super enhancements he can tell that you’re just as infatuated with him as he is with you. 

“Bucky,” 

He only shakes his head and holds out his arm for you. “I won’t leave you to fend for yourself, what sort’a gentleman would I be?” 

You mumble under your breath and thanks to his super hearing he makes it out, ‘This can’t be gentlemanly,’  but he doesn’t want to embarrass you further so he says nothing. You hook your arm through his, and Bucky smiles. 

Bucky takes measured steps to get you both back to the glitz and the glamour of the party in full swing, he doesn’t say much of anything, but you feel a little less anxious knowing he’s with you. 

“Breathe doll,” he whispers as the people come into view and you seize up where you stand. 

You’re trying, but there’s so many of them here and they’re going to want to know something about the project you’re working on, and that makes you scared. 

You don’t want to have to speak to any of them or endure their never ending questions that come across so condescending that your skin itches. 

“I don’t think I can do this, Bucky.” You feel like the walls are closing in around you just standing there and Bucky’s quick to notice when your breath rattles.

Your breathing is shallow and sharp, your hand squeezing Bucky’s arm hard. He doesn’t flinch or say anything, he lets you squeeze his hand as he looks for another secluded area. 

When he does, Bucky’s quick but gentle as he leads you into the cove of two walls. You’re starting to get pale and it worries him more than he cares to reveal.

“Hey,” he uses his vibranium arm to press into the skin of your neck, knowing that the coolness of it will help focus you a little. His voice is sharp but it helps snap you out of your panic a little.

Bucky presses his other arm on your chest, “I’m right here, gorgeous. Focus on me, yeah?” 

You nod, but your eyes are unfocused as Bucky guides your chin upwards. 

“Doll, you’re gonna have to take a breath unless you wanna pass out right here.” He’s terrified of you actually doing that, but the ease in his voice makes you gasp on what he hopes is a laugh and then you take a breath. 

“Good,” Bucky demonstrates a few till you can take deep lungfuls of air without his prompting. “That’s good, baby.” 

When you’ve calmed a little, Bucky gets you to catch his gaze and gives you a little smile. “Want something to drink?” 

You shake your head, not wanting Bucky to leave just yet. “Just wanna stay here for a little bit.” 

Bucky can’t help it, “Want me all to yourself, doll?” When you sputter he smiles, “You didn’t have to have an anxiety attack for that.” his hand cups your cheek, stroking your cheek as your face heats. 

“Bucky,” it’s all you can manage and he smiles, a little dimple poking through his beard.

He takes a peak out of the corner and finds one of the senators looking for him. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll bring you something to drink, I promise.” 

Bucky doesn’t move until you nod, and even then he doesn’t let you go until he’s pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You stay in your hideaway till he comes back, and when he does it’s with a glass of water. 

“How’s my girl?” he asks as he comes closer, tie discarded and hair a little more disheveled as a few strands caress his forehead. 

You scowl but accept the water, “M’better.” Bucky’s grin stretches his entire face, lighting his eyes. Bucky presses a hand to your neck, feeling your pulse and finding it slow, it lingers there for a moment and as he pulls away, little goosebumps erupt on your arms.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, shucking off his jacket and placing it over your shoulders when he notices them. 

You look up at him mid sip, “But I haven’t spoken to anyone.”

Bucky shrugs, “I may have said that you’re coming down with something and are possibly contagious.”

Your eyes widened in shock, “And they believed I’d go home with you.”

Bucky’s smile is impish, “We can’t get enough of each other doll, what do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, and gesture for Bucky to escort you. 

Halfway to his car he asks, “What about dinner? There’s a really nice place that serves that pasta you like.”

You’re a little shocked Bucky remembers the pasta you like, but you can’t help but smile. 

“Sure, but I’m paying. As a thank you.”

He opens the door for you and scoffs, “I’d love to see you try that, doll.”

[endless-ineffabilities]

my man of the year

Ewan Mitchell x girlfriend!reader

a/n: just a little something for the Ewan girlies, because in this GQ party, we are all fam 💙

main masterlist

You attend the GQ Men of the Year 2024 party with your boyfriend.

You watch in admiration as Davey makes the final tweaks to Ewan's outfit for the event—a suit tailored to perfection, its velvet material snug against his lean form. A classic piece, but sporting some eccentricities that have become essential in the Mitchell-Sutton style partnership.

The velvet suit, not in the usual black or blue, also has a textured high notch and lapels, making him look like some kind of an 80s-flick vampire.

Your gaze sweeps from his polished shoes up to his face, finding that he's watching you in the reflection as he stands in front of the mirror.

He tries turning around to see you better, causing Davey's hand to fall from his shoulder as he was pinning something in place. "Ewan, mate. Save the ogling for later, yeah? Let me finish this first."

Ewan sighs dramatically, like a kid who's been asked to stand in the corner. "Okay."

You giggle softly, shaking your head at the scene. "Ewan, listen to Davey now."

You share a look with Davey, knowing smiles on your lips. Ewan, am I right?

"I just want to look at my girlfriend," Ewan complains.

"Look at me?" you question. "Look at you, handsome! You're my man of the year, every damn year."

"C'mere, babe."

"Ewan, don't move until Davey—."

"I won't move. But come here and give me a kiss."

"Fine." You get up from your comfortable position on the seat. Might as well oblige your boyfriend, the GQ honouree. Just the thought of it makes you so giddy with pride.

Rising onto your tiptoes, you rest your chin gently on his shoulder, batting your eyelashes as he leans his head against yours.

"There's my girl," he purrs, wrapping his free arm around your waist and Davey works on the sleeve on the other.

Then he kisses you, mindful to stay perfectly still. Only his lips move, pillowy as they caress yours. You would have to reapply your lipstick after this.

When he cheekily snakes his tongue out, you pull back, giving him an incredulous shake of your head. "Stand down, handsome."

"Oh, don't worry about me, sweetheart," Davey reassures you. "Maybe we should let Ewan have his way. Poor guy looks like he's about to explode."

You all share a laugh.

A minute later, he's all ready. Davey snaps photos of him alone, then shifts to capture the two of you together. He even manages a few that feel like classic prom poses, with Ewan's arms around you from behind.

The rest of the night is a blur of lights and glamour, and the warmth of Ewan's hand on your back quells your nerves as you step onto the red carpet.

The cameras are everywhere, a sea of flashes and shouting for you to, look here, look here!

Ewan keeps you close the entire time, steering you through it all. You can feel that he's anxious too but he's a steady presence by your side. He used to need a crutch like cigarettes or gum to deal with the chaos of such public events, but when you're with him, the noise is silenced.

It's just you and him against the world.

When his arm tightens around you, you jokingly remark, "Didn't peg you for the clingy type, babe."

He glances down, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Just making sure you don't run off with some other dashing celebrity."

An idea pops up in your head. He makes it all too easy. You let out a shaky gasp, "Wait, is that Pedro Pascal over there?"

"Where?" he asks sharply, distracted.

"By the big GQ sign. Don't make it obvious, though!" you whisper, as if you're entirely serious.

He squints, scanning the sea of people coming through the red carpet, until he realizes… there's no Pedro. Not yet, at least.

He turns to you with a playful glare, his mouth twitching with the hint of a smile. "You think you're funny, don't you, baby?"

You give your best wide-eyed, innocent look. "Who, me?"

"You're asking for it," he whispers close to your ear so the cameras don't catch it.

You only laugh as he pulls you closer, giving your waist another possessive squeeze.

"And what exactly are you gonna do about it?" you ask.

"Guess you'll have to find out after we're done here."

When he kisses you, you both know that the resulting pictures are going to flood the gossip sites, fan pages, and everything in between as soon as the next day. But neither of you care.

He makes sure that there's no mistaking who he came with that night.

And you would never tire of showing everyone just who your boyfriend is. You could scream it from the rooftops.

He doesn't need GQ to tell him he's one of the honourees of the year.

All he needs is you by his side to feel like he's truly won.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Diahann Carroll (Paris Blues, Carmen Jones, Porgy and Bess)— Face of an angel. She had the range. She brought chemistry with every romance she portrayed. She also had a great fashion sense, and was so pretty Mattel made a doll based off of her.

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Diahann Carroll:

Another groundbreaking black actress, although she might be better remembered for her television roles. She was also an activist and worked with charities to support women in need.

here she is hanging out with shadow prince anthony perkins :3

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

[mahalachives]

Part 3: Plot? I Don’t Know Her. But Azriel Does.

Summary: You were just rereading A Court of Thorns and Roses in bed when the universe decided to yeet you straight into Prythian, landing face-first in Rhysand’s lap. Now, you're a pajama-clad disaster with Cheeto fingers, emotionally harassing Azriel, befriending Mor, verbally sparring with the High Lords, and naming feral chickens after the Shadowsinger. You may not know why you’re here, but one thing’s for sure: you’re going to make it everyone's problem.

Oops, I tripped Into Prythian - Masterlist

Elain blinked up at you from the velvet armchair, A Court of Mist and Fury open in her lap.

Her voice was calm. Too calm. “What’s… fanfic?”

Everyone turned.

You grinned.

Rhysand whispered, “Cauldron boil me.”

Cassian perked up, excited like a toddler about to learn a new swear word. “Yeah, what is fanfic?”

Mor leaned forward. “Wait, is it like… stories? About us?”

You clasped your hands together. “Oh, sweet summer children. Fanfiction is the sacred art of writing stories about fictional people doing things they should have done but didn’t. It is love. It is chaos. It is 300,000-word slow burns and 1,000-word smutty drabbles written at 2 a.m. with tears and snacks.”

Azriel, from his shadowy corner, muttered, “That sounds… excessive.”

You turned, eyes gleaming. “Azriel. My broody bat. My tragic Victorian husband. There are millions of words written about you.”

He blinked. “Why.”

Cassian leaned forward. “Yeah, why?”

You smirked. “Because, my dear Illyrian himbo, some of us are emotionally unstable and project our issues onto mysterious males with wings and trauma.”

Rhysand slowly slid to the floor. “We’re in hell.”

“Oh no,” you corrected, pulling out your phone (yes, Helion glamour-spelled it to work in Prythian, bless that man). “We’re in AO3.”

