#i was doing your icon and was like ‘’ I need to think about my gift for Lissa too… OH WAIT IT’S TODAY’’ 😭 HDBDHDN

[eternalyoo]

ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕓𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕒 @bearwoo !!!

Happy birthday to one of my best friend !!! 🥰 I tell you so often, but I hope you know how much you mean to me, you’re so supportive and wonderful to be “around” 🥺 You’e like the sister I always wanted to have and you deserve only the best, you’re so sweet and lovely and I could compliment you all day, cause ily and I hope are going to be friends for many more years 🥰✨💞💖💕💗💓💘💝

[fuxuannie]

Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

[mariasont]

Please, Don't Prove 'Em Right - A.H

a/n: my girl sabrina can do no wrong and i have been listening to this song on repeat since it came out so i just absolutely needed to write a fic about it

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events

warnings: angst (sorry in advance), aaron is like not a great husband, reader is also an imperfect character, reader is a girl boss though

wc: 1.2k

You were in your best dress. More expensive than you'd ever think about buying for yourself, but it had been a gift from Aaron. You had fought him on it, scolding him for spending so much on a dress you were sure to only wear once. But he had insisted, telling you that this opportunity was once in a lifetime and that it would be a sin for it to not be celebrated with a dress that made you shine like a ruby.

He was right, partly, you were shining--glowing, sparkling, glittering--as you moved through the library. It was beautiful, to say the least--all opulence and history that was almost too much to absorb. The marble floors almost seemed to amplify the conversations around you, the clinking of glasses, the swish of overpriced gowns and tuxedos.

Your eyes settled on the tiered desks fitted with bronze reading lamps, now repurposed as a station for hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The circular arrangement of desks, once centered around knowledge, now facilitated hushed gossip and the discreet laughter of society's finest.

You could almost hear what they were thinking: there she is again without her husband, that poor thing always by herself, and your personal favorite—does he even exist?

You wanted to be angry, to scold their prying eyes, for putting their noses into something that had nothing to do with them whatsoever. But could you really blame them? Every event you attended you told the same story--my husband is a busy man with an important job--a line you had grown tired of repeating. 

And that was all true. He devoted most of his time to saving lives--how could you find fault in that? How could you complain to having a husband whose very essence was self-sacrifice and heroism?

This evening was set to be an exception; he was in New York for a case, and the Pulitzer Prize ceremony was not something he would miss. He had given you his word.

You understood his passion for his job, completely, because you held that same passion for your own. You dedicated years of your life to your journalism, investigating corruption at its highest levels. This is exactly how you ended up here tonight, nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for that very work. A Pulitzer Prize.

The term once seemed like a fantastical concept to you, a lofty accolade reserved for the likes of JFK, Bob Dylan, Robert Frost--icons, not someone as ordinary as you. Yet, against all odds, you find yourself among the select few, a nominee for an honor that has only been won by 1,512 individuals since 1917, a fact Spencer had supplied you with.

Someone was speaking to you, saying your name. Almost without thinking, your hand found a flute of champagne, taking a generous sip before turning to face them.

"You look stunning, and a well-deserved congratulations are in order. Everyone back at the office is cheering for you." It was your boss, her stilettos adding inches to her already imposing frame.

The flattery didn't quite mask her usual coldness, it was all too artificial. She wasn't your biggest fan, and she had made that clear from your first day. Still, you mustered a smile and thanked her anyway, taking another sip of champagne, hoping to drown away her nauseating voice.

"It's too bad your husband couldn't be here," she began, and you had to resist the urge to rip out her extensions. "This is an incredible accomplishment, but he's quite the busy man, as you say."

"Yes, he is busy, but he'll be here tonight," you replied, flashing her your best smile as you smoothed the red fabric that suddenly felt too tight. "He's actually here in New York on a case."

"Oh, how great. I can't wait to put a face to the name." You could tell by the look she shot her own husband that she didn't believe a word from your mouth. "Anyway, I have to go speak with an academy representative, but I'll see you and your husband at the ceremony?"

You responded with a nod, not dignifying her with words as she left, her giggles a bitter sound. You hated her. And you were ready to make her eat her words when your husband, who looked absolutely incredibly in a suit, showed up.

But then it was dinner, and you found yourself alone, surrounded by a table of important people whose names you couldn't remember. The seat beside you was empty and suddenly that omnipotent, cloud-nine feeling you had vanished with the time that passed.

The text you sent piled up, feeling a little juvenile, like you were back in high school again getting stood up at prom.

Let me know when you're close!

Is everything going okay?

Call me if you can.

An onslaught of anxious thoughts skyrocketed around your mind as you mechanically chewed the fancy food that only seemed to upset your stomach further. What if something happened? Was he okay? Did the case go wrong? Did he get in a car accident on the way here?

You were a bundle of nerves, gnawing on the inside of your mouth as your heel tapped up and down against the floor. But this wasn't borne from concern for his well-being; deep down, you were certain he was fine. The truth was simpler and sharper: he wasn't coming.

You should have been prepared, should have braced for this, but you were convinced that this time, this occasion would be an exception.

You name was being called, but this time not by someone wanting to extract prying information or stir speculation, no, this time it was carried across the crowed, wrapped in the microphone's static hum.

Your head snapped up, fingers ceasing their fidgeting as you struggled to mask the shock and avoid the gaping, breathless look of a fish out of water.

You had won.

People were clapped, but it seemed far away as you made your way to the stage, hands coming from all directions to offer pats on the back and handshakes of congratulations.

You had won.

Your feet were carrying you up a small set of stairs. You were trying to remember how to walk--left, right, heel, toe. There was a bright light on you now, prompting a slight squint and you worked to keep a smile on your face as you accepted the award.

You had to be dreaming. Had to be. There was no other explanation.

You were on display now, under the intense stage lights. Your body was on autopilot, stepping behind the podium, words flowing out of your mouth--a speech you had rehearsed over and over again in the slim chance that you would win. And here you are.

But the more you spoke the more you seemed to deviate from the script.

You paused, voice catching as you tried your best not to let the tears fall--your makeup was too pristine for smears.

"But tonight, as I accept this honor, I am reminded that while we may seek comfort in the presence of others, our truest strength comes from within." Your eyes dart around the audience, clinging to the slim chance he's there, that he showed up. "It comes from knowing that when we step into the moment, we step in with conviction, with passion, and sometimes, with a singularity that says we are enough."

The final words of your speech hang in the air, a brittle hope that disappears as quickly as it surfaced. He proved them right, and no amount of applause can drown out the sound of your heart breaking just a little.

part 2

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179

[redr0sewrites]

Hazbin Hotel Characters with a Goth S/o

this is basically how some of ththe hazbin characters would support their goth s/o- as a goth person this is literally so self-indulgent lmao

🥀Pairing(s): lucifer x reader, velvette x reader, adam x reader, alastor x reader

🥀 Cw: fluff!

Lucifer

lucifer is a little confused and intimidated about your style at first, he definitely asks a lot of questions

VERY supportive once u explain it, hes very much the "okay dear" type

honestly i think he would find it super attractive, the way u express yourself is just so admirable to him

i feel like lucifer is very fidgety and is always losing focus, and one tjing that i do is that im ALWAYS fidgeting with thr chains and accessories on my outfits so like imagine him just standing super close to you and gently rearranging your chains and necklaces for you...

he would let you teach him how to do makeup and eyeliner and would definitely let you practice styles on him!

lucifer would also help you get ready too, always willing to offer some positive feedback or help with makeup and hair

i also think lucifer adores it when you give him music recommendations, and would get super into a lot of the bands that you like

i personally hc him as a siouxsie and the banshees fan bc i just feel like the elegant vibes fit him very well, but i also think he'd like strawberry switchblade too and just goth stuff like that

overall very supportive and super sweet and silly when it comes to your fashion

Velvette

gosh she needs more love

you both are fashion ICONS okay like even before you both become official she is blown away by your style and authenticity

she def designs special fashion items just for you, she makes a whole line of clothes based off of u and ur aesthetic

velvette LOVES matching with you and loves incorporating both of your individual styles into your matching outfits, whether youre more mallgoth or romantic goth or trad goth or anything in between, she is totally inspired by you and your fits and will always want to inspire you in return

def buys you things she seed and thinks you'd like or look good in, regardless of price. her gifts range from thrifted maxi dresses abd fishnets to priceless jewelry and makeup LIKEEEEE omg

velvette LOVES when u wear something she bought for u or designed for u as well

yall are always late for social events bc u HAVE to be the best dressed couple there i swear

also if u wear chunky boots or platforms and ur taller than her???? expect her to pull you down for kisses bc URGH seeing you sm taller than her does something to her

guys i have a type help

Adam

adam thinks your hot af if you're goth

hes the type to make big tiddy goth gf jokes im sorry💀

in all seriousness tho he would LOVE a goth s/o

adam def likes alternative/rock music and he would think it's awesome if you introduced him to some goth bands

he would LOVE the scary bitches, death grips, and also sisters of mercy too

i def think goth people would be much more rare in heaven than in hell, and he would get SO defensive on your behalf if anyone said anything about you or your fashion

honestly hes your number one fan and LOVES giving his input on your fits

honestly your closet doubles when you date him, adam loves seeing you wear his rings and punk jewelry and i def think he has a lot of old band shirts and stuff for his band, so he would love seeing you wear his oversized shirts

if u have piercings WOOWHEE bc adam asks SO MANY QUESTIONS

he thinks theyre so hot ngl, and i def think he has a few piercings and will buy u both matching jewelry

adam would learn to play songs you like on the guitar for you as well

i dont think hed be super keen on letting you put makeup on him but he'd fold after a little persuasion

i honestly think he'd like eyeliner and how he looks wearing it but doesn't want to admit it bc he doesn't want to seem too feminine (but u know ofc)

Alastor

before even meeting you he was fascinated by your style and boldness

alastor loves people who are unique, and someone who chooses to stand out so much definitely catches his eye

he'd find you very aesthetically appealing and would often find himself wanting to be around you more and learn more about you, your style, and goth culture in general

over this time period is probably when he started to develop feelings for you

alastor would def like the romantic/vampire goth look, that whole genre in general is just very elegant and classy while also nonconformist, which definitely speaks to him

when it comes to music alastor would probably be a little skeptical at first, especially when it comes to new technology, however if you (like me) have a record player and vinyl, i def think he would like listening to some of your fav goth bands on that

i dont really know why but i gen think he'd be a fan of the cure, sure its pretty basic but the vibe of some of the songs can be upbeat and kinda jazzy, and they just have that "old timey" vibe i think alastor would appreciate

alastor is fascinated with the process in which you get ready, and enjoys just sitting and watching in peaceful silence as uou do your makeup and pick out your outfit

if you (like most goths) are into creepy and unusual decor, he would LOVE to help you decorate your room

alastor has the strangest taste in interior design and loves sharing his unhinged ideas with you

overall alastor loves people with a lot of individuality and would definitely find a goth partner appealing because of that !!

