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cissa-calls · 4 months

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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 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

#a very exhaustive list from my most recent rewatch of one of MY FAVORITE MOVIES #crimson peak #many many thoughts #lucille sharpe #edith cushing #thomas sharpe #cissarambles

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saturngalore · 1 year

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fatfruitychic 🌈

a colorful lookbook stylized for fat sims 😇

tysm to all the cc creators <3 i was heavily inspired @mycatzfave, b3v.ie on insta, and la’shaunae’s clothing collab with tunnel vision! not gonna sugarcoat this but unfortunately there will be some clipping and weight limits because ya know…art imitates life. hopefully, fat fashion gets wayyyy better both irl and in the sims SOON. cc links below ⬇️ tsr, mega, simsdom warnings **

🍒 sweet cherry cola (naomi) ~ a) cherry earrings** b) bella top c) low waist skirt d) maverick platforms

extras: kim hair, butterfly necklace, dragon claws, butterfly chain belt, whale tail, butterfly anklet

🍊 tangerine dreams (khadijah) ~ a) goldfish earrings b) keek top c) jada tote bag d) bitter end bottoms

extras: sandals, honey locs

🍯 metallic honey (monét) ~ a) nihilist blue top and gloves b) layla skirt c) mynx tights d) mei buckle boots

extras: alannah hair, choker, leg garter spikes

🥝 neon kiwi kisses (zahara) ~ a) chaewon fishnet gloves b) funhouse halter top c) juice jeans

extras: daija dreads

🌠 baby blue estrellita (yeonji) ~ a) headphones b) just dance top c) star maxi d) lara slides

extras: hystrix hair, ebano eyeliner

💟 amethyst passion (xolani) ~ a) jules gloves b) converse top c) baggy sweats d) platform shoes

extras: amaya hair, flashback eyeliner

💕 bubblegum heaven (nylah)~ a) alex earrings b) tye dye butterfly top c) material girl thong d) soho maxi skirt e) sun & moon accessory top

extras: vintage headphones, chunky sandals**, glumbut braids, 90s resin rings

🖤 midnight rose (mimi) ~ a) sunglasses b) fishnet top** c) long low waist skirt d) platform sandals

extras: sasha hair**, waist beads, tramp stamp, 90s nails

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #the sims #black simblr #ts4 lookbook #black simmer #ts4 edit #ts4 edits #🪐#naomi moore #nylah rivers #choi yeonji #zahara broussard #mimi carmichael #monét campbell #my first lookbook 🤩🤩#im no fashionista but i think i did okay!#🪐 lookbook

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amethystfairy1 · 8 days

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I SWEAR I DIDN’T FEVER DREAM THIS!!!

Ok so this has been living rent-free in my brain for so long and I NEED HELP there is this clip I remember seeing of Joe Hills singing for Vintage Beef, and the part I remember is him going ‘are you in a vintage car? are you far, far, far awaaaaaaaaaaaay where are youuuuuu Vintage Beef?’ and it was SO FUNNY TO ME but I just CANNOT FIND IT ANYWHERE so pls I beg if you know where this is from or know the clip please tell me please please please

#hermitcraft #joehills #vintage beef #PLEASEEEEEE

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trick-or-fucking-treat · 9 months

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Hi!! I hope you are doing well! But I was just wondering if I may request head-cannons for Bo Sinclair with an s/o who dresses in vintage fashion? (Vintage clothes, hair, jewelry, makeup, etc…) If not, that’s cool! Thank you and have a wonderful day!

Bo Sinclair with vintage style (fem) S/O

Masterlist

First things first, Bo is a pretty traditional guy so he loves your vintage style!

Buuuuuut… it takes him a while to realise how much he likes it.

Bo is used to seeing pretty victims girls stroll through his little town, but those girls are a different kind of pretty y’know.

Bo knows very well that he finds tight jeans and skintight tops attractive.

So seeing you in a much more traditional style with your beautiful bright flowing dresses and perfectly curled hair-

He has to do a double take.

It doesn’t take him long to realise he finds you gorgeous.

Not just the look, but the cute little accessories like your handbags or hair clips just make it all the sweeter for him.

When you’re in an established relationship Bo’s always on the lookout for jewellery that fits your style.

(It’s a pretty sweet gesture, but you may want to question its origins if he gives you jewellery)

Also will not let you come keep him company in the garage while you’re ‘all dolled up’ - his words.

Far too afraid of getting your dresses ruined.

But will absolutely give you some coveralls to wear if you really want to stay with him.

(He secretly loves seeing you in them cos you tie a cute coloured bandana round your waist like a belt because the coveralls are too big, and he thinks you look like those fifties posters of working women* which is really cute!)

Kind of expects you to take on the house wife role a bit in the home.

Cooking, cleaning, etc.

(Aka all the jobs Bo, Vincent, and Lester typically neglect)

It’s part of the reason he let you stay in Ambrose in the first place, only to end up falling in love with you.

If you have no problem taking on these roles, great! Happy family!

If it’s not how you’d ideally spend your day, don’t be afraid to stand up to him.

Bo’s really the only one who bosses anyone around, Vincent and Lester wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do.

So if you stand up to Bo and tell him you won’t be taking on all the domestic tasks yourself, you’ll probably shock him enough into agreeing with you.

You typically have such a sweet demeanour that telling Bo off would probably catch him off guard.

If you use the power sparingly enough, he’ll come to realise that you only ever call him out on his bullshit if he’s being genuinely unfair and is very quick to make it up to you.

Tried to make you a pie once to make it up to you after being an ass, but it went horribly, so you spent the day with him baking a pie properly.

He’ll never admit it but he had so much fun and absolutely loved spending time with you in such a domestic task.

(Next time you bake something ask if he can help out and make it sound like he’d being doing you a favour (he wouldn’t) and he’ll jump at the chance to bake with you without having to admit he likes baking)

A/N: hope these are ok! Lmk if you have any other ideas or requests!