Feyre frowned. “AO3?”

“Archive of Our Own,” you said, reverently. “Where the smut flows freely and the plot is optional.”

Elain tilted her head. “What kind of stories do they write?”

You hesitated. “Well, Elain, how comfortable are you with the phrase ‘knife kink’?”

Feyre made a noise. Rhysand choked on air. Azriel just left the room.

Cassian gasped. “Wait. I have a kink?”

You grinned. “Oh, honey. You have several.”

Nesta covered her face. “I hate this. I hate everything.”

Mor was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “I love this.”

You scrolled through your phone, tapping furiously. “Okay. Okay. Listen to this summary: ‘Azriel x Reader. Hurt/comfort. Enemies to lovers. She breaks his nose with a pan. They kiss in the rain.’”

There was a pause.

Then Cassian said, “...Was that based on a true story?”

You looked up. “Not yet.”

You kept scrolling. “Here’s another: ‘Azriel has a pet cat named Murder. Reader is a librarian with anger issues. They fall in love after he gets banned from the library for brooding too loud.’”

Feyre burst out laughing.

Rhysand crawled behind the couch. “Stop. I’m begging.”

You kept going. “Ooh! Here’s a spicy one: ‘The Shadowsinger has needs… and she is willing.’”

Azriel re-entered the room, heard that, and immediately turned around and left again.

“AZRIEL, WAIT,” you called after him. “I HAVE A MODERN AU WHERE YOU’RE A BARISTA WITH TATTOOS WHO SECRETLY WRITES POETRY!”

He did not come back.

Cassian was now on the floor again, wheezing. “Please. Please read more. Do I have any?”

You nodded solemnly. “You are the people’s himbo.”

He looked proud. “I don’t know what that means, but I accept it.”

Nesta was reading over your shoulder now, silently mouthing the phrase ‘tail kink?’ before looking at Cassian like he had explaining to do.

Cassian winked. “It’s canon.”

You turned to Elain, who was quietly reading a fic on your phone titled “Sunlight and Shadows: An Elriel Fanfic.”

She looked up at you, expression oddly serious. “Do… do they all want us together?”

You hesitated. “Uh. Yes. But also… no. Some people ship you with Lucien. Some ship you with Azriel. Some ship you with that one flower you picked in Chapter Twelve.”

Rhysand peeked over the couch. “...Do I have fanfics?”

You gave him a long look. “Rhysand, people have written smut where you turn into a literal shadow tentacle monster.”

He stared.

Feyre slowly turned to look at him.

Rhysand vanished with a soft whoosh of darkness.

“Every time I think we’ve reached peak chaos,” Mor said, “you raise the bar.”

Nesta was now flipping through your phone, face unreadable. “...You said there’s a fanfic where I murder Beron with a hairpin and then make out with Cassian on the throne of flames?”

You nodded. “It has over 80,000 kudos.”

She smiled. “I’d read that.”

“I’d live that,” Cassian said.

You leaned back, grinning like the menace you were. “So. Weekly book club. We alternate between canon and fanfic. Bonus points for smut.”

“Seconded,” Mor said.

“Thirded,” Cassian added.

Elain nodded. “I’m in.”

Feyre shrugged. “Sure.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes at Cassian. “Fine. But only if you read them out loud.”

Cassian paled. “Wait- what?”

Azriel’s voice echoed from the hallway. “I will set this house on fire.”

And you?

You curled up in a pile of pillows, heart full of chaos and questionable taste in fiction, and whispered, “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.”

To be continued...

(Next time: Azriel accidentally reads a smut fic about himself and questions the very fabric of reality.)

[verstappenf1lecccc]

“Trust, Love, and Protection”

Warnings-: unwanted advances unwanted touching!

protective and supportive toto with a hint of fluff otherwise this is angst and is based off a serious topic.

The bright lights of the Las Vegas Grand Prix were blinding as they illuminated the night sky. The buzz of excitement filled the air, a constant hum of engines roaring, the thrill of high-speed racing, and the glitter of Hollywood flashing in the distance. It was a weekend of glitz and glamour, and everyone was there — from international celebrities to famous athletes and high-powered figures in the racing world.

But for her, standing on the edge of it all with her husband, Toto Wolff, and their son, Jack, the overwhelming attention was starting to feel more suffocating than exciting.

While Toto had always been protective of her, there was something about the sheer number of admirers at the Las Vegas GP that made her uneasy.

The fact that her husband was such a high-profile figure in the Formula 1 world meant that all eyes were constantly on their family.

That, in itself, wouldn’t have been a problem, but the way some people particularly certain men looked at her made her skin crawl.

As the evening wore on, she found herself growing increasingly uncomfortable.

She was used to the occasional lingering glance, but tonight, it seemed as if every other person was trying to catch her eye.

She could feel the weight of their gazes, like fingers brushing her skin, and it made her want to shrink into herself.

She had been trying to keep it together, to put on a brave face for her husband, who was occupied with the team, the sponsors, and the whirlwind of the weekend.

She wanted to be supportive.

She wanted to enjoy the moment.

But it was hard when so many men were treating her like a trophy on display rather than a person.

Her discomfort reached its peak when an actor a D-list one at that approached her.

He was slurring slightly, clearly tipsy, with an overbearing grin on his face as he leaned too close.

“Hey, you’re Toto’s wife, right? You’re even more hot and slutty up close,” he said, his voice dripping with lust.

She forced a smile, trying to be polite, but his hand brushed against hers.

She instinctively pulled back, but he wasn’t having it.

He leaned in too close, his hand now resting on her waist in a way that felt far too intimate. She stiffened.

“I’ve seen you around,” he continued, oblivious to her growing unease.

Her stomach turned.

She opened her mouth to say something to tell him to back off but just as she did, the crowd around them shifted, and she couldn’t spot Toto anywhere.

“Don’t be shy, darling,” the actor continued, his eyes scanning her in a way that made her want to shrink into herself.

“You know, I always thought you were more beautiful in person. Maybe we should hang out sometime, just the two of us, I’ve got a big hotel room booked if you get what I’m saying”.

Her pulse quickened.

She felt trapped, helpless.

As the actor’s hand slid a little too low on her back, her body tensed with disgust.

She could feel her skin crawling, and all she wanted was for Toto to show up and pull her away from the situation.

“I’m sorry, I think I need to go check on Jack,” she said, her voice a little too tight.

The actor blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback, but he quickly raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright, no harm done.”

The discomfort was still there, the feeling of being objectified, of being looked at as something to be taken, not cherished.

She wished she could just disappear, wished that Toto could take her away from all of this.

She quickly found Jack, who was standing by the barriers, playing with his toy car, quietly observing everything.

He was unusually quiet, which was strange for the usually lively little boy.

He looked up at his mother, his innocent eyes full of concern.

“Mummy, you okay?” Jack looked up at her, sensing something was off.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” she lied, kneeling down beside him, forcing a smile she didn’t feel.

“Just a little tired.”

But Jack wasn’t convinced.

His sharp eyes were always able to tell when something was wrong.

After all he was his father’s son and always knew when something was up with his mother. As she stood up, he grabbed her hand, his little fingers curling around hers.

“You don’t look okay, Mommy,” he said softly, his voice full of concern.

“Are you sad? Did something happen you can trust me mummy I won’t tell I swear” his little voice spoke.

Y/N blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the wave of emotion that suddenly washed over her.

She forced herself to smile at him, but it felt hollow, like the weight of the world had pressed down on her chest.

Jack tilted his head, clearly not buying it.

“Mommy, why do you look like you are going to cry?” he asked, his tiny voice filled with confusion. “Did someone make you sad?”

Toto had been nearby, talking to a few sponsors, but as soon as he heard Jack’s voice and looked between his son and his wife, noticing the subtle shift in her demeanour.

His own heart tightened as Y/N’s smile wavered, the cracks showing through as the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over.

He hurried over to them, his face a mask of concern.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, his deep voice soft yet filled with urgency.

Before she could answer, Jack spoke up, his innocent words piercing through the air.

“That man, Mommy he made you cry. That actor.”

Toto’s expression darkened immediately.

He looked at her, hurt flashing in his eyes. “What actor?”

Her eyes widened.

She hadn’t meant for Jack to say anything. She’d hoped to shield Toto from what had happened.

“I—” she began, but her voice faltered.

Toto’s gaze never left her, his concern growing more intense. “What happened? Who was it?”

His protective instinct kicked in.

He hadn’t known she’d been dealing with uncomfortable advances all night, and the thought of someone making her feel this way especially in front of their son drove him to the edge of fury.

She looked away, trying to avoid his gaze, but he cupped her face gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Tell me, darling. I need to know.”

Jack was still holding her hand, now glancing up at his father, sensing the tension in the air.

“It was that actor… the one who kept touching her, Daddy,” Jack added, voice small but firm.

Toto’s jaw tightened. He turned back to his wife, his voice lower now, softer.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” “Don’t hide from me, darling,” he said softly. “Tell me what happened.”

“I didn’t want to cause a scene, Toto,” she whispered, her voice shaking as the emotions she’d been bottling up came to the surface.

“I didn’t want to start any drama. I just… I wanted to get away from him.”

Toto’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts roaring to life once again.

He gently kissed her forehead before looking down at their son.

“Jack, go with your aunt, okay? I need to talk to Mommy.” Jack, sensing the gravity of the situation, nodded quietly and ran off to join their family friend, not fully understanding but sensing his mother’s distress.

Toto didn’t waste a moment. He pulled Y/N close again, his arms enveloping her tightly as he held her against his chest.

Toto’s heart broke at the vulnerability in her voice.

His hand gently wiped away her tears, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

“Darling,” he said softly, “I trust you, I just don’t trust them. You’re my everything, and no one-no one —should make you feel this way.”

She gave him a small, sad smile, trying to hold back the tears.

Toto stepped forward, pulling her into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured against her hair, rubbing her back in slow, soothing motions.

But the tears didn’t stop. Y/N’s sobs were quiet but heavy, the kind that you couldn’t hold back anymore, no matter how hard you tried.

Y/N hiccupped through her tears, trying to compose herself, but the feeling of being violated, of being treated like an object, wouldn’t leave her.