THIS IS GETTING SO LONG HELP IM PROB GONNA MAKE A PT2 W MORE CHARACTERS HEHE- THIS WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR ALASTOR AND VELVETTE I HOPE I DID THEM JUSTICE!!! WE NEED MORE LOVE FOR VELVETTE SHES SOOOOO AJSJDJD- anywaysssss hope yall enjoyed!!! feel free to req more, esp if u want a pt2 to this >:D

[pucksandpower]

Pretty Woman Moment

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: you have your very own Pretty Woman moment in the glittering shops of Monaco

You take a deep breath of the fresh Monaco air as you walk hand-in-hand with Max down the cobbled streets. He gives your hand a little squeeze and smiles at you. Even after all this time, his smile still makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re both dressed casually — just simple jeans and t-shirts, with caps pulled low over your faces. It’s one of the things you love most about your life here. The two of you can blend in and just be yourselves, without the glare of fame and fortune.

As you pass a small cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out. Your mouth waters.

“I’m dying for an iced coffee,” you say longingly. “Do you mind if we stop for a quick drink?”

Max chuckles. “Of course, schatje. You stay here and keep browsing. I’ll go grab us something.”

He gives you a peck on the cheek before heading into the cafe. You watch him go, your eyes drifting down to admire his cute butt in those jeans. Yup, you’ve definitely still got it bad for him.

Humming to yourself, you continue down the street, peering in shop windows at the latest fashions.

Up ahead you spot the iconic red awnings of Cartier. On a whim, you decide to browse the opulent jewelry shop.

As soon as you enter the store, you can feel the receptionist’s eyes sweep over you, no doubt taking in your casual outfit. Her gaze lingers on your much-loved sneakers. You pretend not to notice as you begin looking at a display of gem-encrusted watches.

Moments later, a saleswoman approaches you. “May I help you find something?” The saleswoman asks in a frosty tone.

You give her a polite smile. “Just looking, thanks.”

The woman’s eyes flick to your sneakers again, and her lips press together in disapproval. Still, she gives a curt nod and stands stiffly nearby like she is waiting for you to leave.

You feel a flare of annoyance at her judgmental attitude, but brush it off. You don’t have anything to prove to her. You know who you are, sneakers and all.

As you admire a display of delicate tennis bracelets, you feel the saleswoman’s eyes on you. She hovers over your shoulder, as if worried you might steal something. You bite back an amused laugh. If only she knew the size of your jewelry collection back home. Max loves spoiling you with extravagant gifts just because.

You wander towards the case of Panthère de Cartier rings, their tiny emerald eyes glinting up at you. As you lean down to admire them, the saleswoman swoops in.

“I’m afraid those particular pieces are off limits to handle without intent to purchase,” she says crisply.

You straighten up slowly. “Of course. My apologies.”

You turn away, irritation prickling. The other salespeople eye you suspiciously too now. Pretentious snobs, you think.

Just then, the glint of your own diamond tennis bracelet catches your eye — the one Max gave you for your anniversary last year. It’s slipped partially down your wrist unnoticed. You nudge it back into place just as the first saleswoman appears at your elbow.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re attempting to steal that bracelet,” she hisses.

You gape at her. “What? This is mine, I’ve been wearing it since I came in.”

“Likely story,” she snaps. “Jacques, could you please call security?”

A bulky guard steps forward, eyeing you distrustfully. “Let’s just take a look at that bracelet, miss.”

Mortified anger rises in you. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say heatedly.

The saleswoman’s expression hardens. “If you make a scene, we’ll be forced to restrain you until the police get here.”

Just then, the door opens and Max strides in, caramel-drizzled iced coffee in hand. His eyes instantly take in the situation. He steps forward, eyes blazing.

“What the hell is going on here?” He demands, voice dangerous. You’ve never seen his racing temper directed at you, though you know it lurks beneath his calm demeanor.

“It’s fine, Max, just a misunderstanding-” you start gently.

He silences you with a look, then turns his glare on the cringing salespeople. When he speaks again, his voice is lethally quiet.

“This is my wife, Y/N, and I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect. She is the most important person in my world.” Though his words are soft, they crack sharply like a whip. “Now apologize. Immediately.”

The saleswoman who accused you blanches paper-white. “M-Mr. Verstappen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Max holds up a hand, cutting off her stammering. His sharp features are carved from stone. “Save it. Your behavior was unacceptable. We’ll be taking our business elsewhere and you can be assured that I will be speaking to corporate.”

But the security guard blocks your path. “Just a moment. I still need to verify this bracelet did not come from our store.” He reaches out towards your wrist.

Quick as a flash, Max grabs the man’s arm, halting him. “Don’t touch her,” Max says in a low, dangerous voice. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the ice in his tone.

The security guard tries to yank his arm away, but Max holds firm. “I suggest you let us leave right now, before I call my lawyer.”

He drops the offending arm as the security guard takes several steps back, then takes your hand gently. “Come, schatje. Let’s get you home.”

Once outside, Max halts and turns you gently to face him. His handsome face is creased with concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from your face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

You lean into his touch, letting it soothe away the sting. “I’m okay now that you’re here. But Max … the way she looked at me, treated me like I was garbage just because of what I was wearing …” You trail off, throat tightening.

Max’s jaw tightens, a storm brewing in his beautiful eyes again. “She had no right to talk down to you that way. No one has the right to make assumptions and treat you like anything less than the amazing woman I know you are.”

Despite everything, you feel yourself smile slightly. No one can make you feel better like Max can but furious tremors in his fingers tell you his wrath still simmers below the surface. You squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, really. Don’t let them ruin our day.”

His expression softens as he looks down at you. “Of course. I just can’t stand to see anyone disrespecting you.” He smiles ruefully. “I may have overreacted.”

You laugh. “Just a bit. But it was gallant of you to come to my defense.” You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly.

Max wraps you in his arms. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. I love you.”

“And I love you.” You take his hand again. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I saw the most adorable baby swans in the harbor earlier.”

The tension eases from Max’s shoulders as you stroll together along the glittering marina. You chat and laugh, the unpleasant scene at the jewelry store already forgotten. Because nothing can touch the happiness you’ve found here, in the sun-drenched streets of Monaco, hand-in-hand with the love of your life.

***

The next evening, you and Max stride arm in arm into Cartier, looking every inch the glamorous millionaire couple that you are. You’re dressed in a slinky black gown with diamond earrings while Max cuts a sharp figure in an Armani tuxedo. The salespeople gape as you saunter in, not recognizing you as the girl from yesterday.

You head straight for the saleswoman who accused you of stealing. “Remember me?” You ask breezily.

She flushes, stammering apologies. You silence her with one manicured finger.

“Let’s start fresh, shall we?” You extend a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“S-Suzanne,” she manages.

“Suzanne, my husband Max and I are looking to make a significant purchase tonight.” You gesture around the lavish store. “You have some beautiful pieces. Why don’t you show us some options?”

“Of course, right this way.” Suzanne leads you to a private viewing room. Hands shaking, she brings out diamond necklaces, tennis bracelets, rings — tens of millions of dollars in jewels laid across velvet.

You and Max pretend to consider each item seriously, before waving it away. “Oh no, that won’t do … this one’s not quite right either …” With each rejection, Suzanne’s smile grows tighter.

Finally you turn to her, feigning disappointment. “Well Suzanne, I’m afraid nothing here has caught my eye. It all seems a bit … subpar.”

She gapes. “S-subpar?”

“Mmhm. I think we’ll try Bulgari next. Their quality is much more superior.” You pause, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I realize this just isn’t going to work out between us.” You gesture around the store. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure this is a fine jewelry store for some people with lower standards, but for me ...” You trail off, shaking your head sadly.

Suzanne is white-faced, swallowing hard. “Please, give us another chance. I’m certain we can find something to your satisfaction.”

You pretend to consider it. “Well … I suppose we could take another look.”

For the next hour, Suzanne desperately shows you their most elite pieces, diamond necklaces worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You and Max have a gleeful time trying them on, admiring yourselves, but ultimately waving each one away.

Finally, after rejecting a spectacular €500,000 art deco diamond choker, you say airily, “You know what, Suzanne? I just don’t think Cartier is right for me. It’s been … educational, but I believe Max and I will be going now.”

As you saunter out, Suzanne calls desperately, “Please come again soon!”

You pause, looking back with a dazzling smile. “I would … but you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.”