*for reference, these are the fifties posters I’m talking about:

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #house of wax #Bo Sinclair x reader headcanons #slasher #slashers x reader #vintage #vintage reader

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acupofqueercoffee · 1 year

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“Offer me the deathless death”

Andromache the Scythian x Female Reader

request ( found here ) by @nightly-polaris

|･ω･) go wild, you said and go wild, i did. i included as much of the provided details as i could. hopefully, you’ll find it agreeable

cw : 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ // dubcon-ish // ✂️ ✂️😼 // overstimulation

casually quoting hozier for all my andromache fics. that fight scene on the plane and the way she grabbed nile by the jaw tho 😩 wanted to incorporate it in a fic ever since i saw it, and fucking finally did

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Hallucinations. A fever dream.

Anything but reality is what you tell yourself, and what a job you have been doing thus far! Fantastically foolish if nothing else. Cocooned in a bubble of lies that spill forth none other than your lips, and illusions that are carved by your very mind itself, you harbour not a droplet of doubt that the reality in front of your eyes is nothing but bona fide.

People after all are the most masterful at fooling themselves.

Ensnared in a web of deceit weaved by your fingers lie no hapless preys, but you, yourself, who revel in the sweet taste of false security as you do in the richness of the creamy warm chocolate drink that coats your tongue.

Even though business in your shop today is notably satisfactory if not the most profitable, it is not the digits that matter to you the most. Your little shop is borne purely out of your profound passion and desire; obligation is out of the picture. It is where you feel the most at home, doing what you love while bathed in the aroma of freshly ground coffee and cocoa.

Amidst brewing a cup of americano as per the order of a customer with stylish sun-glasses and a striking jawline, your dress is accidentally soiled. Little do you know, the scatter of black and bitter constellations along the pristine white of your sleeve is merely the dawn of a darker, more bitter happening.

──────── ༻✿༺ ────────

Finding you has been relatively easy.

When the familiar dreams begin plaguing her usually dreamless nights, a telltale sign of a new immortal on the horizon, Andromache has half a mind to ignore them altogether. Had she not seen the places that stoke recognition amongst the wild tapestry of images, she certainly would have. But alas, her target, as it so happens, is no stranger to her. By no means does the Scythian know you. Nor you, the Scythian. New immortals bring together with them an assortment of risks, one of them being the exposure of their secret. It is with such knowledge in mind that Andromache feels obliged to set out for you despite her reluctance. You living in the neighbourhood of her temporary place of residence only makes the search all the more convenient.

Being a warrior for many a millennium has developed a vast array of tactical traits into personal trademarks. Those that once upon a time had had to be mindfully exercised, now occur as easily and effortlessly as breathing, involuntary more often than not. Beneath the dark shades of a spectacle perched on a well-defined slope of a nose lies a pair of sage green eyes, scanning the vicinity of wherever she goes like an eagle on a hunt. They have landed on it then, during her visit to a store, standing adjacent to it is a cafe in the name of “Trouvaille”. The Scythian is not one to be easily intrigued, but what a lie it would be to say that the charming building with its vintage air and curious name had not tickled her fancy. Or its owner whom she has noticed is all sweet smiles and dulcet eyes.

Eyes which she has only seen from afar then, now she stares directly into them. Protected by the shades, the intense greens study you with brazen openness, roaming all over your frame, from the tiny clips that decorate your cascading hair like colourful Christmas lights to the butterfly pendant that dangles from a simple silver chain, hovering directly above the dip of your throat, from the little flower prints on your dress, the skirt of which softly caresses your thighs, to occasional glimpse of seemingly soft flesh that teases the Scythian, left uncovered by a pair of white thigh-highs.

It is retrieving you that is the hard part.

Immediately upon arrival, Andromache has read your features for perhaps a trace of recognition. You paying the Scythian a visit in her dreams can only mean one thing after all: that she, too, must have appeared in yours. Yet, no widening of your eyes greet her, only a smile that does not waver.

“Hi, welcome to cafe Trouvaille. What can I get you?”

“Americano will do. Hot.”

Beside the fact that it is broad day light, a few people roam the place. As capable as Andromache is of manhandling you, it is not in her best interest to attract attention. The situation calls for patience. Rushing will spell only more trouble at best. Wait she must, and so, wait she does.

Leisurely, the Scythian sips her coffee, studying you periodically as she does so. It is after some minutes have ticked by, the cup of coffee sitting on the table, empty and cold, that she decides to fish a book, leather-bound and well-worn, out of her backpack. Thumbing through old pages, Andromache spends the better part of the wait indulging in literature, until one by one, people start trickling out of the shop.

In due time, it leaves only the Scythian and you.

The sky has taken on a deep orange hue by the time she stands to approach you. She eyes you surreptitiously, and upon confirming that she is not at the receiving end of your attention, the Scythian moves to lock the door. Ever the diligent wielder of caution, she does not forget to flip the little dangling plate. The letter “We’re closed.” that is carved into the wood will help ward off potential visitors.

Even as she walks towards the counter, you do not seem to notice her for you are kept occupied by the book in your lap, fingers busy scribbling onto paper. It is the tinkle of porcelain on marble as she drops the cup and saucer atop the counter that finally has your eyes zeroing in on her. She watches you watch her. Backdropped by the sunset with her shades finally tucked away into the pocket of her jacket, the sight of the Scythian brings about a subtle shift in your mien. Although fleeting, the furrow of your brows that must have been imperceptible to others, does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, again. I hope you’ve had a good time.”

The smile that you give her is sweet, if not the most genuine.

“Why don’t we save the pleasantries, hm?” The smile that touches her lips, in contrast, has a hint of sourness. “You’ve seen me before.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I have.”

Your answer only brings about a twofold increase in the Scythian’s irritation. Judging by the slightest delay in your response, she knows that you are well aware that she has not meant it as a query, and so, she says as much.

“It wasn’t a question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have mistaken me for someone else.”

The adamant denial from you has strong, slender digits tightening around the strap that is slung over one shoulder.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you? You died, and then you woke up, saw a bunch of people you had never seen before in your dream, including me.”

“But, that was- No. Surely it was-.”

“Look, kid-” Forming into a thin line are Andromache’s lips as she takes a moment to compose herself, slowly huffing out an exhale through flared nostrils. “-I know you’ve got questions but I need you to come with me first.”

“No. No, I don’t think so. This isn’t real. None of this is real. Leave, please. I need you to leave.”

Lips that slowly curl into a smirk and a chuckle that comes out dark and dangerous. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”

Battered boots that come to rest just shy of polished loafers.