Toto gently cupped her face, tilting her chin so she would look up at him.

“You don’t have to protect anyone but yourself, darling,” Toto said, his voice firm but gentle.

“I’ll make sure we leave this place as soon as you’re ready. You don’t have to be here if it doesn’t feel right.”

She let out a shuddering breath, the weight of the night lifting slightly as she melted into his embrace. Toto was her safe place. His love was her anchor.

“You know that jealousy doesn’t suit you,” she said, voice quiet. Toto chuckled softly, kissing the top of her head. “I like to see you smile more, not cry.”

Y/N sniffled, her heart swelling with love for the man who always knew exactly how to comfort her. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Toto let out a breath of frustration, but his expression softened.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Toto replied, his hand gently caressing her back. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. Always.” “I’m sorry, darling. I should’ve been more attentive. I was too caught up in all of this… all these people… but I should’ve been with you. You should’ve never felt alone.”

He took a deep breath, his voice unwavering.

“I will make sure nothing like that ever happens again. Not on my watch.”

And as the lights of Las Vegas sparkled in the distance, Y/N realized that in Toto’s arms, she was safe.

The world could throw its distractions, its unwanted attention, and its people at her, but as long as she had him and their son by her side, nothing could take away her peace.

Jack tugged at his father’s hand.

“Daddy, Mommy’s really sad. Can we take her home?”

Toto nodded. “Yes, Jack. We’re going home. Right now.”

He pulled his wife close to him, wrapping his arms around her protectively, and he whispered into her ear, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner. But I’m here now, and I will always protect you. Always.”

With a final glance at the chaos of the event around them, Toto guided his family through the crowd, their son Jack happily holding his mother’s hand as they walked to their car.

Toto stayed close to her the entire way, his eyes scanning the surroundings, his hand never leaving hers.

He was determined that from this moment forward, she would never have to feel like that again.

As they climbed into the car, Toto turned to her, his voice soft and sincere. “I love you more than anything. Don’t ever feel like you have to hide things from me. I’m here for you, always.”

She smiled, feeling the weight of the night begin to lift. “I love you too.”

And for the first time that evening, she finally felt safe.

[helslastangel]

Random Astro Observations #6

@helslastangel

Disclaimer: These are based on personal observations and experiences and may not resonate for everyone with these placements. If it doesn’t apply, let it fly 🪽

🔥 Leo sun men as fathers often make excellent financial providers but poor emotional support for their children

💧Scorpio moon women are often overprotective of their sons and very harsh or demanding of their children's love interests

🌬 Aquarius mars placements don't get mad, they get even. the definition of neither forgive nor forget

🌿 Capricorn moons pay attention to what you like and will send you relevant memes or funny videos if they like you. They love making others laugh and sharing humor is a love language to them

🔥 Sagittarius sun women with Aries placements can be self-centered in their day-to-day actions without realizing it and sometimes end up with strained friendships and issues with their siblings

💧Cancer venus men can be some of the most caring and kind if they like you, but they are also vengeful and will ruin your day on purpose if they feel like it will make their point

🌬 Libra suns are typically cheerful unless they have Virgo or Capricorn moon - those can be quite serious or melancholy. if they have Sagittarius moon they may have more anger management issues and are more confrontational in general.

🌿 Taurus sun men prefer to be chased than do the chasing. if a Taurus man is chasing you, he seriously likes you something different because they're not getting off the couch for just anybody

🔥 Aries moon and Sagittarius mercury can make anyone 2x more fiery than they would be based on their sun sign, or give an otherwise chilled-out chart a massive energy boost. I had a Scorpio sun, Aries moon, Sag mercury, Libra venus, Scorpio mars friend and she was the sweetest but most aggressive Scorpio I ever met. Nobody believed she was a Scorpio tbh her Aries + Sag energies overwhelmed the rest of her placements. I knew someone else with Scorpio sun, moon, venus, mars, and Libra mercury and they were like a huge teddy bear and kind of a pushover most of the time.

💧Scorpio risings deal with a lot of unexplained hatred from acquaintances and random strangers. Most people react to them with either love/obsession or intense anger. It can cause them a lot of anxiety and people like to pick physical fights with them.

🌬 Gemini women are extremely loyal friends besides the tendency to talk a little bit too much to one person about someone else's business. The thing is, Geminis value community and communal traits a lot. I think they subconsciously forget that their friends aren't automatically your friends too, so they do need to ask before sharing things you only wanted them to know.

🌿 Virgo suns/moon LOVE to dance, or if they can't/won't, they might either enjoy watching other people do so, or just enjoy some form of physical movement that requires some coordination and focus in some way (martial arts, boxing, yoga, Tai chi, etc). But yeah if they become comfortable around you, just like with Capricorns, you'll discover a whole other side to them

🔥 Leo venuses are known for liking gifts but tbh it's not just any gift - they want things that are high quality at the very least. Even better if it's something they can show off to others. My ex has this placement and I remember for Valentine's Day, I got him a bunch of things ranging in price, some for glamour and others because I just noticed he could use them. Yeah well, he loved the $250 gold earrings and immediately put them in and went to show his friends, and he loved the black woven bracelets because they "looked exclusive" but I found the tracksuit, graphic tees and the card with the lipstick print I got him shoved in the back of his closet. Asked about it and after lying about putting them there "just for a second to sweep the floor" he eventually admitted that because they weren't designer he really didn't want them. Lesson learned 0_0

My dad also has Leo venus and although he doesn't particularly care about things being designer or not like that, he WILL pick at the quality of anything you get him and only be happy if he can do the boomer thing where they say how "solid" something feels and how it will "last." If it's something like a book, it has to be a super popular bestselling "everyone is talking about this" title or else... yeah your gift is ending up in a sock drawer :/ lol

💧 Water moons experience a lot of guilt whenever they set boundaries with others and it's something they have to overcome as early as possible or they will suffer from a lot of headaches or stomachaches from anxiety

🌬 Aquarius sun men can be extremely toxic when it comes to wanting and chasing someone only after that person loses interest or displays nonchalance towards them. It is almost like they like a challenge to the point of manufacturing it over investing the same energy into a personal connection. The thing is, this is fun for a while but if they do it too often to too many people within a closed environment (school, activity group, work, etc), word gets around and they can often suddenly find themselves losing friends and romantic prospects. They can become lonely at that point and try to double back with their top interests, but won't admit they f*cked up. They just show up either acting as if nothing happened or being kinda arrogant about the whole thing and insisting that you're the one playing games with them.

🌿 Earth signs in the big 3 can make someone develop very peculiar ways of organizing. It can be physical objects, locations, or even just their thoughts, but they will have a whole elaborate process that can be kinda cute to watch unfold.

🔥 Fire signs in the big 3 can make someone highly expressive and have huge energy, even if they're a shy or quiet person. You'll know they've arrived at a function long before you see them and can find them in a room by just following the vibes ✨️

💧Pisces placements, especially suns, are extremely perceptive and people do not give them nearly enough credit for this. They're noticing everything and taking notes for future reference - looking like they're in the own world is just how they seem on the outside. Just because they didn't say anything doesn't mean they didn't clock your tea.

𓆩♡𓆪

↤ go back to the masterlist

[burreauxsworld]

Locked In (1) | Joe Burrow

Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader

Exboyfriend!joshallen x Exgirlfriend!reader

•••

Being in the spotlight isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Yeah, there’s glitz and glamour and getting to live out your dream you’ve had since you were a little girl, but deep down you’re still human, with normal human emotions. Emotions that are completely normal, even when people tell you to never show them. You honestly were doing so well considering the circumstances you were left with. A completely shattered heart, an album that had just dropped (full of love songs written about the person that shattered your heart), and a sold out stadium tour that would take place over the entire summer. You were thriving. Slowly but surely, your heart mended itself back together every time you took the stage. Nothing could stand in your way.

Then football season rolled around and people started noticing that you weren’t in your normal spot, in a suite at Highmark Stadium. Supporting the man you believed you would spend the rest of your life with. Even had the ring to prove it. But it all came crashing down the night you walked in on him in bed with his ex from college. It absolutely crushed you. Especially because Josh Allen seemed like the perfect guy. He treated you well, showed you off in public, spoke about you in post-game interviews, the whole nine yards. You never would have saw this coming in a million years. But it did, and it felt like the worst day of your life.

Pre season wasn’t too bad, people just assumed you were busy. Then week one came and you still weren’t there, and people started to question things. Headlines quickly made their way into the world, it was mentioned in sports news all over the country, and you and Josh had started to trend on Twitter. It was all mixed feelings. Mostly just men that were happy to see you go, the women tearing Josh down, and some fans that were devastated about the split. You never commented on the topic. You figured you’d let it die down, and at some point it would be addressed in a normal adult way.

Josh had other plans.

He’d gone on a podcast for barstool sports, and when asked about the topic he didn’t shy away from lying to the entire world. “We both have pretty busy lives. She was going to be starting her tour and didn’t really have a lot of time on her hands. There’d be times where she’d go days without reaching out to me. I just couldn’t live that way anymore”

You were dumbfounded. Completely and utterly baffled. “Brittany and I reconnected last season when we played the Chiefs. It had been such a long time since I’d seen her. We kept in touch. But assure you, there was no crossover. I’d never even think about cheating on a woman”

Blow number two. The cheating had went on far longer than you’d realized, and right under your nose. You were too busy catching up with Taylor Swift in the suite to notice that your fiancé met up with his ex. “I think I’m the happiest I’ve been in a while. I can’t speak for Y/N but I can honestly say for myself that I checked out of that relationship a year before it ended. I could not physically live that way anymore”

You couldn’t watch anymore. You powered your phone off and threw it to the end of your couch. Tears streaming down your face, your heart feeling like it shattered all over again. He’d just proposed to you in July of last year, the two of you started planning your wedding for the off season. It was all a lie.

You thought about retaliating. Putting him on blast the same way he did you, but that wouldn’t make you feel better. At this point, you weren’t sure what would make you feel better, but you knew you couldn’t be sad over him anymore. You needed to pick yourself back up.