And linking your arm through Max’s, you sashay into the balmy Monaco night, leaving the frantic saleswoman behind.

[rottedghuleh]

♡ SLASHER/HORROR ICONS HEADCANONS ♡

UPDATES: My suggestions are open! I have a very small list of others I wanna do, so shoot me a suggestion and I won't shoot myself :). I am hopefully going to expand my writing at some point by either doing stories of my own OCs, fluff, and more things.

♡ A/N: I wanna keep up the writing even though I don't REAAALLLLYYY wanna write a full story smut, mostly because some of y'all seem to enjoy my fanfics and I wanna kinda try something new and silly. So here's some SFW and NSFW headcanons! YIPPEE!! ✨

Who will you all see in this list?:

♡ Michael Myers (RZ version)

♡ Thomas Hewitt (TCM)

♡ Otis Driftwood (HO1000C)

♡ Brahms Heelshire (The Boy)

˚ · . Michael Myers (Rob Zombie version) !

SFW:

♡ Generally, he's very cold. I mean, of course he is, it's Michael Myers.

♡ Michael may not show his love for you emotionally, but I think he would show you in other ways. Either by making or giving you one of the masks he's made.

♡ Total tummy and thigh guy. Michael probably would grab onto you when he wants something since he doesn't speak. Either if it's by him grabbing around your waist or laying a hand across your belly from behind.

♡ Secretly enjoys you playing with his hair. You could run your hands through it, push it out of his face, twirl it around your fingers. He's yours.

NSFW:

♡ A lot of people think that Michael would be rough and a kinky motherfucker in bed, I think that is where you're wrong. You have to consider this man spent a good majority of his life being locked away at Smith's Grove Sanitarium. He's not going to be experienced.

♡ Very handsy in bed. Either if it's gripping at your hips and tummy or holding onto your chest when you ride him. His hands have to be on you. Spreading your legs, touching you, slipping his fingers into your entrance.

♡ Michael is probably very quiet in bed until he gets close. When he feels like he's about to cum, he'll grunt and pant out as he tries to hold himself back from finishing inside you.

♡ The first time he did finish in you, he was more curious than scared. He dipped his fingers into your hole and pulled out whatever wet slick of you and his cum before licking his fingers.

˚ · . Thomas Hewitt !

SFW:

♡ He's a momma's boy, but he will treat you like you're the best thing that has ever happened to you (tbh, you probably are.) Thomas would be a total sweetheart for you and you probably would have him by a leash.

♡ Thomas would gift give. Sometimes it's a ring or bracelet from a victim, or if he wandered off, he would give you wild flowers that he ripped up by the root.

♡ Thomas probably isn't too fond of touching. There are days where he would insist on laying on top of you and won't move until you're almost crushed beneath him. Depends on his mood really.

♡ When you two first got together, Thomas was scared shitless. He was scared to even hold hands with you because Luda Mae had it so drilled into his head about how intercourse was bad before marriage. He of course was probably never taught what intercourse was besides the vulgar things Charlie would say around the house.

NSFW:

♡ Once again, probably didn't know what the hell he was doing. Thomas only knew that the ache in his pants needed to be taken care of. He tends to get sexually frustrated, jerking himself off until he's rubbed raw until you showed him the right way to do it.

♡ Once Thomas caught a scent of your arousal, he was immediately drunk. Since he doesn't speak, he would give you cues that he was in the mood. By pulling your hand against his bulge or by simply picking you up and carrying you off somewhere.

♡ Thomas would make sure Luda wasn't around before he fucked you. He was gentle at first but due to awhile of frustration, he would get rough and fuck you raw. You would often have to calm him down to keep him from fucking a hole into the floor.

♡ If Thomas ever marks you, his fingers would tenderly touch those spots. He may hurt others, but to you, you are his everything and you getting hurt by him was the last thing he wanted. You often would have to reassure him that it was a love bite.

˚ · . Otis Driftwood !

SFW:

♡ If I'm being honest, this is probably one of the meanest motherfuckers on this list. He loves you, yes, but in his own way. Even if he is a jackass and called you names, it was mostly out of teasing than rather being mean.

♡ Helping him with his "art" is one of his favorite things you do for him. Being able to have a living muse for once is better than the dead bodies that he had propped up around his room as "freaks of nature."

♡ This one might come later in NSFW with the same the one above this. Playing chase. Be the helpless victim, tease him, cuss at him. It gets him wound up and to chase you down. The way you would act like a scared rabbit was more fun than just sitting around watching Grandpa Hugo bitch at the TV.

♡ Otis is considered the head of the family, which is meaning he'll try his hardest to provide for you as well. This also means, he's in charge. Otis makes the calls. Not in a possessive way, but in more of a husband role than anything.

NSFW:

♡ Will absolutely fuck you senseless. You talk back? You're getting bent over the counter and being fucked so hard not a single thought will form in your head. Otis loves the fight, even if it's teasing.

♡ Sometimes when you make him chase you, Otis would let the adrenaline get to him and it'll often lead to him getting hard. He'll tackle you to the ground, sometimes even at gun point, and make sure your pretty legs stay open for him.

♡ How he loves making you scream and moan so loud that others hear. Otis has to make sure that everyone can hear that your his. Sometimes that would be making you vocal and other times it would be fucking you right in the kitchen like it's nobody's business.

♡ Cock warming during when he's doing his art. Otis will make sure your pretty little ass stays sitting in his lap and if a single peep comes from you, he'll either pull his cock out and slap it roughly against your entrance or will thrust into you so hard you forget your own name.

˚ · . Brahms Heelshire !

SFW:

♡ Acts of service. Brahms wants to please you no matter what, he wants you to be proud. He'll leave you sandwiches in the kitchen, help you get to sleep at night, etc. You help him, he wants to return the favor.

♡ Brahms is clingy as shit. He has to be next to you, even if the grocery guy comes over. Brahms is around you, clinging onto your side or hips. He follows you like a little puppy.

♡ He'll ask for kisses, of course. It would be in that quiet, innocent voice as well. He'll ask for a kiss and wait for you to pull his mask up enough to see his lips. Brahms will give you small pecks to full blown make out sessions.

♡ Again, with him being clingy, he loves sleeping with you. He had stopped sleeping in his own room whenever you agreed to being with him. It meant long nights of his face buried into your chest and listening to your heartbeat to make sure you're still there.

NSFW:

♡ He's pathetic. Pathetic enough he whines and moans whenever he's balls deep in you. Brahms takes control sometimes, but he also wants you on top, usually riding him. If Brahms gets too impatient, he'll grab your hips and fuck up into you until you're both a leaking mess.

♡ Tease him. Tease his cock, his hole, anything and he'll be a panting slut. Slip a finger in him and it's enough to make his back arch and his legs kick. Just a small amount of teasing in general gets Brahms so turned on.

♡ Brahms absolutely has no sense. He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing. All he would do was pull off your bottoms to be able to have access. He would get on his knees while cooking and make sure to eat you out until you cum on your face. There's probably been a few times where you've had to order take out due to burning the food.

♡ His mask would be long discarded and his mouth latched to your nipple to suck and bite at it. He would get so needy that he would put his cock between your thighs until they are covered in precum. Brahms is needy. That's all.

[evieelyzabethh]

Hey can u do a spike smut

I have another Spike smut fic coming so I'm gonna use this to drop my sfw and nsfw Spike headcannons because fun fact, the buffy brain rot is real and I have over 100 pages of buffy reboot material. anyways...

warning: not proofread

sfw:

Spike purely smokes because he thinks it makes him look cool. I think when it comes to vampires, they either physically cannot feel the effects of drugs or are lightweights. He hates the smell of smoke, hence the duster jacket, and refuses to smoke in his crypt because of the shit ventilation

Speaking of smoking, William was most definitely asthmatic. He had no friends in boys school because too much physical movement sent him wheezing. He did enjoy horseback riding though

He has poetry stashed somewhere, I just know it. Under some slab of rock or rolled in some random alcohol bottle pirate style, it's somewhere.

Spike would love an English major or anyone who has a hobby aligned with creative writing. This doesn't mean he'd automatically show you anything he's written but he'd be more open to the possibility sooner rather than later.

Very picky with what he steals/wears. He will not just put any old rags on. He dressed Drusilla and he is a fashion icon and I stand by that

As for him with a partner, I do think he is the type to fall first and incredibly hard

I think how familiar you are with one another would dictate a lot. If you were a Scooby, I wouldn't say he'd keep his distance, but he wouldn't be super outright with his affection. There'd be some playful banter here and there, dare I say some flirting, and maybe even some gift-giving every now and again. He's like a crow, he'd be the type to drop things on your windowsill just because it reminded him of you

If you two didn't know each other, he'd most definitely be the stalking type. Every time you're walking home from school, there WILL be a dark figure following you around. You're getting harassed by some rando? If you paid attention to the newspaper, you'd see they mysteriously went missing. You can go from eyeing something while window shopping to it magically ending up on your doorstep

Never the one to make the first move. He wouldn't say a word unless he was 100% confident that you liked him back, and even then, there'd be a lot of hesitation

He would love a forward partner. Someone who makes his insecurities melt away and who he doesn't have to worry about them ever getting over him. When he loves, he loves forever. He has all of time to love you and his ideal partner would be someone who wants to spend all of time with him

He is such a romantic!!! I think he would be so into matching couples costumes or just matching outfits in general. Super into domesticity wherever he can get it, decorating a home together, cleaning together, cooking together, doing anything together

Since he can't have a job, I do see him being a house husband. It gives him something to do during the day. Wears a 'kiss the cook' apron and pouts if you don't give him kisses while wearing it. I headcannon that he spent time all over Europe, including France, and had some really good pastries at some cafe that closed like 200 years ago and made it his life's mission to recreate them. The grocery bill is high but it makes him happy