“You know…your folly is, dare i say, commendable. Reality is not just something you can rewrite, and yet, you managed an impeccable job of tricking yourself into thinking what you believe to be the truth is the truth.”

One foreboding frame that looms like a predator and the one that cowers like a cornered prey.

“Alas, I almost feel bad for shattering your little illusion. But then again, I’ve done a great many questionable things in my life having lived as long as I have. What significance would it make to add another?”

“What I saw in my dream. They really happened.” It is a question albeit not being voiced like one. The Scythian does not find the need to answer. Why bother when the answer already lies in your hand?

At her silence, a look of horror dawns on your features. “You’re a murderer. You and your friends. I’ve seen them. I- I’m not- I can’t.”

“Oh darling, a rose without thorns is but a weed, easy to be plucked, to be trampled on. You’re one of us now. You will come with me whether you like it or not, and you will do so this instant.”

Every single step you hesitantly take back is met with an immediate footfall of boots as they fall right onto the place that your loafers have just vacated. It goes like this for a while, you actively ruining the close proximity, and Andromache rectifying it, until there is nowhere for you to flee, and your hips collide with the counter edge.

“Why me?” She parries your plea with a nonchalant shrug, face impassive. “Beats me.”

“Please, I-” Tears glisten in your eyes, murmuring beseechingly. “Let me go. I can’t kill. I know nothing about fighting.”

While her hands grip the counter on either side of your waist to cage you in strong arms, her lips lower to the shell of your ear, breath warm as she speaks. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You can kill. In fact, anyone can. You just have to listen to me.”

“No! Let me go! I don’t want-” Yells dissolve into a yelp by way of digits seizing your jaw.

“I’ve gone out of my way to exercise great forbearance, but it is running terribly thin. It would do you well not to try it any further.” She husks threateningly, feeling the softness of your cheeks giving under the roughness of her battle-hardened fingers. Salty droplets drench her digits as tears start spilling in rivulets down your cheeks.

“Go on, bite me with those baby teeth. Scratch me with your little paws.” She taunts. “Why, would you look at that! All bark and no bite. How pathetic.”

It is as she says this that your teeth sink into the palm that is pressed tightly against your mouth. The unexpected retaliation has her stance faltering, and although you manage to break free from her bodily confines, the Scythian, being far more nimble and dexterous, hardly has to break sweat in recapturing you.

“You're a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? Two can play that game, although don’t say I didn’t warn you. Breaking men, after all, is considered one of my fortes.”

Wrists locked behind your back in her iron grip, and body bent over the marble counter, Andromache revels in the quavering of your body beneath her own as one wicked hand, like a sneaky serpent, slowly slithers up your thigh.

“Are you-” A whimper flies past your lips when your arms are pulled taunt, shoulders craning uncomfortably. And then, she yanks, hard and unforgiving, until you are forced onto your feet, back colliding with her front. “Are you going to kill me?”

Andromache cannot help but laugh at your question, a rich throaty sound that brings about the erection of soft little hair on the nape of your neck.

Your wrists are released at the cost of your cheeks bearing the brunt of her ire as rough fingers dig into your flesh. They flee from their cage between the two of your bodies to take sanctuary on her forearm, soft fingers grasping the sleeve of her jacket. “Where’s the fun in killing you when I can just have my way with you, hm?” Her hold around one of your thighs remains unrelenting while the hand on your jaw coerces you into craning your neck. Your head rests on her chest with a grunt, and you drown, held spellbound by the intense green of her eyes. “I’d rather enjoy the view of you crumbling beneath me than watch you bleed out only to come alive again.”

Although it douses you in shame, you have to admit that you are not entirely immune to the woman. How can you when she oozes charisma, frighteningly beautiful even as she looms over you with all the grandeur of a great menacing panther.

And then, too many things happen all at once; fingers that crawl into a forest of hair to grab a fistful, with a yank to the side, a throat that is bared for the predator above to conveniently sink her teeth into, the frenzied little flutter of a pulse beneath the flat of a warm tongue, chocked sobs that dissolve into a strangled gasp as a cold hand journeys into the waistband of an underwear.

Previously, your hands have found home on her thighs, fingers grappling fabric, but upon feeling wandering digits inside your underwear, one of them flies towards the offending hand, locking around a wrist.

“N-no. You can’t.”

“You would do well to remember that I am in control here.”

The Scythian’s growl is not only heard, but also felt on your skin as teeth nibble, mouth suck, and lips soothe the stings that afterwards will linger on your body in the form of dark blues and bright reds.

Horror and humiliation dance a wild tango whereas fingers waltz delicately along your folds, a condescending tsk echoing off your nape when they come away wet. Betrayed and backstabbed by your own body, mortification colours your face as not one but two of her sizeable digits sink into your heat with little to no effort. Although sudden, it does not hurt, though it stings, leaves you breathless still. Dewdrops bloom on your lashes and they drop down your cheeks when fingers in your core bury knuckles deep, abuse your tightness. You feel them in the very depths of your body, filling you so deliciously that when they wiggle so much as a little, it is more than enough to sucker-punch a breath out of your lungs.

Between her hot mouth kissing your neck all rosy and sore, her fingers cleverly caressing your insides, and her hand toying with your breasts beneath your dress, it is no surprise that your undoing greets you with a tidal wave of pleasure.

It is, however, a surprise to find yourself being shoved back-first onto the table, legs being pulled wide by fingers twining round your thighs. You are still suffering through a series of aftershocks from your first orgasm when her mouth attaches itself to your quavering folds, that wicked tongue immediately slithering into your hole. It does a cruel little nudge and your fingers wind up entwined in her hair. Instead of a reproach, it is a hum of satisfaction that you earn as the Scythian grabs a handful of your buttocks and devour you like a starved man.

By the seventh one, you are well beyond exhausted, brain foggy courtesy of being fucked into oblivion, and body agonisingly sore, littered with deep hues and teeth marks. Somewhere between third and fourth, if you recall correctly, she has stripped you bare, bar your thigh-highs, and completely rid herself off clothes, magnificent muscles coming into display. You have ogled them with barely restrained awe until your attention is swayed elsewhere by her mouth leaving traces of herself all across the expanse of your body.

Now, once again, you marvel at them, entranced by the impressiveness of her muscles that ripple with every roll of her powerful hips.