•••

2 days later

You laughed hysterically as you threw your head back. When you realized your management team wasn’t laughing with you, you slowly stopped laughing. “Oh you guys are serious?” You question, dumbfounded. “Absolutely not. I’m not stepping foot into another football game for the rest of my life” you say firmly. “Y/N, it’s just to sing the national anthem, and then you can leave. You don’t have to stay for the entire game” your manager, Ryan, tells you with hope in his voice.

“And what reason am I going to give the media for leaving? That I was a heartbroken little child so I couldn’t stay? That’ll do more harm than good and you know it” you rant, letting out a sigh. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” You question, and put your head down when Ryan makes a face.

“It’s out of my hands. The record label won’t produce your album if you say no”

“When and where?” You say, reluctantly. “Sunday, October 6th, and in Cincinnati. This is the first AFC North divisional. There will be a lot of viewers and attendees already but you singing the national anthem would raise those numbers. The NFL is paying you very well to do this, plus you have a private suite with your name on it if you would like to stay,” Ryan explains, not tearing his eyes from you. He knew how hard this would be for you. He hated even having to ask you to do this.

“I’ll be there. But only because the future of my album rides on this. The NFL literally makes me sick to my stomach right now” you rant, rolling your eyes. “You can’t let one guy deter you from your passion of football. You loved football even before he who shall not be named. Besides, I will be there the entire time, and so will Megan. Megan is kick ass at what she does. All this Voldemort nonsense is gonna be put behind us. Clean slate, Y/N/N” Ryan assures you, and you crack a smile. “Voldemort?” You question.

“Oh yeah, he sucks. He’s lucky you’re giving him the grace that you are, and that you held me back from beating his ass that night” Ryan rants, and you laugh. Grateful that not only is he your manager, but one of your best friends. “But seriously, I’ll be there, next to you the entire day. And a little birdie told me you have some fans on the Bengals. Who knows, you may find a hotter guy that’ll be an upgrade from shit-for-brains” Ryan teases, and you scoff.

“I doubt it. I’ve sworn off athletes. Especially ones that play professional football”

“You say that now,” Ryan winks as he leaves the room, and you roll your eyes, yet again.

•••

Sunday October 6th, 2024

You heard the whispers as you walked past people. The judgmental comments about you neglecting your relationship, how you were the reason for its demise. The awful things people were saying about you, and screaming at you, almost made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. The worst ones, were the looks of sympathy you got from the women in the stadium. You knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

“Ryan, I don’t know if I can do this. They all hate me” you stress, and he’s already shaking his head at you. “They don’t hate you-“

“Slut!”

“Seriously?” You say, with a flat tone. “Okay, so some macho men are just mad that you’re here. Who cares? Y/N, your career is literally riding on this”

“I can get a new label” you retort and Ryan sighs. “Y/N, you got this. You’ve literally dealt with so much worse than this-“

“Y/N, you’re on in 10” an NFL official says, walking past the two of you. You feel like your throat is closing up. There’s a lump that wouldn’t go away. In all the years you’ve been performing for big crowds, this one had you nervous. “Josh turned me into a social pariah when it comes to the NFL. He literally blamed me for everything, Ryan. I shouldn’t be here” you rant, tears brimming your eyes. “You absolutely deserve to be here. And for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been upset if you spoke your truth. Damage control is my job, let me worry about that. You just go out there and sing your heart out” another voice chimes in, and you turn your head to see Megan, your publicist.

“It’s time,” Ryan says. “Y/N, keep your head held high. You can do this. I’ll be right over on the Bengals sideline waiting for you to finish” Ryan assures you, as the three of you walk toward the opening to the field. Here goes nothing.

•••

After The Game

You should’ve known that staying at the game would mean Ryan would convince you to go to the after party. Although the game ended in a Ravens win, the team still seemed to be in good spirits. A lot of them were actually a lot of fun to be around. You were originally invited by Ja’Marr Chase, who made a point to come up to the suite and invite you personally. Letting you know that he and a few other guys were big fans, though part of you thinks he was just being nice.

You came in and conversed with him and a few other guys before making your way to the bar, then to an empty booth in the corner of the room. Ryan was mingling with some of the coaches and Megan decided not to attend the party, so you were pretty much left to your own devices. You nursed your dirty shirley as you scrolled through twitter. A lump forming in your throat at the harsh things being said about you.

“You really shouldn’t look at that stuff. I’ve learned that the hard way”

Your head snapped up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, as the couch dipped next to you. “I hope this seat isn’t taken, though you’ve been sitting by yourself for the last half hour. Not that I was watching like a creep. I promise. I just got tired of standing at the bar” the deep voice rambled. “You’re okay. The seats not taken” you say, a small smile gracing your features.

“I’m just not very popular at the moment” you admit, taking another sip of your drink. “You played really well today, by the way. If you ask me, the Bengals had that in the bag” you say, changing the subject and he scoffs. “Always room for improvement,” he says, sipping his drink. “I’m Joe, by the way” he says, extending his hand to you.

“Y/N,”

“And since we’re voicing opinions, you didn’t deserve to be dragged down in the media. I’m not sure what actually happened, and by no means am I asking you to tell me, but I think it should have stayed private. Josh seemed like a nice guy, but that was a low blow” Joe says, not looking at you, as he yet again sips his drink. You frowned at the mention of Josh, and sank back against the couch. “Thanks, I guess,” you mutter, bringing your glass up to your lips. Joe looks over at you, and mentally face-palms.

“I’m so sorry. I overstepped. I shouldn’t have commented on something I know nothing about,” he says, a sense of urgency in his tone. “I literally came over here with liquid courage, with the intention of getting to know you and I fucked it up by bringing up your ex. I’m such an idiot” Joe rants, leaning back against the couch. You look over at him, a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Joe, it’s okay. You were trying to make conversation-“

“But I could’ve asked like what your favorite color is, not brought up your ex” Joe says, internally beating himself up. “It’s yellow” you answer, and he looks over at you confused. “My favorite color is yellow” you say, and he smiles. “Let’s start over. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you say, extending your hand with a smile.

“I’m Joe Burrow. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mistle-hoe

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You take on a job at the holidays to get some extra money, but you get way more than that.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Day Thirty-One of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - how is the mistletoe following you around?

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

‘Hey, where u at?’ 

You sigh at the text message and type a flurried response before you tuck your phone in your back pocket. ‘Work’. Of course, Alicia is so self-involved, she can’t remember the one thing you told her a dozen times.

Sorry, can’t make the New Year’s Eve shindig, I need the money. 

“These shirts are... scratchy,” Paulina distracts you from your irritation, sparking a new agitation just beneath your skin. You look down at the attire and shrug. “But fancy.” 

You look down at the sparkly monstrosity. Silver isn’t really your colour. For a price, it can be. That night, you’ll be making double overtime and a tip. It’s more than worth skipping one of Alicia’s ridiculous drunken spectacles. 

“A little,” you adjust the trap. The rest of your outfit is standard; black pants, black shoes, heeled just as the job description specified. You prefer your flats with the inserts but you can bear a bit of arch pain for the check at the end of the night. Rather, year. 

“Must be quite the event,” you comment as you take a loaded tray; lobster, shrimp, mussels. The typical fair would be macaroni and cheese bites or pigs in a blanket. Tonight, is a fine affair. 

“CEOs,” Krista comes up on your other side. “So I hear. Bunch of rich old men. Just make sure you’re generous with the wine. You’ll get a bigger tip.” 

“Huh, right,” you lift the heavy tray and balance it expertly. “It might even cut short the night.” 

“Looking at some of these guys, you’re probably right,” Paulina snickers. “I’m seeing a lot of silver, not just these things.” She pinches a sequin on her shirt. “Ugh, the liner on this is awful.” 

You agree. You could throw the tray of appetizers and scratch your own skin off. You’ve dealt with worse. It’s part of the job. Banquets, work lunches, even weddings. Serving isn’t as glamourous as those melodramatic reality shows might suggest. 

You carry the tray through the curtain and start your rounds. It is a rather stuffy gathering. Black tie and all. As you silently offer your fare, acting as the perfect conveyor of gluttony, you notice a peculiar detail. Among all the tailored jackets, silk ties, and quaffed haircuts, there are no women. Not aside from you and the other servers. 

It might just be that it’s a boys’ club. That good old glass ceiling is thicker than you expect. Still, these things are rarely very lively without a female element. That’s not really your concern. You’re not the event planner, you’re just a walking table. 

“That shrimp?” A voice calls over. You turn as a man beckons you closer with his glass.  

You approach him as he turns with interest to the tray. He keeps one hand in his jacket pocket as you present the tray with indifference. He sports a rather bristly mustache and tidy haircut. It’s a choice. With money like his, style is expendable. 

“Oh, would you look at this,” he brings his hand out of his pocket and raises it high above the tray, “what do ya know?” 

You lock down a stoic expression and peer up at the cluster in his hand. Seriously? Your uncle used to pull that trick on your aunts. It was always kind of gross. 

“So uh... looks like we got caught, huh,” the man snickers. 

You look at him, horrified. He can’t be serious. Yet, if he’s a rich as they say, you expect that boundaries are nothing but a paywall to him. 

“You know it’s bad luck to break tradition,” he wiggles the mistletoe over you. “Don’t wanna start the new year off on a sour note, toots.” 

You tilt your head. You’re actually speechless. Not just your usual deferential silence, you really don’t know how to response. 

He presses his knuckles against the tray with his other hand, still gripping his glass, and steps closer. Your lashes flick in shock and your turn your head at the last moment as he puckers so he gets your cheek. His lips are wet with alcohol. Smells like gin. 

“Mm, downer,” he pulls back, “I'll get the lips next time.” 

He winks and retracts his arm, tucking away the mistletoe. He scoops up one of the skewers of shrimp and struts off without another word. God, that was slimy. You bend your head and wipe your cheek on your shoulder. 

You should warn the others. Avoid the one with the pornstache. Ugh. Why do men do this? Just think off the money. 

As you turn, Paulina’s tinkling giggle draws your attention. A man offers her a drink from his glass. You’re disappointed to see her accept. That’s a firing offence in most jobs. Not only that, it sets a bad precedence. These men don’t seem to have much restraint as it is. 