Valentine's Day is his absolute favorite holiday and he makes a big deal of outdoing himself every year. Not in terms of money or extravagance, but meaning. He treats every day as a new one to know more about you. It's not enough to know your favorite color, he needs to know the exact shade, exact hue, and exact context you love it in. He knows your allergies, remembers your favorite outfits, and keeps track of your cleaning habits so he can make everything shiny and new when you forget yourself. He becomes a master of all trades to make you whatever you want exactly how you want it

He does really like Halloween, too. He's a huge fan of the Scream movies. He dislikes when horror movies try too hard. Being so used to gore, blood, and guts, he prefers a funnier, more unserious scary movie

Speaking of blood, he starts out against drinking from you. He used to only do it to kill someone, or at least with the intent to cause harm. He didn't trust himself not to get overwhelmed and hurt you. But I feel like at some point he either gets hurt on patrol or his stash gets low and you both forgot to restock and he has to. It was a very close call, and he couldn't bring himself to even look at you after the fact. He only warms up to it if it's necessary. He avoids it, but there are always slip-ups. He has bitten you during sex a few times when he got a bit too into it. He says he refuses to do it unless it's for your pleasure

He is so obsessed with you, if you couldn't tell. You're his favorite person, favorite scent, favorite taste. Not to be slightly yandere on main, but he would kill for you and kill himself if he wasn't enough for you. Never leave you. Never hurt you. Spike would never.

nsfw:

He is neither an ass or tits guy, he's just a 'you' guy. Absolutely everything about you gets him going. You think it's funny at first until you're trying to eat a bowl of spaghetti and he's staring at you, hard. It's not his fault the stray sauce around your lips looked like blood and vampire you is a very hot concept to him

You guys have to own a house. The noise complaints would be too much and you'd get evicted. I do see him as more of a groaner than a moaner, but sometimes it's just too much and it's both. Sometimes it's just one hand gripping the pillow your head is resting on, the other on the headboard, and his head in the crook of your neck practically whimpering as you milk his cock

You also have a tendency to get pretty loud, and as much as he loves your voice, his super vampire hearing can't take it sometimes :(

Doesn't really matter the position, but it's hard and he's so big. You can feel him in your damn ribs and it's choking you up. You don't even realize how loud you are. It's not until you hear his raspy voice in your ear. "I know, love, I know. It's a lot, but I need you to be a bit quieter. You're hurting me." And you pout a bit and try to mumble apologies that just sound like gibberish. You try, futilely, but surely he must understand that you can't help it. Not when it's this good. He whispers again, rubs where your belly bulges from his dick, but it doesn't seem to work. He eventually flips you over to shove your head in the pillows and you were far too out of it to complain. You like it a bit rough anyway.

As mentioned previously, he is a biter. He can't help it, it's instinct honestly. Its not like you mind, you clench even harder when he does. The sudden smell of iron is drowned out by the stench of sex and sweat, and the piercing feel of his fangs into your neck only stings for a bit. He makes up for it by licking up whatever spills <3 Being with a vampire was always going to be at least a little painful

He likes his hair pulled. You're fingers in his hair in general is heaven on earth, but being pulled around a bit is nice

Has a thing for tearing your clothes off. He really does like being a vampire, feeling big and strong in a way he was never able to when he was human. There is a feral piece of him, maybe its the demon inside him or it was always present, but seeing your clothes in pieces after the fact just scratches the itch in his brain

Speaking of brain, enjoys giving and receiving head equally. Being absolutely obsessed with you, and very secretly obsessed with the taste of your blood, he could die happily with your cum on his lips. Between your legs is his favorite place for real. As for receiving, it's his favorite way of shutting you up in any scenario.

Bruises. Everywhere. Hickeys. Everywhere. He's possessive but not exactly an exhibitionist, they end up along your collarbones and your thighs. Places where they can easily be hidden or revealed

Plays old music because he's old. He refuses to use modern technology because he likes his old as dirt aesthetic but definitely plays sexy orchestral music. I simply do not believe him to be an RnB kinda guy

He likes seeing you in his clothes after!! Going back to the whole love for domesticity thing, it just feels right. He's, shockingly, not always a horny fuck in the morning. Sometimes it feels more right to just look at you, the pretty after sex glow on your face, your messy hair, your cheeks pressed into the pillow. If you get up before him and put on what he had on the night before, it just completes the picture.

When he is a horny fuck in the morning, it's still just as soft and slow as the non-sexual mornings. He likes to be the big spoon simply because it's easier to slide his dick between your thighs and hold your tits at the same time

[reveluving]

OMG!Graves and shy wife are the definition of Gomez and Morticia Addams!!!PLEASE AND THANK YOU ❤❤❤

THIS THIS THIS!!! Swooning because one; Gomez & Moticia and two; Graves and his eternal love for you 💗 >>>

Includes: mentions of s~mut (minors DNI!) & tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Even though I, myself mentioned the Gomez-style arm kisses bit, I actually see it now.

You; a soft-spoken respectful, possibly even an iconic sweetheart who looks at no one but her husband with sparkles in her eyes?

Graves; a proud, brazen and successful rich man who adores his wife like no other? 

Maybe even Kai as Thing? 

I see the vision.

Always making a habit out of kissing your hands, one or both, just the back of it or up your arms like his life depends on it. Or twirling you around before trapping you against his chest or any surface with a cocky smile, feeling your body up shameless as he not whispers, but downright speaks the naughty things he wishes to do with you like he’s reading off a poem book.

Feeling your body heat up against his the more he speaks.

Always having a gift ready for you, whether in a box or a simple bow. Doesn’t matter if there’s an occasion, nor does he only spoil you when he leaves or returns from his work. Deliveries aren’t uncommon, though he prefers actually giving you the surprise himself. To see the corners of your lips twitch as your eyes twinkle at his thoughtfulness. He’s gifted you plenty of things, spoiled you on numerous occasions, but he’ll never grow tired of your reactions. 

He supports your work or interests like no other, because who doesn’t love seeing their beloved happily living their life? 

If you think he doesn’t talk (read: brag) about you to his friends or better, the people he knows who are jealous of him to have you as his dearest wife, then you couldn’t be any more wrong!

One can only imagine how many times he’s woken up before you, complimenting your features, your loyalty, your nature, and just you being his in general. 

Like bro.

He’s undoubtedly blinded by your beauty, indeed!

And your touches.

Ah, your touches.

Your gentle touches contrast with his—not exactly rough (unless you ask for it), but more so experienced, confident, unafraid. A constant reminder of his unabashed character, the lack of suppression or patience he has when it comes to showering you with his love. Something he didn’t know he had in him, nor did he ever have the chance to give it. 

Your touches either make him melt like a hot knife through butter or really, just get a rise out of him, even from anything as little as your fingers caressing his stubble, trailing your nails along his chest in the morning or even a little boop on the nose. 

Now, you don’t need to hear it from me that Mr Graves is also… experimental. 

Positions that’ll have you scream out his name like a prayer, or sex toys to elevate your already extreme level of pleasure. He’s always ready to offer it all, to be at your service, whether to have you squirm and writhe under him on the finest sheets, or tell you how much an angel you are, how the world has gifted him the greatest treasure of all. 

And God knows how different his life may be, how he may be without you by his side.

In the words of Mr Addams himself; “To live without you, only that would be torture.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[syoddeye]

ill-advised

simon x f! reader | 1165 words cw: simon being a gross creep, terrible advice, slimy internet culture, bad usernames, unsolicited nudes a/n: wrote this silly thing on my phone. lightly edited. been thinking about how simon would be the world's worst agony uncle. enjoy a few easter eggs.

Simon doesn’t have a God complex. No. He leaves that to the Simulation 5 streamers who build complicated dungeons beneath their character’s cottages, forcing others to labor on paintings or crochet projects to sell and support their captor’s livelihood. Not that he…watches those. No, no. He’s simply seen more than his fair share of depravity. Some of it at his expense, some at others, and more than a chunk of it dealt by his own two hands. He knows how the world works. How people work. He knows his shit, plain and simple.

So when his schedule allows, he logs on after midnight. His username and password are two alphanumeric strings, but people recognize the cluster of digits and letters. Wait for his comments. Follow his account. Send him stupid digital gifts, some useless currency to dress up his default icon. The amount increases daily, as does his following. His own little cult.

He doesn’t care about the numbers. Not really. He just loves dishing out his honest opinion, and nobody’s safe.

AN [Advice Needed] Family forgot to invite me on a trip, expect me to go last minute Hi, it’s like the title says. I (25 M) live across the country from my parents, siblings (all all adults), nieces, and nephews. I am the only one who lives on this coast, but I try to visit twice a year. I recently reached out to my brother to see when he thinks I should come visit in June and suggested some dates. I know it’s only February, but I want to save money on airfare. He responded: “Isn’t that when we’re going to Hawaii???” It was the first I heard of it. It turns out my parents invited my siblings to Hawaii and planned a family vacation without me. I confronted my parents about it, they swore they invited me too then said I could send them my share of the bill for the resort and book a flight. Like it’s no big deal. I can’t afford to go and I don’t want to go, but I feel really pressured. And sad! They forgot me! Who am I, Kevin McAllister?

> 35J0G39GH6: Find out the resort name. Cancel the reservations. Cease contact.

Within seconds, a dozen upvotes. A minute later, a hundred. Up, up, up. And the replies? Oh, the replies. He smirks at the cracked phone screen.