You barely recognise the face that is staring right back at you, reflected in the surface of sea green eyes, or the sounds that are oozing out of your lips. Sweat clings to the forehead of the woman towering over you as it does to yours. One of your legs is slung over her shoulder, and the other lies limp and useless between her thighs, as she rubs herself into your core with wild abandon.

“I- I can’t. Too much. It’s too muc- ah!”

“Yes, you can.”

She has taken the hand that goes to rest on one of her hipbones only to weave her fingers with yours. Now, they hover in the air, tightly intertwined, suddenly made much tighter by the white knuckled grip of your hand.

“Slow- nghh please! Be gentle.”

“You do as I say. Not the other way round. Is that understood?”

The desperate nods of your head is met with a bite to the succulent inside of your thigh just above the brim of your sock.

“Answer me.”

“Yes!”

“My word shall be your command, and you will dance to my every desire, won’t you darling?”

“Yes! Yes, I will.”

“You are mine after all, aren’t you? Mine to do with what I please. Mine to use how I see fit. Don’t you agree?”

“I’m yours- ngh- all yours.”

“Good girl.” She moans, movements escalating from lazy strokes to untamed gyrations.

“Andy.” She rasps breathlessly. “I want to hear my name dripping down those pretty little lips when you fall apart.”

And hear she does. Andy. Andy. Andy. Andy. Her name is all you can cry out as your juices mingle with one another’s, the combined essence soiling your thigh-highs as well as the couch beneath you.

Back curving, toes curling, you soar high, high into heaven, swimming amongst clouds, drowning in euphoria. And then, you plummet, down into the pit of hell, down into another one of those little deathless deaths. An intense blinding white replaced by an absolute dark.

When you awake, it is to the heart-melting sensation of lips softly caressing your forehead. You find yourself on the same couch that you have passed out, cocooned in toned arms, face tucked snugly into a warm, musky throat. Reflexively, you begin nosing the soft underside of her jaw before you are startled by fingers wandering down your very naked thigh.

“Look at me.” Obediently, you oblige, reluctantly leaving the pleasant warmth of her neck to do what she desires.

“What have I told you?” All too delicately, or as delicately as the callouses on her hand will allow, the pad of a thumb grazes the apple of your cheek.

Fighting against the urge to slip your eyes shut, you sigh dreamily instead. “That as long as I remain a good obedient girl, no harm will befall me.”

“That’s right. And are you?”

A nod as an answer prompts a pat of a forefinger on your cheek, and then, another. You know what she wants, so you give her just that.

“I’m a good girl.”

Not only do you see the smirk on her face, but you also feel it on your skin as she leans down to drag her lips across yours. “You forgot to mention whose, darling.”

“I’m a good girl, Andy. Your good girl.”

“And will my good girl obey my every command like she had promised?”

“Mmhm.”

A breath catches in your throat as her lips journey down down down, admiring the traces of none other than herself until that ravenous mouth adjourn to your hip, sucking the tender spot on your hipbone to make it all the more vibrant.

Although it has not been the main purpose of her doing what she has done, it is without doubt that Andromache gets a sick sort of pleasure out of seeing you covered in her marks. Every inch of your body and soul, all irrevocably hers.

You have said it so yourself, willingly given yourself up to her. That being said, it is purely her own greed that has her craving more and more and more of you. The scent of you that is sinfully sweet, heady and uniquely yours, makes her ache. The sight of you, like the dewy petals of an exquisite flower, pretty and pulsating, makes her mouth water.

It is with this insatiable hunger swelling inside of her that the Scythian sinks to her knees between your luxuriously smooth thighs.

“One more, darling. Give me one more before we leave.”

And you do, oh how you do even as one bleeds into two and two into three, because a good girl does what she is taught, does she not? And you are a good girl, Andy’s sweet little good girl to do with what she will.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

#andromache the scythian x reader #andromache of scythia x reader #andromache x reader #andromache x you #andy the old guard #andy andromache of scythia #andromache the scythian #andromache of scythia #character x reader #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #the old guard #smut #gif #movie gifs

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gretavanbear · 8 months

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The Professor

Josh Kiszka x reader x Jake Kiszka

[hi...... plz let me know what u think

also thank you SO much for 800 followers…. i’m BLUSHING!!!!!!]

warnings : cheating(? they're not exclusive), public nsfw stuffs....

Screening #? : Meeting

Friday came faster than you could ever expect. You were already dressed and waiting for Josh to pick you up. He told you to dress a bit fancier than your usual attire- due to the restaurants dress code. You had picked out a black satin dress with small black heels. You skipped out on the decision to put on underwear, knowing your night is going to end up one way or the other. You decided to let your hair down and you had pinned your bangs back with a little vintage sword clip. You felt pretty, and hoped Josh would think so too. He arrived to the entrance of the university shortly after you’d stepped out, in his black jeep, he’d open the door for you from the inside.

“Aren’t you a lovely sight to see.” He sighed, kissing your hand after you’ve buckled in your seatbelt. You thanked him nervously as you examined him. He had recently gotten a haircut- which complimented him extremely well. The sides of his head were shaved, almost giving him a mullet. He wore dark brown glasses instead of his usual black ones, which made his eyes pop. He wore a white button down which felt like an expensive material; and some black pants. He looked really good.

“Are you nervous, doll?” He spoke, his eyes focused on the road whilst his hand stayed on your thigh.

“Maybe a little.” Lie. “I hope he likes me.” You added.

“I’m sure he will, lovey.” he answered, shooting you a soft smile before focusing back on the road once again.

JAKE

You had dressed yourself in a black satin button down, only butting up two buttons at the bottom of it. Making sure your necklaces appeared well through the sliver of open skin from the shirt. Your trousers were rolled up so your ankle was exposed; leaving your Louis Vuitton boots exposed for everyone to see. Your mind flashed back to the other day, how she treated your boot from her desperateness. You liked that; the feeling of being wanted, craved. You took one more look in the mirror before leaving to go meet your twin, examining your long hair and the way it draped over your shoulders so nicely. The way your necklaces rested at the perfect length around your neck. You hoped she’d look at you like she did… so hopeful and needy.