You crawl through, putting the tray out to reach hands. The air is cool as it speckles over your bare arms. You sidle around as you carry only scraps and return to curtained off space by the kitchen window. You trade your tray for a smaller one set with pre-mixed martinis. 

Another lap. The time sifts by slowly. You’re definitely earning the double overtime. Two white-haired men ogle you as they accept a martini. One sucks the olives off the toothpick as he leers. You keep a tight-lipped smile and move on. 

“Ah, don’t mind if I do,” that same timbre draws you around to face the mustachioed man. He sets his empty glass on the tray and takes one of the stemmed martinis, “you like gin, baby face?” 

“Sir,” you neither confirm or deny. He slurps noisily and rocks on his feet. 

You don’t have the space to angle around him. He seems to know it as he widens his stance and corners you further. You nearly groan as you sense his arm rising once more. No! 

The mistletoe jingles over your head, a small bell among the leaves. You stare at him with open concern. You’re helpless with your armful of drinks. 

“Ah, come on, don’t be shy,” he shifts closer, leaning in as he turns his cheek to you, “just a little one, right here.” 

You stare at his cheek. You just want this to be over with. Then you’ll be more vigilant and avoid him like the plague. You go to peck his cheekbone and he quickly snaps his head around and presses his lips to yours. You gasp and recoil, struggling not to spill the martinis as they slosh dangerously. 

He cackles and drains the martini. “Cute, I like it,” he wiggles the mistletoe again. “Hard to get, huh?” 

You back up and turn. Humiliated. What the hell? 

You glance around. Paulina’s sitting across to men’s laps as they feed her strawberries, one stroking her hip as the other keeps a hand on your thigh. Holy shit. This is getting strange. 

Krista is against the wall with another man, gray and balding. He whispers in her ear as she giggles and rubs his chest. Are you the only one working around here? 

You hurry behind the curtain and put the tray down. Where is Doris? This is her event. She should be keeping an eye on this. These men are animals. 

You peek through the curtain, scouring the room for her. You turn and go into the kitchen. It’s a frantic nest of chaos but she’s not there. Shit. You really don’t want to walk out, you need the money badly, but this is too much. You’re a server, not... what these men want you to do. 

“Oops,” the drawl makes you shudder as you walk directly into another body. The snicker that follows makes your skin crawl. It’s him. Again. “Think I’m lost, honey bee.” 

You look up at him and purse your lips. This is too much. This man is gross. 

“You can’t be back here--” 

“Baby, just a kiss,” he smirks. 

You stare at him, waiting for him to lift that stupid mistletoe. He doesn’t. You frown. 

“It’s caught,” he looks down and tilts his pelvis. The leaves are clips to his belt buckle, “would you look at that?” 

You take a step back as your nose flares. “Alright, sir, that’s inappropriate--” 

“Shhh,” he hushes you as he gets closer. “Go on, earn it, baby.” 

“Huh?” You grimace. 

“You think we’re paying top dollar for gin and fish. Go on and give it a kiss,” he grabs his belt and jingles the bell. “I’ll put an extra grand on your tip if you put one on mine.” 

You cringe and step back. He grabs your arm and you cry out. You bring your other hand up to shove his chest. 

“Hey, I’m not—I'm not prostitute, you weirdo,” you snarl as you wrestle with him. 

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll go for an under the table favour,” he growls. 

“Get off--” You struggle with him, fighting his strength as he keeps one hand on your wrist and the other snakes around your waist. You raise your voice as you snarl. “Dude, fuck off of me.” 

The door to the kitchen swings open and you look over desperately. Thank god. You push against the man as you send Doris a pleading look. 

“Hey, this guy won’t-- leave me--” 

“Keep it down, sweetheart,” she tuts. “You’re going to ruin the party.” She looks at the man, “Mr. Hansen, have you found everything to your liking?” 

“Oh, sure,” the man replies brightly, “I don’t mind working for it.” 

You hit his chest with your fist and try to stomp his foot, “Doris! You can’t--” 

She struts away, disappearing beyond the curtain. You whine as the man squeezes you to him and you writhe. What the fuck? 

“Don’t worry, baby,” he nuzzles your temple as your squirm, his mustache tickling your hairline, “I’ll give you a special kiss too.” His hand slips down to your ass and he gropes until you squeal. “Feel like you need that kitty eaten good.” 

“You’re.... disgusting,” you sneer as you wriggle in his grasp. 

“Oh, you’re about to find out how right you are,” he snickers and pushes his crotch against you. “One fucking lick at a time.” 

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

read this post by @bitethedevil and ended up writing this idk don't take it too serious

Read on AO3

-

Tav's fingers skittered over the red skin of Raphael’s naked back. It was always hot to the touch and smooth, its texture almost like leather. Patches of tiny scales grouped together in different spots, especially around the big joints connecting his wings to his body. Raphael fascinated Tav - not quite in the same way she fascinated him, but they were birds of a feather, so to speak. In fact...

"I've been wondering about something," she said, breaking the sleepy silence that had settled between them some time ago.

"Mm?" Raphael was utterly relaxed, the laziest Tav had ever seen him. On his belly in his (their!) bed, shirtless and shoeless - the scandal! He'd been enjoying her aimless touches. His Majesty, indeed.

"Can you fly?" She ran her palm across the thin membrane of wing she could reach, then the sturdy bone. "You've got these huge wings, but I've never seen you use them." She'd witnessed them fully stretched out once or twice, but otherwise he always kept them folded close to his body. A shame. They were magnificent. Heavy as anything, though - especially when he was dead asleep. Tav had almost been suffocated a few times trying to spoon him, and he refused to sleep in his human glamour just to let her be the big spoon. Waste of magic, he said. Spoilsport.

"What an inane question." Raphael didn't even open his eyes. "Of course I can. My wings are not for show, little mouse. No more so than a bird's are."

"Well..." Tav chose her next words carefully. She'd learned through trial and error how much she could prod her devil and when. Most of the time he was amenable to light teasing, but sometimes, when he was in a good mood like this, she could have some fun. "There are some birds out there who have wings but can't fly, you know. Peacocks, for example. They're kind of like big chickens, if you think about it."

Raphael slowly lifted his head, turned it so he could look at her over his shoulder. Tav bit her tongue in a futile attempt to squash her impish grin. His orange iris burned in the inky depths of his black sclera. A few locks of his hair were free from his usual coiff.

"Big chickens," he repeated flatly.

"Yes," said Tav, her voice strangled by the giggle she was trying to suppress. "How do I know you aren't an infernal peacock?"

"I can fly, you insipid little gibbon," he snapped, but he wasn't angry. She could tell by the twitching at the corners of his lovely mouth. Tav coughed, choked on a laugh.

"I think you should show me."

"Do you."

"For posterity's sake, of course."

"Of course."

Tav waited, watched, moved to make space for Raphael as he sat up, languidly stretching like a big cat. Accidentally whacking her with those wings she was so obsessed with.

"Apologies, dear," he drawled, about as sorry as a horny kobold in a bathhouse. He smiled when she scowled. He stood to his full height, preening as she ogled him. In nothing but a pair of trousers, he truly was a sight. Without warning he beat his mighty wings and took off, soaring across the room to land on the other side, where he nonchalantly poured himself a glass of wine. Tav spluttered in the wake of that massive gust of air. Raphael sipped his wine, staring at her as if to say, "well?"

"Good distance! You looked a little wobbly with your execution, though," Tav said. It wasn't true. He was majestic in flight, but he didn't need to know that. His ego was big enough. She combed her fingers through her rustled hair, grinning when Raphael’s eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps you're right." He put his glass down and sauntered towards her. Tav's heart leapt into her throat, fear and excitement together. "I need a counterweight."

"A what? Hey!" She didn't struggle when he picked her up, shifting her in his arms until he was holding her bridal style. It was a thrill to be held by her devil, and yet. She giggled nervously, her cheeks warm. "What are you doing?"

"Why, showing you that I can fly, of course!" He declared, making a scene of looking around. "But we simply cannot do it here. There's hardly enough space. Hm...ah, perfect."

He walked them to the balcony overlooking the endless landscape of Avernus. Tav sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of what he was about to do. Now she began to try and wriggle free, but his grip was iron.

"Okay, you've proven your point! There's no need for a second flight, your technique was perfect!"

Raphael had no mercy. He smirked down at his little mouse, showing teeth. His eyes alight with dark mischief. "Big chickens, Tav," he said, and leapt off the edge. She shrieked, clung to him like a limpet, feeling and hearing his chuckles as he effortlessly flew them around.

After the intial spike of shock, Tav relaxed, just a little. This wasn't so bad. Raphael was an adept flier, and if she ignored the monumental height she was suspended at, it could almost pass as romantic. Soaring about the hot skies of Hell in the arms of her underworld Prince. Feeling every powerful flap of his wings. His strength. Avernus, from a distance, was beautiful in a devastating way. Unfortunately for Tav, she'd forgotten quite how fiends liked to play.

"Oh dear," Raphael said, stoic. He'd been waiting for her guard to lower. Tav's stomach lurched when she sensed his grasp on her slacken. "I seem to have lost my balance."

"RAPHAEL NO DON'T- AAAAAAHHHH!"

He dropped her. Tav screamed as she plummeted to the ground, terrified and betrayed. Raphael was rapidly becoming a shrinking red blur as she fell. He was probably watching her with sick satisfaction. She cursed him. She cursed herself. Mostly she cursed him. Bastardbastardbastard -

"Fret not, little mouse," he purred, hideously amused. She was in his arms again. "I've got you."

Tav couldn't speak; could only tremble, dig her fingers into him. He laughed the entire flight back to the house, deep and rich and raw. Tav planted herself on stable ground the first moment possible, glaring at him.

"You're horrid," she hissed. Raphael cackled.

"Oh, come now. You didn't truly believe I would allow you to fall to your death, did you? Such little faith. Ah, but how sweet your screams were...I shall be hearing them in my dreams for weeks."

"Horrid," Tav muttered again. She wriggled between the bedsheets and buried herself under the covers. It didn't take long for him to join her, surrounding her with his cloying heat.