>> michaelEthelcaine: Fucking brutal as always >> c0y0t3fug1y: LMAO it’s this simple OP - this dude is never wrong >> patcemetery79: I DID THIS BACK IN 2003 FOR A FAMILY REUNION. A REAL RIOT! HAVEN’T BEEN INVITED TO ONE SINCE@ HILARIOUS!!!!!! I LOVE YOU 35J

Simon receives a fair share of downvotes, too. Negative comments. He doesn’t give a shit, but some of them are fucking hilarious.

>> grasshopperwhirlpool: Not funny. Be better than this asshole, OP. I’m sure it was a simple mistake. >> thewildrumpussy: really mature advice. who shit in your coffee?

Every few weeks, a morally righteous do-gooder encourages people to mass-report him, and he gets a slap on the wrist. The idiots come out in droves after some of his more choice replies, like worms after a heavy rain. The most recent offense?

AN [Advice Needed] My husband (35 M) forgot my (33 F) birthday My husband of three years forgot my birthday. No flowers, cake, or gifts. When I came home from work he asked about dinner. I lost it, turned around, and left. I’m at my sister’s house now (and she started baking when I called and told her what happened!) but he won’t stop blowing up my phone. He says it’s because he’s been so busy but here’s the thing: he forgot last year too. I really love him but I’m tired of this treatment.

> 35J0G39GH6: Have your friend take you home between 3-4 AM. Cut his brake lines. Go back to her place. Wait for the inevitable.

>> 6polyesterbutthole9: i dont care if this is illegal its funny af >> passtheaggression: Hand to god, you need your own forum dude.  >> gordonramsme55: Where are the mods on this??? This shit is going to get someone killed. Report this psycho. >>> puffalo: Agreed I think this breaks Rules 3 & 5, reporting now >> austrianPrincess: not saying i did this but when my boyfriend’s brakes failed, i got a big check, OP!  >>> gordonramsme55: This is what I’m talking about!  >>> 6polyesterbutthole9: get that check >> tech60nyneme: WOW someone check this guy’s crawlspace. reported and blocked

That one earns him the most severe ‘punishment’ yet: A month-long commenting ban. No skin off his nose, he's deployed days later, anyway. If anything, the radio silence winds his followers up, their excitement a palpable thing when he gets out of forum jail. He rewards them with another series of blunt, to-the-point pieces of advice. 

His absence makes one particular fan particularly hungry, and a little desperate.

He’s no stranger to unsolicited dick and cleavage pics from his followers. They flood his inbox, giving him a side hobby of delivering pithy degradation the sick fucks seem to love. Saves the best for his private collection. 

But then he gets a picture from some cute thing with a comment about him being her favorite person on the Internet. Knelt all sweet in front of her mirror, haloed by a ring light, white lace barely hiding the goods. His eyes snap to her tits—where his ridiculous username is scrawled in sharpie. There’s nothing to critique except maybe the laundry in the background of the shot. Tugs his cock to it, then clicks her username to check her comment history, and wouldn’t you know. Her location is public on her profile. She’s a couple hours away from her idol and doesn’t even know it. 

>> 35J0G39GH6: Perfection. >> YN10282022: Oh my god, I didn’t think you’d reply. >> YN10282022: You know, a few months ago, you gave me good advice about my creepy boss. >> YN10282022: I posted about the stuff he’d say to me. >> YN10282022: It took some time, but I was able to record him. Sent it over to his wife on their anniversary. When he accused me, I told him HR was getting the next copy. >> YN10282022: I got a promotion and a raise, and sent the file anyway. >> 35J0G39GH6: Good girl. >> 35J0G39GH6: I’ll be in your neck of the woods in a week for work. >> YN10282022: Really?? I’d love to meet up! >> 35J0G39GH6: Probably shouldn’t. I’d advise you against meeting me. >> YN10282022: They do say you should never meet your heroes. :) >> 35J0G39GH6: Shouldn’t meet strangers off the Internet, either.

She still sends him the address of a cafe. It matches one he finds on her social media an hour later. She seems to be a frequent customer. Simon grins at his screen, the sole light source in his dark room. He taps back to her pretty picture.

She looks like an angel.

[hydrngea]

Rafe x reader

They grew up together and as kids Rafe got reader a necklace and she still wears it to this day but Rafe doesn’t notice until she’s all dressed up for midsummer

(This is really random but I thought it was cute lol)

Ur writing is amazing btw! 🫶🏻

perfect pick

a/n : thanks sm!!! i appreciate the compliment :)) i didn’t completely answer the prompt but i might do a part 2 in a couple of days :))

notes : rafe cameron x reader, au to some extent featuring rafes mom before she disappeared.

masterlist | PART TWO

————

rafe could care less about your tenth birthday. in fact, the only reason he even knew it was coming up was because it was all you and sarah could ever talk about lately; what the theme would be, what kind of cake would be the best to eat, who should and should not be invited.

rafe cameron does not care about your birthday- which is why when his mom forced him to come along with her to pick out a present for you, all he wanted to do was jump out of the car and run away.

“but she’s not even my friend.” he whined as they entered the mall, keeping the door open for his mom to go in with wheezies stroller.

“no buts. she’s family, rafe.”

he groans, his steps heavy against the large and perfectly square porcelain tiles of tiffany’s.

“just because she’s your best friends daughter doesn’t mean i have to get her a present.”

his mom shushes him as they approach the jewelry counter, placing a hand on his shoulder before smiling at the associate.

the associate is too enthusiastic to be genuine at this time of day. rafe rolls his eyes at her sickly sweet tone while she asks what they’re looking for. he feels a nudge at his side and his face twitches with annoyance.

“a necklace.” he says under his breath, planning on choosing the first one the associate suggests.

she leads them to the left side of the store, hand gesturing to an array of really expensive necklaces for them to choose from.

“i’ll be right where you found me if you need any help with specifics.” she smiles before abandoning them.

rafe turns to look at his mom, who holds wheezie on her hip. “so?” he shrugs.

“hm?”

he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, “what one do you want?”

his mother laughs, adjusting wheezie on her hip and grabbing her hand, stopping her from dirtying the display with her chubby fingers. “i don’t want any of these. which one does y/n want?”

the question makes him think for a second. he doesn’t know what you would like. he flips through his memories for some sort of indication, but really he should just point to a random piece and call it a day.

red. he thinks, he remembers you saying your favorite color is red- on multiple occasions.

it was red like ladybugs 4 years ago. then red like pretty roses. red like red pandas a couple years before. red like taylor swifts iconic lipstick now.

he shakes his head, then points to a silver chain with a little red charm in it. “that.” he shrugs and then turns on his heel, before his mom can question if its the best choice.

…

he fidgets with the black ribbon wrapped neatly on top of the gift box theyd put the necklace in, eyes tracing over the bolder lettering over and over again as they walked back to the parking lot. he avoids making eye contact with his mom, like for some reason it’d trigger her to go on another rant about how he should act gentlemanly when he gives her the present or at least act like he cares.

they make it to the car without any conversation, save for some half-coherent blabber here and there from wheezie. he slips into the passenger seat while his mom buckles in wheeze into her carseat, the box still in his hands.

halfway through the car ride, the silence between them is broken. “i know you don’t like to talk about your feelings rafe, but you don’t do a great job at hiding your facial expressions.”

“mom,” he groans, leaning the back of his head deep into the leather seat of her escalade.

“i can tell you have a soft spot for her.” she continues, pressing on the brakes as they approach a red light.

“i don’t.” rafe grumbles, fingernail digging into the box and leaving a mark.

“deny all you want, but i saw the way you looked thinking about her. it’ll catch up to you one day.”

he finally brings his gaze to her, his blue eyes meeting her mirroring irises with a glint of curiosity over what her words mean. he makes to open his mouth, to ask what she means by the look. to ask what’s going to catch up to him. but then reminds himself it doesn’t matter and stops himself.

he doesn’t have anything to catch up to him, because he doesn’t have any sort of feelings for y/n.

there’s no way he feels something towards you- could he?

he shakes his head, putting the box to his side and out of his lap and flickering his eyes to his window. why is he letting his mom get into his head?

he doesn’t care about you. doesn’t care about hee stupid birthday, or even care much about the stupid present he chose for you.

—————-

your tenth birthday party is excatly how you wanted it to be. it’s perfectly decorated, with red streamers hung all over the downstairs of your house and taylor swift themed snacks and games. you were having the time of your life, drunk off shirley temples in fancy alcholol flutes.

you notice a stain on your birthday sash and you pout. quickly excusing yourself to drop off the sash in your room, you rush out of your back patio and into the house, making your way towards the stairs when you bump into someone’s solid chest.

here’s one thing to note; regardless of what everyone says, you do not like rafe cameron. “oh, rafe.” you say, taking a small step back-you can feel your cheeks burn under his gaze.

okay fine, the previous statement was a lie. but not completely, it was only a small crush. tiny. as big as the sprinkles on your birthday cake.

“here.” he shoves a small gift bag into your hands and then hastily walks away before you can ask what it is.

the interaction leaves you somewhat disoriented but also flustered, skin pink and pulse fast.

on your past birthdays, you always get one present from sarah and one from her parents. and that’s what you think it is, a present from sarah’s family.

you bring the bag up with you into you room and pull the sash off your body, throwing it into a random corner of your room.

you know it’s bad etiquette to open presents before it’s time, but for some reason you’re too drawn to the gift bag to wait. you peak your head out your bedroom door and find that the coast is clear, and open the bag, pulling out a small teal box with a black ribbon wrapped around it. you shake it close to your ear, guessing it’s some sort of jewelry and grin to yourself when you realize you’re right

you open the box and find the most perfect necklace ever. it’s silver, with a small red heart attached to its chain with your initial engraved onto it.

you’ll have to thank mrs and mr cameron for the gift. it might be even better than the one sarah got you.

you hear your mom call for you from the bottom of the stairs and you quickly shove the box into the top drawer of your dresser, leaving the bag on top of your bed before hurrying back downstairs to rejoin the party.