When you stepped into the restaurant; you were the first to arrive. The hostess led you to your booth and brought you a glass of water, though you ordered a drink right away. Whiskey will calm your nerves and heat you up a little.

Stirring the liquids in the fancy glass, you stared at the motions of the alcohol; and how it moved so freely. You wish you could too. Be free like a bird; let anything you want come true because you want it so much. You thought about the guitar riff you practiced this morning, and the lyrics you wrote for it right after. You thought about how, even Josh, did not know how badly you wanted this dream. How it felt to picture yourself on that big stage playing for all your adoring fans- if you’d even have any. Yet you already had one, and she was walking in with him.

“Hey brother.” Josh smiled at you and you got out of the booth to hug him, a greeting habit you had acquired yourself to do almost every time you saw him.

“Hey Josh.” You ignored her, not wanting to make it obvious you were excited to see her. As you pulled away, he introduced her by her first name and she responded with

“Pleasure to meet you, officially.” Your heart skipped a beat, and you raised an eyebrow. She wants to play.. You shook her hand before offering her to sit in the booth, between your brother and yourself. She sat to your left and Josh was next to her.

“Officially?” Josh questioned as he made himself comfortable in the booth, sitting down next to her. “Oh! Right, Jake how did it go?” He asked you with a smile.

“It went well. Thank you. Your students seem very eager to learn which I appreciate.” You said, taking a sip from your drink. You felt her eyes on you as your lips rested against the glass.

“They really are, huh?” He nudged her with his elbow gently, which made her smile nervously.

She looked incredibly good, her satin dress almost perfectly matched your shirt. She had this pin in her hair; a sword. That caught your attention immediately. She caught you looking and felt it with her fingers. “I love anything that has to do with pirates” She spoke. You swore you felt your heart leap out of your chest.

“So do I. I love this.” You smiled softly as your fingers traced the little design on her pin. But Josh’s stare made you drop your hand immediately after. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at it though.

“How’s your semester going, Jake?” He redirected the conversation; noticing your ‘sudden’ interest.

“It’s great. My students are really creative. Anytime they submit a new assignment I always feel impressed by their talents. Though, I had to have a student come to see me after hours because she was having creativity block.” You said, your foot finding her leg and rubbing against it softly. Your eyes stayed on Josh yet you were watching her through the corner of your vision, and you noticed the little smile on her lips as she felt your touch.

The server came to take your orders and then left, leaving the three of you back to your conversation. You rested your back against the booth and let your hands fall to your sides, listening to Josh talk about his next film idea. You nodded here and there, letting him know you’re listening but the truth was, you weren’t. You were more focused on the feeling of her satin dress over your hand, your fingers tracing her inner thigh.

“What’s she like?” You asked as Josh read over an essay.

“She’s..” He paused, a small smile on his lips. “She’s really special. She thinks like I do. Whenever I talk in class she just looks at me with so much hope and excitement over the material I’m about to teach. And I picked easy movies this semester but I feel like she wants to be challenged, she wants to learn everything. Not only about the course but about me. She even asked about my tattoo.” Josh beamed, looking at you with a bigger smile.

Your heart sank a little, he left you feeling like you’ll never experience anything like he has.

“I’m glad. You deserve to be happy, Josh.” You replied with a small smile, trying not to sound bothered; before returning to the essay you were reading.

Your mind drifted back to that day in the hallway, her innocent face, the way she seemed to want to do anything to please him. You wondered if you were ever going to experience that.

Josh was still talking about his film, so entranced by his own words that he did not realize your hand was right between her thighs. Luckily, the table was so pressed up against you all that it wasn’t very noticeable.

You heard her suck in a breath as your middle finger grazed against her bare clit- your mouth hanging low for a split second. No underwear? Your breath shuddered as you nodded and gave Josh a small smile, your chest feeling all tight. The rush of adrenaline went straight to your cock- which was struggling inside your pants, the tightness almost uncomfortable. You slipped your finger inside her, she was so fucking tight it made your mouth dry. The urge to tell Josh to fuck off so you could take her on the table was growing incredibly strong.

“So, what do you think?” Josh smiled, resting his elbows on the table.

“I think you have a really.. tight idea here. Very creative and I can’t wait to see you direct it.” You smiled, hoping she was listening too.

“What about you, doll? Would you be interested in helping me with my film?” He spoke, and you pushed your finger deeper, creating a slow pace.

“Uhm- Yeah. I would love that.” She spoke and you smiled. Josh sighed and nodded, his eyes hopeful.

“I think our food is coming soon so I’m just gonna go freshen up, I’ll be right back. You okay, doll?” He turned to her and caressed her arm, which was also resting on the table. She nodded quickly and gave him a tight smile. As Josh walked away, you laid your eyes on her.

Her cheeks were so red, and her breathing was heavy, her hands found your arm and she wrapped her fingers around your wrist, pulling it closer to her center.

“So needy” You sighed, Fuck, you were loving this. This…. Feeling of need. Her legs were shaking a little on the booth’s seat, and she kept her head down, quietly muttering little ‘please’ and ‘fuck’s as she grinded her hips against your hand, needing you more and more as you went faster- bringing her there. With your free hand, you took another sip of your drink, well you completely finished it and set your glass on the table, before slipping in another finger and fucking her faster.

“Please. Please” She breathed out, and this time you let her have it. She clenched around your middle and ring finger, her juices covering your fingers as you breathed out a gentle “good girl.”

Before Josh came back, you took your coated fingers and placed them on your flat tongue- sucking them dry whilst keeping eye contact with her. Her mouth hung open as she pulled her dress down to cover her thighs. You smirked as her as you saw him coming back from the corner of your eye, shifting your attention to him as he sat back down. She placed her hand on your thigh momentarily before pulling it away once the waiter arrived with everyone’s food.

By the end of your dinner, you accompanied both of them to Josh’s car, telling him you’ll see him soon and you wished her a good evening, her eyes telling you something else. You walked back to your car and shut the door, letting out a shaky breath as your eyes fell down to your cock- which was still so fucking hard. Why did she have that effect on you? What was it about her that made you want her so bad?

As you went to trace the outline of your cock with your hand, just to relieve a little pressure, you felt something poke you in your pocket.

The little sword pin.