"You'll forgive me, won't you?" He murmured sweetly into her ear, raising goosebumps all over her skin. One big clawed hand slipped beneath her shirt to gently rub her stomach just the way she liked. Wordlessly she pressed into his touch.

He played her like a fiddle, always.

[laughableillusions]

Random Jareth HCs

I talk so much abt him and I have some silly ideas :3c

If he stays in owl form too long he has some trouble changing back. He gets kind of stuck a bit between. He chitters like a barn owl in “human” form, can screech like one if mad. There’s feathers in his hair, and sometimes he still has bird-feet. The worst case was when his arms were still big useless wings. It goes away after a while but he’s impatient as hell and will sulk about it and punish anyone who dares laugh at him for his chicken feet.

Jareth actually runs cold. He can change his body temperature if needed, but it’s very surface level. Usually he’s around room temperature (like a corpse). Cuddling or any close physical contact will warm his body up.

His hands are strangely rough under his gloves, they’re rough and hard like stone. He almost never removes his gloves because his touch alone can cause serious magic shit to happen if he isn’t careful. The glamour he uses to keep his more human form doesn’t really extend to his hands for whatever reason (his truest form is made of stone), so he wears gloves to sort of hide it.

Music lover, I mean duh. He sings and dances ofc, but he actually knows very little about modern music. His knowledge of humanity is still stuck in the 18th century. While he would like the idea of things like CD players and MP3 players etc etc, he will always prefer live performances, be it himself or watching someone else. He would probably go to a lot of concerts just to see what the music vibe is these days.

Doesn’t do well in human crowds. A masquerade ball in his castle is one thing, it’s his realm, it’s other fae. But you put him in a shopping mall or grocery store??? He is not having a good time. Mostly because he sees most humans as beneath him (except for the few he decides are special little princesses/princes lol). Modern humans apparently have a stench to him, and he finds it disgusting when “in concentration.”

He can make any small child stop crying however. If Toby proved anything it showed how good with kids Jareth is. He can entertain any small child with ease. Though it starts to freak the parents out when he starts talking about how much he wants to steal them away from their mothers. The man loves kids, and hopes one day he can actually keep a human baby to raise as his own.

Unbearably physically clingy. Like…unbearably. He’d be attached to his lover like a parasite whenever they try to go anywhere without him. If he can’t touch you, he’s standing behind you with his hands behind his back to keep himself from touching you. Like Jesus Christ man back up you’re not gonna go anywhere‼️‼️

Has a jealousy problem as well. With his stuff and his lovers. You do not touch his stuff without asking him, or until he lends it to you. With romantic jealousy, it’s about the same. Nobody touches what he deems his. He has enough dignity not to cause a public scene, but will glare at anyone who dares flirt with his lover- or if he thinks your not paying attention to him enough, he will give you the cold shoulder until you shove him aside and ask him what the fuck is going on.

Enjoys playing mind games. Though he’s too much of a romantic to do things that would really hurt you, at least intentionally. But his fae nature gives him a bastard side that sometimes can’t help it. But really, he would hate to actually fight with you. The last thing he wants is for you to be genuinely upset, and so will bend over backwards to keep you happy.

Speaking of that, Jareth is 100% a doormat to the ones he loves. He’s been alone for centuries (if not more). And any hope of validation he will chase like a kicked puppy. But everything he does, he expects something in return. (ex: I am exhausted by your expectations of me, isn’t that generous?) Fae are deal makers after all, and so he will create a beautiful ideallic place for you to live…but in return he expects your devotion and loyalty. It seems like a small price, until it isn’t. Sometimes, in exchange for a favor he does for you, he will ask for something in return (be it a task, or an a object).

As hedonistic and mischievous as he is, Jareth is quite emotionally intelligent. His age gives him wisdom, and sometimes it’s like he knows exactly just what to say. Humans have such predictable emotions after all, and he can use his knowledge of them as a form of manipulation if he wants/needs to. But to someone he loves, he would bring perfect comfort to. He will try and make you laugh, then ask if you want him to stay with you or leave you be, anything you ask if it would make you less upset and more comfortable he will do (doormat). If you want him to read you a bedtime story? Do a handstand? He’d fucking do it.

[princesssarisa]

The Most Common Types of Fairy Godmother in "Cinderella" Adaptations

Since @ariel-seagull-wings and I have already posted about the different portrayals of Cinderella and her prince, I thought it might be nice to look at the different portrayals of the other characters too.

Each portrayal of the Fairy Godmother is unique, but patterns do emerge across the different adaptations. I've found that the different portrayals of the character can be divided into five categories, with some portrayals combining two of them together.

The Regal, Ethereal Lady

This beautiful, elegant creature is emphatically a fairy godmother, not a godmother who happens to be a fairy. She wears a gorgeous flowing gown, not of any earthly fashion, and though her age is indeterminate, she seems youthful yet wise. Her demeanor is kind and gentle, yet serious and stately, though she might have a slight playful streak. She takes on the role of the story’s moral authority as well, usually emphasizing that she comes to reward Cinderella for her goodness. Often, she first appears disguised as an old beggar woman to test the respective virtue of Cinderella and her stepfamily, and Cinderella earns her good will by giving her bread while the stepfamily scorns her. Sometimes she has attendant fairies or other magic-users to assist her as well: she might even be portrayed as the Fairy Queen, who lives in the forest like Shakespeare’s Titania and has countless fairies, elves, and sprites as her command. Fairy Godmothers of this type are most often seen in earlier adaptations: they include “La Fée” in Massenet’s opera Cendrillon, the Fairy Godmother in Prokofiev’s ballet, Inez Marcel in the 1914 silent film, Varvara Myasnikova in the 1947 Russian film, Celeste Holm in the 1965 version of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical, and the animated Fairy Godmothers both in the 1935 Betty Boop cartoon Poor Cinderella and in the 1979 Russian animated short.

The Grandmother Figure

This Fairy Godmother is a little old woman, and she’s very human as fairies go. She might not be regal, or beautiful, but she radiates a sense of warmth and comfort like all the best grandmothers do. Her sweetness, gentleness, and maternal affection are just what Cinderella needs in her despair, and sometimes she can be adorably absentminded – forgetting where she put her wand, almost sending Cinderella off to the ball in her rags, etc. – which adds gentle comic relief to the story. Yet she also conveys the wisdom that comes with age, and her magic is just as powerful as that of any younger, more glittering fairy. The quintessential Fairy Godmother of this type is the one voiced by Verna Felton in Disney’s classic 1950 animated film. Several other animated versions aimed at children feature grandmotherly Godmothers too, like the versions from Jetlag Productions and Burbank Animation Studios. In the 1995 musical A Tale of Cinderella, “La Stella” is Cinderella’s actual grandmother, whose magic sadly couldn’t save her daughter’s life, but can save her granddaughter’s future. Jean Stapleton’s Fairy Godmother in the 1985 Faerie Tale Theatre adaptation is also very grandmotherly, although she has additional glamour and a sense of humor that bring her closer to the next type of Fairy Godmother on the list (see below).

The Sassy Glamour Queen

She’s beautiful, she’s elegant, she’s as smart as a whip, and she knows it! This is a more modern, lighthearted twist on the Regal, Ethereal Lady. The sparkle of the gorgeous gown she wears is matched only by the sparkle of her playful wit, and her confidence in herself is surpassed only by her confidence in Cinderella. Her sense of humor lifts Cinderella’s spirit, while her intelligence, poise, and indefatigable spirit make her a strong role model for the girl. Yet though kind and caring, this Godmother tends to be a bit more standoffish than others – though not in a bad way. She urges Cinderella to solve her own problems, not just rely on her, and to have courage and faith in herself against all odds. The most famous Godmother of this type is probably Whitney Houston in the 1997 version of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical. But Edie Adams’ elegant and mischievous Godmother in the original 1957 Rodgers and Hammerstein telecast is a good example too: although since she spends most of the story masquerading as a human, she combines this portrayal with another type (see the bottom of the list). Meanwhile, Jean Stapleton’s Faerie Tale Theatre Godmother has the elegance and humor of this type, but as an elderly woman, she combines it with the Grandmother Figure. Last, but not least, is Billy Porter’s nonbinary “Fab G.” in the 2021 Sony/Amazon musical.

The Eccentric Mage

This funny and kooky Godmother is one of those beings who combine magic with just a little insanity. Her mind is like her powers: not entirely of this earth. Like the Regal, Ethereal Lady, she tends to disguise herself as a poor, ragged old woman to test Cinderella’s virtue and befriend her before the ball – but she takes it a step further and masquerades as a crazy homeless woman, who spouts odd remarks and whom anyone less kind than Cinderella might try to avoid. Yet even when not in disguise, she’s a bit of a ditzy oddball, who sometimes fumbles her spells once or twice before she gets them right: e.g. dressing Cinderella in the wrong type of clothing at first, or turning the pumpkin into the wrong item, or accidentally making it grow to a gigantic, greenhouse-shattering size before it becomes a coach. Fairy Godmothers of this type include Helena Bonham Carter in Disney’s 2015 live action film, “Crazy Marie” in the 2013 Broadway version of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical, Joyce Gordon in the Muppets’ Hey, Cinderella! and Estelle Winwood as Mrs. Toquet in The Glass Slipper. Although since Mrs. Toquet never takes off her “crazy poor woman” disguise, she combines this variant with another one: The Godmother Who Happens to Be a Fairy (see below).

The Godmother Who Happens to Be a Fairy

This is the most human portrayal of the Fairy Godmother: an ordinary woman who just happens to have magical powers, which she hides until they’re needed. Cinderella typically befriends her long before the ball, sometimes knowing her from childhood. She might be a household servant, or a kindly neighbor, or a traveling portrait painter, but whoever she is, you wouldn’t guess that she’s a fairy. She might even pretend not to believe in magic. She might also be Cinderella’s literal godmother – a close friend of her late mother’s, or even a relative. But no matter who she is, the friendship and the simple, human advice she gives to Cinderella (e.g. never to lose hope, or not to be afraid to love the Prince) are just as valuable as her spells. Edie Adams’ mischievous Godmother combines this characterization with the Sassy Glamour Queen in the 1957 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, Estelle Winwood’s Mrs. Toquet in The Glass Slipper combines it with the Eccentric Mage, and Annette Crosbie’s sensible and ladylike yet quirky Godmother in The Slipper and the Rose combines it slightly with the Eccentric Mage too. Other examples are the artist Paulette in the anime series Cinderella Monogatari, the cook Mandy in the original novel of Ella Enchanted (who is also the Grandmother Figure), and the pasta-stirring grandmother La Stella in the musical A Tale of Cinderella (ditto).