——-

you’re confused when mrs cameron hands you another gift bag when it’s time to open presents.

“another one?” you ask with your brow furrowed, though you aren’t complaining.

“from me, ward and wheeze.” she hands it to you with a warm smile and a quick wink.

that’s when it clicks that the present wasn’t from who you thought it.

you slip away from the party and rush back up to your room, grabbing the original bag and digging inside for a card or an indication form who it could be from.

there’s a note stuck to the bottom of the bag, made of ripped loose leaf and written with a dull pencil.

“happy birthday” it says, with no signature. but you don’t need one to know who it’s from.

suddenly, your heart starts hammering and your face starts to swell with a smile.

you can’t believe it- rafes the one who got you the necklace, and somehow he managed to make it perfect.

—-

authors note part 2 : i want to say this is extremely UNEDITED so i apologize for any errors and incoherences etc ! there’s a 90% chance i’m gonna take this down and repost this with edits lol.

taglist : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover @of-many-fandomss @dearreader03 @penny4yourthoughts @willowpains

PART 2

[petew21-blog]

Second hand cigar

Halloween has passed, but some parties still had a costume party theme. For example Travis here, a very queer, blonde hair guy unable to find a good last minute costume. His queer friends specified, that it must be something straight-looking, destroying all his plans to go as one of his gay icons.

His look - bleached hair, round colourful glasses and his noticeable gay mannerisms complicated this task.

Travis decided to get inspired in the city, heading to the second hand costume thrift store. He dismissed the idea of going as someone in a uniform, revealing his chest, he was so shy about. The thrift shop manager came to assist him. Before he did, Travis noticed his homophobic looks he gave him, but decided not to make a scene. He really needed the costume.

The manager handed him a biker shirt. "Try it out. I got some other stuff here for you, that would fit you." Travis went to the booth to try it out. He took off his clothes, avoiding the mirror. The shirt slipped right on him, fitting him perfectly. Travis looked back at himself. "I feel so weird, egh. Straight people really have a weird taste."

Suddenly a hand moved the curtain. "It comes with a beanie, jeans and a jacket, I will get it ready for you, before you leave."

Travis felt a weird impulse in his head to take the hat from the guy. He put it on him.

Manager:"You look much better now, sir."

Travis felt as if his confidence was boosted somehow. He felt really good. But it scared him. He wanted to take off his new clothes to return them, but the manager noticed. "No, don't. I want you to have it."

Travis:"I... thank you. I don't know if this is the right fit."

Manager:"I'm sure it is. In fact, I think you look so good in it, I want you to keep it. Free of charge."

Travis struggled a bit financialy, so the fact that he wouldn't have to pay made him feel a bit calmer. "Really? Thank you so much."

They went to the cashier. Travis felt more and more confident in his new clothes. He didn't even notice, that he left his glasses in the booth.

Manager:"Ok, here is a bag for you. Oh, I see you're getting comfortable in your new outfit." manager pointed at Travis's hand in his pants

Travis was shocked to find his hand there, he didn't even notice that he did so. Actually he normally never would have done this. "I am so sorry, sir. I am not really sure what's happening to me right now."

Manager:"You're feeling great in your new costume. That's what this is. Ok, this should be all and you're set to go. By the way, I left a bit of a gift in the jacket for you to use later."

Travis thanked the manager and left the shop. He was so taken back by the fact that he was acting differently. He wasn't sure why, but there was no time to worry about that. There was a party he had to get to.

He threw the jacket in the backseat and sat in his car. He took off his new hat, but another shocked awaited him. "What the fact?! What happened to my hair?!?" his blonde hair turned to its original brunette. But that was not the only thing that changed, his beard grew a bit, giving him a scruffy look.

Travis looked at himself. If he wanted to pass as a straight biker, this would definitely be a good look for him. He didn't want to admit that out loud, but he kind of liked the new look, that the clothes gave him.

He remember the gift, the manager mentioned. He looked through the pockets of the jacket and found a few cigars. "What should I even do with this? I don't smoke..."

He played with the cigar in his hand and looked at his reflection. He placed it in his mouth and looked again. "Oh this looks even better. I'm gonna have the best costume out of all of them." he found a lighter in the same pocket a spontaneously light it.

Travis sat there, enjoying himself. The smoke filling his lungs and the car, the ash falling on his lap. He felt amazing. He didn't look like a fag anymore. He was a man now. Wait. Did he really think that about himself? What about his crush? His crush was a man. But he looked so much better as a biker now than before.

He looked at himself in his camre. He loved his new look. He wanted to be more and more confident. He loved this new rush that the clothes gave him. Maybe if he wore the jacket, he would feel complete. A proper MAN.

Travis reached to the back, the cigar still in his mouth. The jacket smelled like an ollder musky man. Travis was hard now. He was about to wear some other man's clothes. He was gonna be in the clothes that another man was.

The jacket was on and Travis was finally happy. His look was complete. Screw the party. He should be in a bar showing himself off to other people.

But while those tiny transformation took place, something else was happening. Travis didn't notice, that his will was weaker, someone wanted to have a turn in the spotlight. To control this new straight biker body. Travis, drunk by the confidence just simply let go. The force didn't feel dangerous, no. Something that made him feel this good wanted to enjoy the goods too.

Travis closed his eyes, but someone else opened them instead. An ominous gold glow appeared in Travis's eyes for a second.

"Daddy's home." the stranger said in Travis's voice making his voice sound deeper than before. He gave the cigar a large puff and then exhaled.

The stranger immediately grabbed his bulge.

"The fuck... he could have picked a better one. Mine was bigger." he looked at his reflection now.

"Not bad. Gonna give you some improvements and maybe I could keep being you."

Travis's body dialed a phone number. The name of the costume shop appeared above it.

"Hey, guess who's back?!"

Manager:"Finally. I wasn't sure he wouldn't throw the clothes away."

Stranger:"What happened to the original plan, huh? You promised me a hot jock to turn into a biker. This one looks like a fairy."

Manager:"He is one. But that makes it even better, right? We'll get to cancel out some votes as well. Anyway, go to my appartement. The rest of your stuff is still there."

Stranger:"Thank you, brother!"

2 weeks later

Travis was long gone. Or at least that's what Travis's friends told each other. It was something they told themselves to ignore the fact, that their originally queer friend was now a MAGA supporter and a cigar smoking, biker.

Fuck, Travis even changed his looks completely. Whatever happened to him changed him completely. He was now walking shirtless in a vest, very openly showing off his hairy chest, he shaved his head and even gave himself a goatee.

Meanwhile, Dale was now living his second chance at life. His brother helped him get a new body and turn it into a better version of him. He was happy to smoke cigars again, taste alcohol and fuck pussy as he did in his life before. So yeah, fuck the old Travis. Life is amazing!

A story for @hypnosmoke420 with his own original photos. How cool is that? :D

[jacarandaaaas]

What you hate about each Encanto character and what you love about each Encanto character?

oh this is such a fun ask! a hard question as I love all the madrigals and the fact they’re so flawed makes them more fun to follow!

alma: i love her commitment, how she vowed to protect all these people even sacrificing her own needs to provide for others, how she promised these people a place of refudge and was always there to provide.

dislike: An obvious one here but I dislike how controlling alma can be, how her need for perfection can blind her and lead her to disregarding her own families feelings as well as her own! Her generally dismissing a lot of the problems of her family like telling pepa to control her emotions or not realizing how hurtful her comments are to mirabel.

pepa: i love how emotional she is! when pepa loves she loves with her entire heart she pours her all into every interaction and she wears her heart on her sleeve! she’s so compassionate! pepa truly is an open book and I love her for it!

dislike: i would probably say how she can get irrational very quickly and cause situations to elevate fast! Although I really can’t blame her for this based on the circumstances!

julieta: i always describe julieta as warm and i feel like no other word can capture her comforting nature and gentleness. I just love her warmth and her soothing energy!

dislike: I would say how she tends to coddle mirabel a lot. I know it comes from a place of love but you can see it doesn’t help mirabel and only makes her feel more insecure because julieta doesn’t understand her.

bruno: for bruno I would say I love how selfless he is. It’s a big thing to sacrifice your own sanity like that for someone else and it’s touching how much he truly cares about mirabel to want to protect her like that.

dislike: i would have to say how he’s timid a lot of the time. It’s sad to see him become so resigned and almost accept his fate and stay in the walls possibly forever. He had no fight left in him.

felix: I adore how felix is just the epitome of life of the party! he’s so uplifting and I love how he never gives out to pepa for her emotions. He’s the best at cheering people up and a sunshine in everyone’s lives!

dislike: about felix? that’s hard to say I feel like we don’t see enough of him for me to really base my answer on anything so I’m just gonna say how he told pepa about the vision at dinner😭 dude that was the worst idea!!

agustín: i love how supportive he is! He continuously supports julieta he runs after luisa when she’s upset and he promises mirabel he would hide the vision to protect her! the fact both he and julieta tried to go after her when she ran for the candle too! He also fiercely stands up for mirabel in such an iconic way and he doesn’t back down!

dislike: I would have to say how he can often hammer in the fact he is also unexceptional to try relate to mirabel but it makes the situation worse.

isabela: I love how loyal isa is. She was doing everything for the sake of the family and was willing to sign her entire life away just to keep them happy. Her loyalty knows no limits and I just feel it’s such a defining trait for her.

dislike: probably how smug she can be at times a key example being the apologize scene! it is funny but it’s also infuriating how smug she was making mirabel apologize for something she didn’t even do. Also how she tells mirabel to shut up and her general rude remarks to her!