{@joshsbadussy @alyson814 @ageoffleeet @ashabeannn @schleeble @kennygvf @brokenbe11s @gretavansteph @l0vep0ti0n @welllauragvf @misshunnybee @succeedingsigns @myfavfics01 @whorefourjakekiszka @not-a-hypochondriac @myleftsock @leedleleedlelee003 @beth-gvf @jordie-gvf @joshkiszkas @oksydneyy @weightofstar @flo-gvf @myownparadise96 @indigokiszka @spark-my-nature @stardustofman @malany-gvf @carbonwrittingthroughtime @groupiegirlie08 @fwzco @nicoleghost18 @andromeda-raine-gvf @sarrrahhh @ren-ni @otherworldlyautumn @Timeless—classics @zoe-tally06 @hippievanfleet @hellowgoodbye @aminaalilyy @gvfcinema @joshpaperscissors @dammittjanet @enchante-em @austinbrry @meetingthestarcatcher @Samkiszkaspinkietoe @spinthehemmo @stonecoldmo @fitalich @justcarsonngvf @tearsofjakey @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lexii-nv-c @bailey747 @streamofgvf @cherryzo @brokenbells11 @gvfpal @gvfmarge @ejoygv @Suzi107 @Jakeygvf21 @Timeless—classics @dharma-divine33 @Myleftsock @Lexii-nv-c @iffypanic @hellowgoodbye @Risingwiththeheatabove @fakeplastiqtree @beckahvanfleet @lek-gvf }

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cleolinda · 3 months

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Weekend links

My posts

As January drags to a close, I have a shit ton of dental work coming my way. Thrilling. (I too would like to have my toenails clipped while I am there.)

Also, the Diagonal Trees may be coming down soon.

My sister added me to her Apple Arcade plan and asked me to play Hello Kitty Island Adventure with her and my nephew. I have resolved the snorkel issue but now I am despairing over a quest-dependent puzzle. “Just float with some complex touch motions over to a cave ledge on the entire other side of the screen. Then do it again.” Get absolutely fucked.

I slap “Dear diary” on posts here that I feel are just kind of personal nattering, but I also do an actual sort of newsletter “Dear Diary” series over on Patreon, often 1000+ words. As you all know, I have no trouble running my mouth freestyle, so these are easy to write when I have nothing formally finished. This weekend on the Future Vision tier, we have “Dear diary: Liminal edition.”

Reblogs of interest

Listen, I am reluctant to reblog things about Gaza because so many posts turn out to have an undercurrent of antisemitism that’s either obvious, or that I don’t realize until later. But this BBC article struck me as a factual analysis of the discrepancy between the stated goals of the IDF and the enormity of the damage. It doesn’t add up at all, conclusively, and I think that’s worth notice.

With that said, we’re going to build up slowly to lighter subjects:

The Epic of Gilgamesh illustrated by Wael Tarabieh

Breakfast around the world

“There are so many ways to make moodboards, bookcovers, and icons without plagiarizing”

Gritty calligraphy

Hot Vintage Movie Stars (Male) polls, round four. People are shocked that the polls have turned out this way. I’m not. Like. James Dean is losing right now. I’m gonna guess Toshiro Mifune for the overall winner, with Vincent Price as an outside chance, because this is Tumblr. Which, I am sincerely thrilled that people here have sincere opinions about movie stars active before 1970, whether they’re “wrong” or not. I could have written a top 10 list of hot vintage actors based on what I thought people (my age or older) (in the U.S.) would expect to see; I could have written it in my sleep. This is more interesting.

McMansion Heaven: Once again, I apologize for Alabama. But whatever you think this house is going to look like from the back, you are not ready for the scrolldown.

Video

Thrillingly, there is a new Hugo Awards controversy. Resignations ensued. And still, no one will explain why certain nominees were disqualified.

Everything is big and small

Sweet dreams are made of speed

A good pup is hungry

The sacred texts

“More like Pusheen the limits of lab safety”

Personal tags of the week

Definitely animal sounds and fiber art

#weekend links #odds and ends #linkspam

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mahikamihan · 1 month

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iconic vintage among us era moment: dream simps for sykkuno

#dreamwastaken #vodclip #vintage dream clips #amogus #sykkuno #valkyrae #corpse husband

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lookinghalfacorpse · 11 months

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Hi! Doomsday trio prompt- The Most Hated Breakfast Food. Not the best. The worst.

this is SUCH a good prompt and i didn't do it correctly :') here's what my brain did instead. at least it was breakfast themed?

part of the doomsday preparation drabbles

--------------------

Breakfasts Prepared in The Days Before Battle (aka how do you feed a young man, an immortal birdman, and a piglin in one meal?)

Day 1: Oatmeal and toast. A simple dish, but sincerely one of the most beautiful and put-together meals Dream has ever seen. He didn't expect them to feed him at all, much less prepare a bowl of well-arranged, colorful fruits in a vintage bowl. He stood in the kitchen, frozen. Eating in front of Techno and Phil might mean taking his mask off in front of them, and he was tempted to grab the food and eat in another room, like an anxious dog. He settled instead on tilting the mask up a bit. They saw his mouth, and they didn't make any indication that they even noticed. Techno had three bowls, Phil had one and a half, and Dream had one (he was too embarrassed to ask for more).

Day 2: Avocado toast with pico and eggs. Techno shyly admitted that they were trying to get through this loaf of bread before it went bad. Then, he went on some nonsensical ramble about how it was Dream's sacred mission to help them. "Forget the battle," he said, "we gotta get rid of this bread." Techno had four slices, Phil had two, and Dream had two.

Day 3: Omelettes and yogurt. There was something a bit comical about seeing Techno use silverware. His hands were too big for them, his shoulders hunched forward, and he used them so politely that you wouldn't expect him to be the most feared warrior this civilization has known. After breakfast, he absolutely dominated in a sparring session against Dream. Techno had two omelettes, Phil had half (but two bowls of yogurt. He was "in the mood for it."), and Dream had one.

Day 4: Breakfast sandwiches. Sausage, egg, and cheese, all in a biscuit-like bun. Dream nearly took his mask completely off at the table, and fumbled with the clip as he desperately tried to put it back on without showing more skin than he already has. Techno had his back turned as he was serving himself, thankfully, but Phil sat beside him. The old man didn't even look up from his plate, unbothered by Dream's dilemma. Techno had two sandwiches, Phil had one, Dream had one, and the dog whining softly under the table got two pieces of sausage from Dream's palm.