@ariel-seagull-wings, @thealmightyemprex, @adarkrainbow, @themousefromfantasyland, @faintingheroine, @angelixgutz, @softlytowardthesun, @amalthea9

[missholloween]

Why Joey's EOTPII/Casino character was Owen: a theory

Tagging @smytherines , @toringo and @just-watching-dont-worry. This will be long

First of all, let's introduce our guy: waiter #4 or, as he's called in the subs (more on that later), the manager.

During the first Spies viewing, one usually pays attention to Joey, as they might be expecting Owen to return in one way or another. I personally got so caught up with this character because of Joey's body language.

Eyes on the Prize II is a very showy number: the ensemble must move at the same time, and they should all be in the same page. They are showy, yet classy; ostentatious, yet controlled. They have to be all the glamour and riches they are singing about.

That's why waiter #4 stood out to me: he's serious as the other are, yes, but he also seems angry. Here are some ensemble photos so that you can see it:

Why the intensity? Why those gestures? I really encourage you all to rewatch A1P6 so that you can see it, as he keeps the energy for the whole number (even the quick "keep your eyes on the prize" changes). He's not even the waiter that Curt knocks out after his PTSD attack.

It is also remarkable how these expressions are really similar to another (queer) villain of Joey: Wilbur Cross. Wilbur in Made In America and this waiter has a really similar body language. Coincidence? I don't think so.

If it was only Eyes On the Prize II though, I wouldn't be thinking that much about this... But waiter #4 is one of the three waiters with lines in that scene (the other two being Brian's and Lauren's), so let see what he does.

Joey's waiter first talks when Curt loses it and threatens the Informant, quickly jumping to defend them. Joey's character reacts almost immediately, so he must have been nearby, and is so aggressive that Curt backs down quickly. After threatening Curt with throwing him out of the Casino, he checks the Informant to see if they are okay.

The subs call this character "Manager", and it would thus explain the way he acts: he was nearby because he's in charge of everything that's going on, and he does have the power to expel costumers if they act inadequately. A manager also spends a lot of time with his employees, so it makes sense that he's protective with them.

Why then, is the next character Joey plays also called "Manager"?

This character (that, according to the subs, is the same person) has a foreign accent, something none of the other waiters had, and a silly high-pitched voice. His purpose in this scene is to finish humiliating Curt: he tells Curt he has an immense debt for the night and also rebounds his check. The manager is cordial to Tatiana, greeting her while Curt struggles with his payment. He also leaves once Tatiana suggests a solution, and, in a lower voice (similar to no moustache!Manager) says "thank you, ma'am".

Why are these two characters technically the same role? One may think it's because other actors need to be prepared for a quick change or something, but Tessa doesn't! Her next role is ensemble in Not So Bad, and they have a good 3-4 minutes until that. And if they are supposed to be different characters, why would the subtitles use the same name for him? Joey's choices also seem to be stage directions, especially in the coreo. There are too many details for it to be simply a coincidence.

What's the reason, then? Joey is playing Owen at the casino: after his first encounter during A1P3, Owen is on alert knowing that he might cross path with Curt again. He thus decides to go undercover in the casino to see if he'll meet him before attending to Von Nazi's plan. Owen wants to be close, but remain unseen, so he plays one of the waiters of the floor. However, when Curt threatens the Informant, Owen's feelings betray him and quickly intervenes, probably triggered by Curt "brutish ways". After that, Owen has to return with a new role (moustache), as he wants to know where Tati and Curt are leaving. He thus takes advantage of Curt's state to mess a little with him, a little bit of foreplay before what he has prepared for him.

TL; DR:

This also provokes so many fun little headcanons and possibilities. Like, did the Informant and Owen had a relationship then? Would Tatiana have noticed it? Does Owen really think Curt is stupid enough to not recognize someone just by a different voice and a stupid accent? I think it could give way to a lot of fun ideas (but also I do need to know why did they have Joey twice and not Joey and Tessa)

[emmg]

first line or page or whatever

I was tagged by lovely @starfleetteddybear

And now I'm tagging everyone I can think of because you all already know I adore being a fly on the wall, continually being fed by yalls lips @heylittleriotact @lavenderprose @caffeinatedmunchkin @aldisobey @fenharel-babe @lafaiette and everyone else (seriously, I am so serious, so super serious, freaking tag me to read it)

I don't write in order so this isn't technically "first page or first sentence" or whatever, but it is the first thing in the document. It's not edited or anything, so yeah

I'm not working on anything in particular at the moment, but this is from a Emmlich x Rook creepy, not-happy, definitely morbid one-shot

---

Her hand dangles from her wrist like an afterthought, a relic of some forgotten desecration. Hours ago, it was ordinary: warm, alive, unremarkable. Now, the skin stretches taut and shiny, the color of old wax, fissured at the knuckles, crisp and lifeless. The nails are beginning their exodus, retreating one by one, and the bones beneath flex with a quiet, unnatural creak, like a poorly oiled hinge. Each movement elicits a sound, a faint, unbearable crackle, as though the hand itself is trying to speak, trying to beg for stillness. 

Her arm betrays her further, holding onto the hand as though it remains unchanged, blind to the ruin at its end. The arm insists there is nothing wrong, and for a moment she wishes she could share in its delusion. 

"You have done well, Bellara. Thank you for bringing her here. You may leave," Emmrich says, his voice drifting through the fog of her horror. 

She blinks, her gaze slipping downward. His feet. They look normal. His voice, so calm, so kind, as if nothing in the world had shifted. But when he touches her hand she sees the wrappings around his fingers, the frayed edges of fabric, and something inside her mind explodes, splinters into a thousand jagged shards. 

The sound that escapes her lips is not quite a scream. Her lungs are too hollow for that. It is a keening, a whimper, the noise of a wounded animal, ribs already shattered, being struck again. She cannot look at his hand, and yet she does, helpless, dragged to the sight as though by hooks lodged in her skull. Even as the glamour rushes back around him like a second skin, summoned hastily to soothe her panic, she sees it. Beneath the wrappings, beneath the illusion. She sees what lies hidden, what should never be seen. She does not need to see it clearly. She has seen it before.

She imagines the layers of herself peeled away in the same manner: skin slipping like the rind of a fruit plunged into boiling water, sloughing off to reveal raw muscle, wet and glistening. The muscle stripped clean, sinew unwound like thread, veins plucked and discarded, the bone beneath polished to a gleam until it is no longer hers, until it is no longer anything but a thing that must be hidden, bound, wrapped. Her hand, no longer her hand, becoming his hand. Becoming him.

She stumbles backward, choking on her terror, pushing, pleading, begging—away, away, away.

"Oh, no, no," Emmrich murmurs, soft and quick, catching her wrist before she can fully recoil. His fingers press into her, their texture wrong despite the illusion of skin. The glamour is seamless, his hand as it once was: warm, familiar. It looks right, yes, but the feel of it betrays him. 

"My darling, my darling," he coos. "It is but a malfunction, nothing more. I will fix it." 

And he does. She does not know how, does not understand the spell he weaves, the threads of magic pulled like a puppeteer’s strings. She only knows the sensation: the slowing of time as though the world itself hesitates to watch. The veins in her hand reinflate, blood coursing sluggishly, obediently. The yellowed, parchment-thin skin blushes pink again, fat plumping her fingertips, the flesh regaining its softness. 

The medallion stops its maddening thrumming at last, silent after being stirred to life by Bellara’s cursed artifact. Silent, but still there, still pulsing faintly against the edge of her mind. 

Emmrich smiles at her then, the smile he no longer has, the one the glamour keeps for him. It is a lie, but a convincing one. She realizes, distantly, that she has stopped crying. 

"It just needs a few adjustments," he says, lifting the medallion from between her breasts to rub its surface idly, reverently, like a craftsman tending to his finest tool. "Simple as that."

[mossplot]

Maybe a good/better ending AU? 🥹

What about a set of headcanon designs of formal/evening attire for the Tulpar Crew? May or may not include Jimmy, and Curly's condition is up to you. :3

OMG YIPPIE YES! I LOVE THIS ASK BC I’VE THOUGHT TO MYSELF SO MANY TIMES “oh man, what would a better ending look like?” BC I SEE SO MANY POSTS AND ART PIECES ON IT! THANK YOU FOR THE ASK I LOVE YOU MWAH MWAH!💕💕

Mouthwashing Better AU+

Formal Attire!

TW: Mentions of R*pe

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-I like to believe in this better AU, when Anya tells Curly about what Jimmy has done to her, he immediately confronts him and pulls NO punches.

-Curly wants to believe it's some sick joke for his own sanity, but he knows Jimmy and what he's capable of (being somebody's friend for twenty-some-odd years does that.)

~"Hey man, what's up?"

~"Anya told me. Jimmy, man...what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you serious?"

-Doesn't bother contacting cooperate before deciding to put their cryogenic chamber to good use protecting Anya (not without heavy resistance on Jimmy's end, kicking and scratching trying to avoid being confined.)

-The rest of the haul went rather smoothly with maybe a few very minor bumps and scraps here and there.

-There's plenty of team bonding like game nights. Daisuke always wins much to everyone's dismay, but it's fairly funny watching Anya get pissed off and claim he's cheating at an "un-cheatable' game.

-Without Jimmy around, no one feels that they have to walk on eggshells anymore (this especially applies to Anya.)

-When they finally make it back to Earth, they're all so relieved yet saddened.

-Even though they are ecstatic to get back to their regular lives, they had grown to be a family over the past year.

-Lots of hugs and tears (mostly from Daisuke) and promises to meet up as often as all of them can!