dolores: for dolores I would say I love how attentive she is! small scene but how she immediately notices alma needs help and goes to offer her support! She notices the small details even without her super hearing! Like how she points out how mariano talks loud even though she hears everyone’s voice his always stuck out to her <3

dislike: probably how she blurts stuff out without thinking it through! like we know she was trying to be helpful when she told the kids mirabel doesn’t have a gift but she didn’t consider how mirabel would feel about that.

luisa: I love how kind luisa is! she was always willing to lend a hand to the people who need her even when they absolutely could deal with a lot of issues themselves! She’s also very sensitive and soft and I love when she allows herself to be vulnerable!

dislike: this might be unexpected but for dislike i would have to say how she kept ignoring mirabel when she wanted to talk. I understand she was stressed and mirabels being irritating but she could atleast look at her, mirabels already ignored a lot already and all she wanted was to talk to her sister about an issue.

camilo: like how mirabel says in the opening song I love how camilo won’t stop until he makes people smile! whether it be through his humor or his compassion I get the impression he would always be there for people. the scene where he comforts pepa is such a key example of this!

dislike: he can be a bit too blunt at times where it’s definitely not called for! he also has a tendency to exaggerate the truth for dramatic effect!

mirabel: have always said this and always will mirabels core trait is her empathy! Her ability to see others perspectives and empathize with them is so important! I always think of the “I need you” scene as a key example of this. She put aside her own feelings and focused on supporting antonio making sure he’s ok! how when she learns of the other madrigals struggles she tries her best to help them or comfort them! empathy is such a strong defining trait for her!

dislike: when it comes to mirabels negative traits I would have to say her stubbornness is the most prominent. the entire scene in isabelas room is proof of this she would have rathered let that house collapse than apologize or even listen to isabelas struggles the fact she was supportive and empathic to everyone’s issues but isas (at first) she was too stubborn to put aside her issues with isa! but also her recklessness and impulsiveness tie into this as well.

antonio: I love everything about him he’s so sweet and caring and I love how he returns the support mirabel gave to him! he always believed in her and was her biggest supporter and best friend! also how offered his plushie to comfort bruno when he was nervous! antonio is just such a caring kid!

dislike: nothing literally nothing how can u dislike this baby?

[chimielie]

i swear that i will hate you 'till forever

summary: Yaku x F!Reader. sometimes divorce is what you really need to strengthen a marriage

word count: 1.2k

cw: angst, alcohol, pr marriage gone extremely wrong, yaku is older by six years, reader is a socialite with no life skills or healthy coping mechanisms, yaku also has no healthy coping mechanisms, no one in this story is doing well, The Judgment of God Himself, also blasphemy

a/n: heeey long time no see. i actually genuinely don't know when i wrote this, i'm just emptying my drafts of all the half-written fics i have locked in jail. i do still like this concept a lot so shoot me an ask if you want to know more about what i had planned for the full thing :)

Morisuke hates weddings.

He stares up at God, who is trapped in a little circle in a bigger circle, surrounded by gorgeous, centuries-old paintings of angels and saints and little red devils. Everything is gold, the flickering light of hanging chandeliers shining down to gild a rapt audience, even as the real people seem to pale in comparison to their artistically rendered counterparts. Standing here, surrounded by ornate displays of divinity, Morisuke has never felt so wealthy in spirit and physicality. He wasn’t raised in this religion, nor was he ever baptized into it as an adult, but he doesn’t find a seed of objection in himself he’d though he would. The icon he thinks is God looks both mournful and benevolent. All the shining things make Morisuke feel as though he’s looking into a mirror.

The people rustle, whispering among themselves. A stray string instrument sounds, alone and twanging into a silence far greater than itself, and Morisuke almost misses it when the orchestra starts up moments later. He has a headache, the kind that gets worse because he’s so irritated that he has one at all.

He looks down and away from God, straight into the blinding flash of a camera. His only reaction is a slight narrowing of the eyes, the closest he’s come to flinching in years. When the spots clear from his vision, you’re there, an angel from the fresco come to life, a goddess in the church.

Morisuke folds his hands. It feels only right to pray, the way he’s seen it on television, the way some of his teammates do before matches. You stare at him as you walk down the aisle, light playing over your dress in shining bursts that make his head throb harder. He can’t find any bridal tears in your eyes.

He shifts in his dress shoes, fights not to run his hands through his carefully-styled hair. The air-conditioning is too strong, meant to keep a thousand pressed-together people from overheating, or perhaps it’s the winter air leaking in through the great doors. You reach the stairs to the altar, wobbling a little on your first step up, though the movement is so minuscule anyone but him wouldn’t have noticed. Without thinking, Morisuke reaches a hand out to steady you. Your fingers press hard into the flesh of his palm, gripping him bruisingly tight. He can barely pull his hand away fast enough. The music stops, and Morisuke takes in a deep breath, while your chest doesn’t move to inhale or exhale. This is the last moment before you are knotted together irrevocably for life. A groom who hates weddings for a bride who doesn’t cry.

one year, eight months later

If you tilt your head up and almost close your eyes so that you’re looking through your lashes, you can pretend that you’re floating among the stars. You do so, walking backwards, tipping champagne down your throat as you go, trying to envision yourself as a constellation. You’re pretty sure you are one—Morisuke’s gift to you on your birthday, the first one after you’d married. The tabloids had eaten it up. You, watching him board a plane through the social media stories of your so-called friends, hadn’t felt quite as romanced as your picture in the news claimed.

You had forgotten about the constellation. Perhaps it had stuck in your subconscious, though; it was awfully romantic. Perhaps that’s why you had chosen the planetarium as a venue for tonight, though in the light of day it had been the midnight blue velvet and shadowy, domed ceilings that had cinched it for you. But you throw a lot of parties, and you don’t need any more sentiment in your life than what you’re currently suffocating under. You’ll come back on your own, you decide, finishing off your glass and plucking another from the nearest hand to you. You like being lost amongst your guests, freewheeling in space even without oxygen to breathe.

You stumble as you continue your backwards, meandering path through the party. You kick off your shoes, lab-grown crystals chipping off as they bounce. You don’t notice. You’ll buy more. You could buy the whole stupid world, with your husband’s money that he throws at you so he doesn’t have to come home and face you. Your husband who leaves you alone to do whatever you please. Alone, dancing among the stars.

Morisuke was twenty-eight when he proposed to you; you had just turned twenty-two when you said yes. You had been officially seeing each other for three months and acquaintances for nearly a year prior.

The story of your first meeting the interviewers knew was one you and your husband had told many times. A mutual friend had introduced you at a high-profile event and said, blatantly, that the two of you should “make babies.” Morisuke was smooth; you were flirtatious. The story played out like a romantic comedy, ending in a fairytale wedding.

You and he had kept the real story for yourselves, to take out and admire in times of trouble, to tuck away in your pocket like a note between secret lovers.

You were running through a rose-garden maze, eyes over your shoulder, hands fisted in your skirts. He had been walking a perpendicular path to yours (looking for someone else, another lover, you’d later learn) when you had tripped right over him, tumbling head over heels through the flora and into a new sector. Your breath knocked out of you, it was all you could do to stare up at the sky and try to laugh.

“Miss?” He’d called, ducking through the opening, pushing stray rose canes away. “Miss! Are you alright?”

He sounded so formal. You accepted his hand up, but only pulled yourself into a sitting position, trying desperately to catch your breath. He was so handsome, it was making things much harder. Inconsiderate of him, you thought

“I’m fine,” you managed, eventually. “Are you?”

“No more bruised than usual,” he’d returned, teasing. You cocked a brow. “I’m an athlete. I dive face-first onto hardwood floors all day."

For reasons you couldn’t recognize, you’d taken his hand, pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. His forearm toward the elbow had a nasty bruise, as he had said. You ran a careful finger over the discoloration, and he hissed.

“How was my form?”

“Awful,” he said frankly. “But—“ He’d seemed to get lost there, watching the way the sunlight filtered through the clouds and played across your features. With all the raw honesty of someone saying something they hadn’t even known they were thinking, he opened his mouth and said: “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

On a slight breeze, the petals you’d knocked off drifted around the two of you, catching on his shirt, in your hair. They pooled between you, and when you ducked your head down they were all you could see.

You fell in love during that first meeting.

He never fell in love with you at all.

[cissa-calls]

Rewatching Crimson Peak & Things of Focus and Notice:

As a child at her mothers funeral, Edith wears butterfly/moth earrings

Is the pen her father gifts her the one she later uses to stab Lucille? He describes the importance of having “The right tool for the job,” is that foreshadowing for gifting her the tool to begin her escape from Crimson Peak?

Is Edith wearing a butterfly hair clip when she dances the waltz with Thomas?

Lucille’s iconic crimson red gown is so detailed, so beautiful. It represents the skeletal ghosts with its spinal column along the back, crimson peak itself in color, the carapace of a bug on the sleeves and structure, and the upper bodice has trim that blooms outward (present similarly in her blue gown) but is bisected by buttons…creating a familiar shape…a moth?

The candle they hold during the waltz is held at the same level Edith holds her iconic candelabra, a subtle parallel

The trim on the collar of Lucille’s black dress references the spikes and trims of gothic architecture - which is very heavily featured in Allerdale Hall

Lucille says that: “At home we only have Black moths, formidable creatures but they lack beauty.” Knowing the parallel between her and moths, it implies that she sees herself as a survivor and powerful, but something no longer beautiful because of it

Lucille places the butterfly she holds directly into the ants, an action that’s brutal but quick. Is it foreshadowing to her execution of Edith’s death? Something quick for such a beautiful thing, done by her hand?