Day 5: Sausage soup. It was a piglin thing, apparently. Techno mentioned it and then grew quiet, enjoying the meal but never losing a distant, foggy look in his eyes. Dream watched, unable to think of a follow-up question. Between the three of them, he was not the only one with secrets. Techno had five bowls (the most Dream's ever seen him eat), Phil had one, and Dream had one.

Day 6: Pancakes and scrambled eggs. A classic breakfast. Phil seemed nervous about preparing the pancakes a way Dream would like, so he made them plain and provided a variety of toppings. Dream opted for a variety of fruit and the chocolate spread, but he said (with confidence) that he would've eaten whatever was prepared for him. Techno had four pancakes, Phil had two, and Dream had two.

Day 7: Bagels. Somewhere between preparations and trainings, Philza found time to pick up bagels. Dream found it odd to prioritize food with such a decisive battle on the horizon. He sat, he tilted his mask, he ate, and he talked to Techno about horses. Techno had two bagels, Phil had one, and Dream had one.

Day 8: Biscuits with Eggs. Or, as Techno called it, "Biscuit with guts." A poached egg was poured into a hole in the biscuit, making an interesting mix of textures and flavors. Dream wasn't the biggest fan of poached eggs, but true to his word, he ate whatever was served to him. Techno had four biscuits, Phil had two, and Dream had two.

Day 9: Creamy potato soup and sausages. Carbs and proteins for fuel. The battle loomed, and Dream was feeling anxious. He wasn't sure why; he wasn't afraid, per se, he was simply buzzing with energy that had no where to go (He wanted this to go perfectly). He asked Techno to spar with him again. He asked Phil for a refill of potato soup. "Remind me to get you the recipe, mate," Philza said, "If you can make mashed potatoes, you can make this. Good for travel, too." Dream replied stupidly with some comment about how much he liked potatoes. Techno had three bowls, Phil had one, and Dream lost count of how many times he made it while he traveled. Much later, he'd make it again within the prison walls, and he'd run to a nearby chest to vomit.

#lol sorry anon #i guess the 'worst' one would be the biscuits on day 8 #tfw you say you'd eat whatever phil makes and then two days later he makes POACHED EGGS #no offense to british ppl but i don't fuck with ur eggs #dreblr #doomsdaytrio #doomsday trio #doomsday prep #drabbles

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hotvintagepoll · 21 days

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Propaganda

Madhabi Mukherjee (Charulata, The Big City, The Coward)—Madhabi Mukherjee is legendary for her nuanced and sensitive performances in some of the classics of Bengali cinema particularly her roles in Satyajit Ray's films

Angela Lansbury (The Harvey Girls, The Court Jester, The Manchurian Candidate)—The babe, the myth, the legend. In her own words her early hollywood roles were "a series of venal bitches" and they were all glorious. Half of them wanted to kill you and you probably would have thanked them. She even goes toe to toe with Judy Garland in The Harvey Girls! That said, she was chronically underused and misused during this era - she was just 36 when she was cast as Elvis Presley's mother in Blue Hawaii and a few years later commented that she'd played so many 'old hags' that most people thought she was in her 60s. She thought she was "all talent, no looks" but she was the full package! Post-1970 I hope we all know what an incredibly talented and compassionate badass she was, but I feel like not enough people know her early roles as a hot (often villainous) young thing.

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.]

Madhabi Mukherjee:

She played in some of the most critically acclaimed films in bengali cinema and she is an incredibly talented actress. Everybody should watch 'The Big City' she's so good in it!

Linked clip

Gifset 1

Gifset 2

Angela Lansbury:

"Angela Lansbury might not be where your mind goes first when you think of hot leading women, because she had a later career revival. But she began acting in the early 1940s after leaving London due to the Blitz. In the first couple decades of her film career she has an openness about her. She said she never really fit in with the Hollywood crowd and to me she gives off a friendly, untarnished vibe."

"Most of us know Angela Lansbury as old lady sleuth Jessica Fletcher, but it's important to know that she was smoking hot in her younger days as well as a damned fine actress. Although she didn't get lead roles until her early 40s, at 17 she was a supporting actress in films such as Gaslight (1944), National Velvet (1944), and The Picture of Dorian Grey, for which she won the Golden Globe for best supporting actress and was nominated for the Oscar. Even in her memorable performance as the manipulative mother in The Manchurian Candidate, she is listed as a supporting actress as she does not play the love interest. She was successful both on stage and screen, and won the Tony for her lead role in the musical Mame on Broadway in 1966. TL;DR While Angela Lansbury mostly played supporting roles in films before 1970, she had what it takes to be a leading actress, which we know from her success on stage and tv from the mid 60s onward"

"She looked like a princess but bit like a viper"

"Is there anything this woman couldn't do? Act in comedy and drama, sing, dance, be a wonderful human being - quite simply a true and wonderful lady."

"she is the fairytale princess of my dreams in court jester"

"god she had such an incredible career all throughout her life really but as a young lady she was just as incredible as she was in her later years. enchanting voice, amazing personality, and absolutely GORGEOUS. she lamented not having the looks to play leads in romance but that idea is so batshit because look at her??? she's one of the most terrific women of all time. also she's my grandmother's favorite actress and i truly get it"

#angela lansbury #madhabi mukherjee #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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marsalaqueen · 1 year

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Ok, I have a sad theory about Alex Turner's relationships with his women and his music, that is, I hope, not 100% true. And I do want to share it with you!

The concept is that Alex takes only inspiration from his girlfriends for the new albums, write lyrics about them, but not really love them. And the only person whom he is in love with is Miles Kane.

Before we start I'd like to say that I don't wanna blame or offend anyone. I personally do not know any of the people described below and I can be wrong about them. I respect everything they do, and in fact I sympathize with absolutely every character. All the thoughts described below came to my mind only during a small investigation of some Alex's texts, which hooked me with their references even though sometimes they are not obvious.