-Jimmy is unfrozen and put on trial, being convicted of rape and thrown in prison. He gets counseling and progresses into a much better person but remains in prison for a long time ultimately deciding that when he gets out, he won't contact anyone on the Pony Express team. (He fades from their memories over time and they have no idea what became of him.)

-Daisuke goes home and reconnects with his parents and sister after being gone for a year, blabbering about everything that occurred and about how much fun he had interning for Swansea (who he calls every so often to keep in touch.)

-After a couple months or so, he finally decides to apply to Maryland Institute College of Art and gets accepted! (His parents are just happy he's finally applying himself.)

-Swansea already had a preestablished family prior to joining the Tulpar, a family in which he was so grateful to see again when he got back and vice versa.

-He took a very deserved period of self TLC before going back to work the auto-body shop he and his daughters ran!

-Curly had the most eventful time after leaving the Tulpar as he wasn't sure he wanted to be a captain anymore after that trip.

-He takes some time, job hopping from being a commercial airlines pilot, a line service technician, and finally settling on a less glamourous yet much more significant title, Professor Curly at Purdue University.

-Speaking of college, Anya decides to go back to school in an attempt to get her master's in Nursing and after several setbacks, she manages to graduate with a 3.56 making her the dean's list!

-It's her very graduation that has the crew (minus Jimmy of course) reuniting after several years!

-Graduations are an important event, especially college ones! This is exactly why each member comes dressed in what they view as "formal attire."

-While all of the men dawn suits of various colors, Anya wares a beautiful plum colored ankle length gown fitted with three golden star pins that corset the back under her ceremonial garb. On her feet are tasteful golden, shimmery flats that serves to complement the pins as well as allowing her to move as needed. (AKA she cannot walk in heels for the life of her.) Chooses to steer away from any Jewlery and leaves her hair as is naturally. Usually wearing very minimal makeup, Anya decides to go all out for this special occasion! https://pin.it/aAdHL9ahttps://pin.it/aAdHL9a0H0H

-Daisuke is clade in a salmon-colored suit (the same color as his Hawaiian shirt he wore in his days in the Tulpar) that is adorned by golden fixings on the cuffs. While his hair, now grown slightly longer, is pulled back into a neat ponytail, he decides against a tie or bow, rather leaving the top button undone and open showing off two layered necklaces. One a locket of his family and the other a simplistic, thin chain. He wears red dress shoes that do not compliment his attire at all, but as long as he liked it who cares? He too decides to wear a bit of makeup to enhance his features. Despite his time in college, Daisuke remains as cheerful and free-spirited as he was in the past!

https://pin.it/6BJb0uEGc

-Curly's attire consists of a very plane navy blue suit to compliment his eyes. The suit is similar to Daisuke's in style and cut, but instead of gold fittings his are silver! The only one in the bunch to wear a belt and he makes sure it's black to match his shoes and tie! His curly hair is slicked back with a few left dangling as framing pieces.

-Lastly, Swansea comes in a regular black suit and tie with his favorite sneakers from his collection on. He has a silver tie clip snapped on to ensure it stays on straight (you cannot convince me he does not have one of those) that match his cuff buttons! His greying hair is combed back into that neat style that older gentlemen wear, courtesy of his wife! He originally just wanted to go in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but his wife scolded him into changing on the condition he could still wear the sneakers.

-The graduation goes flawlessly, and emotions run high as they all crowed into cars heading to the nearest restaurant for good food and even better company.

[gamersagainstthemachine]

i hear sh2 remake is good? i know nothin about silent hill. got my sister into RE and just beat dmc1 with her watching, hoping she starts to like 3 and 4 when i get there. but yeah, vido games! love em

ive been playing these games because i found the ps2 which i thought had died and i also frequent thrift stores and have been able to find these games cheap (not the silent hill games obviously collectors have scalped those) but my friends got me dmc1 because it "seemed like something id like" yeag. it cracks me up especially the devilman references. but it seems like these games are also just popular again with the general person?

i havent played sh2 remake myself yet im busyyy and also tired of people rushing me to play things instead of doing it in my own pace. but ive been following along the release and it has some good things to it like environment details and even more endings. people have always been praising the little things in the writing and art direction which arent in the remake and they havent been replaced with better content so its lesser in this way. absolutely no way replace plauing the original with this one lol

i like games that are like interactive theatre with a great soundtrack and silent hill is often this. there is a lot of silent hill content, from installments that prove games are art to b movies that facilitate stupid cliches and it also encompasses other franchises like forbidden siren which i have played a bit of and team psyskallars fangames which are better silent hill games than some silent hill games and also hit closer for me because they take place in urban scandinavia. You know me its all been indie game supremacy because i didnt want triple A bullshit but ive made friends that have introduced me to the value of Big Gaming because its a part of them and because they are important to our culture and they are creative and its fun and there IS a lot of bullshit done in the name of marketability like blatant sexism and racism which i complained about the other day completely devalues the new dragon age for me because once i start thinking the authors are idiots with no other values than representing a power fantasy it really just feels like a waste of time to visit their work. Not that i dont want a power fantasy but i need it to address what matters to me especially the unattrative parts of life. Silent hill 2 is exactly this its what marias character is all about. i set my standard for video games when i first heard about silent hill 2 and similar games. the thing to like about it is that it is just so honest. its not really about people being horrible and ugly it makes a point about people being multifaceted and realistic and it is a sufferfest sure but its to drive a point home about ultimately love and gotta like media that examines the concept of love. they never try to censor themselves which i like because adults dont need content censored for themes they have specifically sought out depictions of. because it doesnt dumb down or glamourize it is entirely different from other commercial experiences which makes it weird that it is a popular franchise and video game with things like remakes coming out because you just cant treat it like any other consumable product its not anonymous or universal like that which lends itself to waifus and merch. but at the same time its also a video game made for an audience of adult gamers so it was made to create a fanbase around it. the best thing about being a silent hill fan is the gatekeeping and elitism it has resulted in and im serious because they arent games for everyone and it shouldnt be treated like they are. everything in moderation and all and the overexposure and bad retellings completely undermining or missing the sophisticated point is really prevalent. mr ito said it best https://x.com/adsk4/status/1495530138922283008 but seriously i have to even ask silent hill cosplayers and fanartists if theyve even played/seen the games and they often say no. a bit alienating. i think its fair to say the reputation overshadows the actual content for better or worse. it gets more exposure with the remake delightfully making history repeat itself like dis

i think you would like silent hill games for their thoughtfulness i rec emulating 1-3 maybe 4 and maybe give siren a try even though its difficult. it is pure japanese horror and the face model scans are very haunting the plot is also more resident evil-scoped. but yeah very big franchises, tap out when you get tired.

personally i think any remake should be played as a sequel although triple a games are usually finished products when they come out so they dont really need more content? but people talk about remakes all the time so playing through an old game series like dmc made me think about it. DMC4 has a lot of things to like that were never realized or only realized in pachinko games because it wanted to be this big final fantasy hero adventure but had rushed development. playing it feels very stiff and vague and it should have been much longer story wise but it was padded out with nonsense gameplay. it "needs" a remake or prequel for sure! DMC2 was also never realized and i personally like its tone more and i think it could be remade to be the sequel that DMC never got.

DMC truly feels like the designers just did whatever they think is fun and throw it at you and thats good because media should be challenging and the gameplay and puzzles definitely felt like the game was treating you like an adult. I was really surprised when DMC turned out to be important to me. Because it wasnt really where id look for a game experience that is intelligent or subversive. But i was surprised when its an emotionally smart game. ill be honest what makes DMC work is the camp, which isnt necessarily profitable or what a straight audience of noncreatives want so i think thats why it kinda has been worked out since DMC1. but dmc1 güde. i dont remember the last time i noticed i was smiling while playing a game my genuine and& honest reaction

i thought dmc was final fantasy for the longest time which is why i got pleasantly surprised by the dmc1 cutscenes you know the ones when they happened ahahah. that game is just entertaining i hope you and your sister had fun with it too! i have played all of the dmc games now except for the reboot which i am very interested in playing because even though its a bad dmc game from what i have seen it looks like an excellent devilman game it seems their train of thought was very similar to crybaby. dmc4 was almost my least favorite moreso than 2 but i can imagine DMC4 is very good if youre a catholic teenager. dmc5 is worth playing the other games for, its like the details and continuity keep hitting you and V is goth incarnate he is the character ever. his official manga is that good and it has no official english release at all. fucked. the dmc1 anime is fun its very 2008 anime. The franchise overall feels like it keeps giving.but it also feels like its thinning out by relying too much on happy reactions in the reader like jokes. it really hurts vergils character the most i think.

i was so excited to play 4 more games like dmc1 but they are very different which also has its merits i guess but i miss the darker stuff and difficulty. dmc5 gives you gold orbs just for starting the game... the novels can def be skipped for fanwritten lore dumps

its pretty common for people to say that dmc is for kids but i think its exactly for people that have seen all the tropes genres and series it draws on before and want a fresh spin on them that doesnt take itself seriously when it comes to plot but does handle emotional maturity carefully. its different from resident evil in this way right? when they arent implementing internet discourse, then franchises are increasingly asking us to take their stories seriously marvel is prime example of this and i just cant bring myself to gaf so i lov dmc way more than resident evil. i also got into that franchise by chance because i won a copy of re8 village and some of my ps4 games were stolen so i needed things to play. im peeved by the shallowness of the series but they do haunted house experiences SO well. i get a bit scareds. RE engine is also insaaane they really spend so much money on rendering every single wrinkle on dantes ass in leather and dynamic wetness its excellent to play with

the thing about these games is that you can really help getting an attachment to them after playing because they are really effective. i understand the dedicated audiences. I hope you take your time with them and its so awesome to bring somebody else along for the ride. it can be challenging to visit old media that has its installments in perspective to eachother because old players view them retrospectively. but there is also some cool historical fan content to find. and its one of those beloved franchises once you know it you just remember seeing it everywhere. i think my friend had pictures of trish and nevan on her computer when we were like 9 and had no idea what it was from but our favorite activity was of course Google Images

so ya i wrote much but that was all i wanted to say. youll have to list the replies in numbered order or something if you want to add anything XD

clown lady 4 u V have a wonderful day