The LOOK Lucille gives Thomas when they realize Edith’s father knows their past. THE LOOK (JESSICA CHASTAIN YOUR ACTING)

“You seem the more collected one my dear” Lucille is called this. She always holds the mission undetered in her mind, as opposed to Thomas who seems more easily swayed by emotions

When Thomas breaks Edith’s heart by ripping apart her book. He says: “What do you dream of? A kind man? A pure soul to be redeemed? A wounded bird to be nourished?” He is telling her exactly what he is. None of those things, none of the dreams she has built of him in her mind. Not with a past and life such as his.

The significance of gramophones and wax cylinders: it is what plays when Edith’s father is murdered, it is also what saves her from meeting the same fate

I want to know more about Lucille!! Her character is so rich, so so complex, she needs more screen time!!

Need a prop replica of the ring NOW

[the house] “is a privilege we were born into, one we can never relinquish” METAPHOR ALERT METAPHOR ALERT metaphor for the cycles of abuse and trauma they could not break

HOW THE FRICK did I MISS the fact that Thomas’ workshop is in the attic when that was where him and Lucille were locked up as children. SO MANY IMPORTANT SCENES HAPPEN THERE. So many significant to their past we never see, so many ghosts not visible but are so real and present to have caused this

The trail of smoke like red essence that emanates from the ghosts as they walk, like they are still bleeding

Lucille’s hair looks black in darker lighting, but a dark brunette in others. It’s provides a black, dark shroud when she’s in America, and catches more light when she’s in Allerdale Hall

“I like to think she can see us from up there. I don’t want her to miss a single thing we do.” UM MA’AM

“…in time, everything will be right” LUCILLE QUEEN OF FINAL OMINOUS STATEMENTS IN SCENES

The amount I WISH to explore this set. To pry apart each detail and pick apart each piece, so much of it had to be handcrafted pieces for the movie or vintage pieces sourced for it. LET ME IN

THE LIGHTING MUAH

The ghost in the hallway has a rope dragging behind her…is this a gory detail, or an allusion to how she may have died (if not by poison)?

The ghost in Edith’s dream is pointing, though it is never shown to what. Is it to the exit, her warning to leave as all the other ghosts try to do?

The children’s laughter after the presumed scream of their mother’s ghost as she is stabbed, is it just for creepy effect, or did Lucille and Thomas actually laugh after they murdered her?

The scar on Lucille’s lip? Never noticed it before!

Not the first time I’ve noticed it, but the act of her clutching hot steaming food with her bare hands is chilling every single time

Were the bodies of Thomas’s wives left in the vats of clay? I don’t know HOW I didn’t make that connection before, originally i thought it was merely for creepy effect.

Many people villainize Lucille and try to make Thomas out to be solely a victim. But as stated in the wax cylinder, he was fueled by his desire to pay for and make his machine. Him and Lucille are both complacent in using their victims money for their own gain

We need to bring Chatelaine’s back into fashion. That is all.

The scrape of the spoon over the porcelain cup, it screeches and is a subtle way that shows Lucille act of caring has a harshness to it, an unpleasant sound resulting from an otherwise pleasant action: tending to Edith

Such an interesting camera choice to have the camera focus in a circular inwards and outwards

also also Lucille has a temple scar on her forehead?

The small amount of glee Lucille takes saying Edith “thought [she] was a writer” as she throws the pages to her novel in the fire.

The absolute deadpan, matter-of-fact-ness Lucille has to Edith when she signs the papers “you have nothing to live for” & “mercy killings.” This is a familiar repeated cycle

“Sign your name! Sign your bloody name!” Bloody is not just for emphasis. Edith’s name is soon to be nothing but blood

Lucille’s night gown sleeves as she flies down the stairs in pursuit - like a moths wings fluttering towards its prey

Lucille and Edith fought each other with bare feet on the stone and in the snow

Lucille is the only one of the two who knows how to start Thomas’s machine, because she was the one who witnessed it working

It is only the stab wound on Thomas’ face that bleeds and smokes when he is a ghost, perhaps because it is the wound that bears his betrayal by Lucille, reminiscent of tears of his lingering pain

Edith now has a facial scar, gifted to her by Lucille, who bore ones of her own. It is a passage, a continuing of the cycle, but it is its finale. It is Edith’s souvenir from Lucille, who took her own souvenir (her hair) from the other like a prize

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Marion Davies (Show People, the Patsy)— JUSTICE FOR MARION DAVIES. I am always so upset when I learn that some people STILL think she was some untalented pretty face who was only a success because of her relationship with Hearst. Please watch literally any of her movies, silent or sound, to see how untrue this is. She was successful in spite of Hearst's constant meddling. She really shines as a comedienne. Just watch her imitate other silent stars in The Patsy, or her screwball antics in Show People. I've watched so many silents just for her, but she was also really good in sound films, too, like Blondie of the Follies. She's absolutely adorable, and she deserves to be recognized for her talent, alone.

Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.

This is round 3 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.]

Marion Davies:

the queen of comedy

 If anyone is looking for a tragic infamous funny fav, this is your girl! She came from a catholic convent to become a showgirl! As many of these early Hollywood stars, she fell victim to falling in love with the wrong man. She had a long lasting affair with a older powerful married man, William Hearst. Their story was so iconic and scandalous that it is largely what inspired Citizen Kane. She gained her fame through him, which eventually gathered her the reputation of being social-climbing and taking advantage of more her looks than her talent. This made her controversial, which wasn't helped by her flirty fun personality and attitude towards other actors (including Charlie Chaplin). All of this hate meant that she was eventually ostracized by Hollywood and even blamed for Hearst's death. My poor girl was excitable, funny, charismatic, energetic, and extremely talented. I believe that at her heart and soul, she was truly a clown. She possesses an incredible gift for mimicry, a deceptively animate face, and an absence of on-screen ego that allows her to throw herself into anything, no matter how foolish or potentially embarrassing, with all of her considerable energy. And it's those ridiculous moments that are almost always her best in film, because to me, that's really who she was. She was silly and sweet and so so so so so funny! And she deserved better than the tragedy of the life she got.

Rita Hayworth:

Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.

She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image

Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.

HELP

She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal

every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good

I just have a lot of feelings about her

[crazystargirl]

it's over y/n! i have the high ground! ♥︎

pairing - jack champion x fem!reader

(NOT PROOFREAD)

a/n - this is literally as old as my writing acc- (p.s. this may be one of the last jack/ethan fics i ever post since ong coriolanus snow HAS A CHOKEHOLD ON ME)

"Y/n, my allegiance is to the Republic, to Democracy!"

How did you get here again?

Oh yeah, Jack had dragged you to Disney World a few days early and it was all fun until he dragged you into the gift shop and spent a whole hour there.

You were utterly convinced that your boyfriend was secretly a 10 year old. Like who goes to Disney World and buys 300 dollars worth of lightsabers? Only Jack but you had to admit some of them were actually really cool.

And the minute you guys got home, Jack insisted on recreating a scene from one of the movies. You initially said no since you were exhausted from the day's events but Jack gave you his puppy eyes, knowing you couldn't say no to those. You gave in and he decided he wanted to recreate Anakin and Obi-Wan's iconic fight from Revenge of the Sith.

As much as you wanted to be Obi-Wan for obvious reasons, Jack once again convinced you to let him be Obi-Wan. God you loved him but sometimes it wasn't fair how easily he was able to convince you.

So here you were now and after rereading the script for that scene, you finally got down the lines. 

"If you're not with me, you're my enemy" you manage to say with a straight face despite wanting to laugh because of Jack's overly dramatic shocked face. 

"Only a sith lord deals in absolutes, i will do what i must"

"You will try…"

You both ignite your lightsabers and Jack immediately advances over to you, clashing his lightsaber with yours. Since he is taller and stronger you stumbled back a few times, but were able to get back on your feet and return his hits with the same energy.

After fighting for what felt like hours, you guys had made a huge mess of all the pillows in the hotel room but you could care less. 

Eventually you're standing on the couch and Jack is standing on the bed, which in all honesty makes him more intimidating than before since he's so tall. His head is also about to hit the ceiling but you're not about to mention that to him. 

"I have failed you y/n. I was never able to teach you how to think"

You suppress a smile as you say your next line.

"I should've known the jedi were plotting to take over…"

"From the sith point of view, y/n my love, chancellor palpatine is evil"

You giggle so much at his words that you almost fall off the couch

"From the jedi point of view! Jack, from my point of view the jedi are evil"

"Well than you are lost!"

"This is the end for you my love! I wish it were otherwise"

You jump on the bed and start fighting with Jack until you end up on the couch again.

"It’s over y/n, I have the high ground!"

"You underestimate my power jack!"

"Don't try it baby"

You start to jump on the bed and Jack hits you in the knee with the light saber. You let out a scream and Jack freezes, actually thinking he hurt you. You use this to your advantage and get on the bed, forgetting about what actually happened in the movie. 

After fighting for 5 minutes, Jack gets you on the ground and pins you there with his body weight

"Jack get off of me! You're so fucking heavy!" 

"Noooo you have to surrender first!"

He starts peppering kisses on your face as you struggle from under him.

"Ok Jack, i actually surrender, i'm gonna actually suffocate from under you."

He got up and wrapped himself around you. You wrapped yourself around him too and you guys just stayed like that for a while. Eventually you started squirming to let him know you guys needed to get up. He got the hint and untangled himself from you.

"Well that was fun but we're leaving tomorrow and we need to clean up the mess we made…"

Jack gets up and looks around. He stands there for a bit and thinks.

"Why don't we just go get some food first?"

"Jack…we have to clean up and then we can get food."

He turns back to you and throws you over his shoulder. He starts walking to the door of the hotel room.

"I think we can go get food and then we can clean up…or play again" He says with a smirk.

You sigh and stop trying to escape from his grasp. Your boyfriend is truly something else

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