Sooo, let's begin with Johanna Bennett. They were dating in 2005-2007, Alex was 19, for sure just a kid. The development of Arctic Monkeys has just begun, first album, first fame and fans confession. In fact, there is little information about them on the Internet, and the only thing I found was what he recorded with her "Fluorescent Adolescent". I can't say anything about specifically her influence on the first albums, because the press did not really catch their relationship. Then let's slowly move on to the favorite of most fans Alexa Chung.

Alexa was a real match. Their names, appearance and magnetic charisma spoke for themselves. They were dating from 2007 to 2011, Humbug and Suck It and See were released in this period (Favorite Worst Nightmare was recorded before her). And if in Humbug I can’t clearly trace any references (except perhaps Crying Lightning), then SIAS is one continuous declaration of love to Alexa. It has a lot more melancholic, romantic, incredibly touching songs - «She’s Thunderstorms», «Reckless Serenade», «Piledriver Waltz», «Love Is a Laserquest», «Suck It and See» and others. There is no doubt that the main source of inspiration was Alexa. And when Alex performed live She’s Thunderstorms after their split, the bitter pain was felt throughout the song. I mean, read some lyrics from SIAS:

Your love is like a studded leather headlock

Your kiss it could put creases in the rain

You're rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock

And those other girls are just postmix lemonade;

The type of kisses where teeth collide

When she laughs, the heavens hum a stun gun lullaby

Those twinkling vixens with the shining spiral eyes

Their hypnosis goes unnoticed when she's walking by

And I do believe that Chung was his last true love. Some sort of a special chemistry could be seen between them, a strong real feeling. Alexa was loving, easy and sincere, just like SIAS.

But after only a month in 2011 he started dating Arielle Vandenberg, a Hollywood actress. With her they had their best (commercially and judging by the love of the audience) album AM. IT was cheeky, luxurious, sexy - posh as an American dream, whose incarnation can be called Arielle. She was in R U Mine? and One For The Road clips (maybe even in some more), she is definitely his Arabella starting at least from the leopard coat that she often wore. In a word, she fit well into the concept of AM. They also looked cute with him, drinking together in bars and wearing damn cool Halloween costumes. And, more importantly, she got along with the rest of the members, as did Alexa, by the way!

Several months passes and Alex is in a relationships again - this time with a model Taylor Bagley, the most chaotic and crazy one (in a good way). After stunning success of AM Monkeys are taking a hiatus, and Alex starts having fun with Miles. We come to the intriguing part. During their relationship with Taylor, they are recording a new album with TLSP, which, in addition to the sound of vintage soul with strings, is also very romantic and poignant. What they did with Miles on stage is another story, but we'll get to that later. So, he and Taylor got paired tattoos with their names, he literally wrote at least "Sweet Dreams, TN" about her (Although being born in Oklahoma, she states in interviews that she considers herself a Nashville, Tennessee, native and she has a piercing in her nose), by the way, she also made a tattoo with the name of this song. Together with Miles they hang out at her house with a pool and dog; she is in "Bad Habits" clip, and in general they are real safely threesome. They are crazy, drunk and happily doing some odd things, like the 2nd TLSP album.

And finally we are coming to the most provocative part. Louise Verneuil. I will not say whether he cheated on Bagley with her or not, but the time between the breakup and the new relationship was negligible. Rumors say that Louise was almost in his dressing room backstage while he was still in a relationship with Taylor. So, so far, their relationship with the French singer is the longest he's ever had (2018-till now). Visually, I am insanely impressed with how they look together, they complement each other incredibly, if only because Louise is finally lower than him ahahaha. She is petite and flirtatious, infused with the spirit of the 70s and Jane Birkin. Look at her clips (Love Corail, Desert and etc.), and then at the Car....

Yes, he produced some videos for her, so maybe they are similar. But his style of Alain Delon, the image of the horny teacher of geography from the 70s, scarves at concerts and so on - all this gives off the atmosphere of Louise. For example, a There'd Better Be a Mirrorball clip, in which, by the way, there is Louise as well.

The only thing that confuses everyone is her bad relationship with fans (I saw a screenshot of the correspondence somewhere, where she rudely asked the girl to remove the photo with Alex from her stories), scandals with likes on posts about rape, photos of Alex once in a while a year, and the absence of Alex's sincere smile next to her, let's be honest. And one important notice - he stopped celebrating Halloween with Louise, which he apparently loved very much, as he always carefully approached the choice of costume (my favorite is Florence and the Machine with Arielle, it's fantastic)

Let's sum up a little. 1) Since 2005 Alex cannot be without a relationship for more than 4-5 months, which is not normal obviously. He seems to be afraid of being alone, thinking that he will not find inspiration for a new album, or, in principle, he has a fear of loneliness. 2) Vibes of all his albums are a reflection of his girls. Next to them he changes also. 3) Remember the evolution of his images, in addition to age and interests, the style of girls also influences him. With Alexa, it’s simple T-shirts and old jeans, while she is in plain dresses and shorts with knee socks; with Arielle he is in tight pants and leather jackets, and she is in extravagant coats and heels; with Taylor he is in colorful suits and flared pants, and she is in very short tops with pink hair; with Louise he is in corduroy jackets and white shirts, whilst she in vintage jeans and flowing blouses - boom, all matches! 4) Obviously he has a type of girls with a square face, blond hair and bangs. The only one who deviated much from this type was Taylor. 5) I have not seen him hugging, laughing and kissing someone the way Miles Kane does, next to whom he literally glows, not afraid to show himself, not afraid to be real, foolish, but really himself.

Perhaps happiness loves silence and Alex, as a not very public person, keeps all the feelings between him and his woman, but he is too open next to Miles, not afraid to show his feelings in public, which raises some doubts.

I would like to write a separate final post about Al and Miles, if it is necessary at all. Please let me know if any of this resonated with you, and if I can flesh out any of these points to you in more detail, I will do so with pleasure!

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #miles kane #alexa chung #louise verneuil #arielle vandenberg #taylor bagley #milex #tlsp2 #theory #relationship

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thespectralvision · 1 year

Photo

March Art Challenge: Flying Date

Somewhere in the Multiverse...

Ok I took things further than intended. Life has beena big downer lately, so as a treat I picked up Clip Studio Paint 2.0 and bought the Kraftone brush pack from True Grit Texture Supply (HERE) to play with. Something that has been in the back of my mind is that I really want to try making more vintage comic inspired art, because that’s really where my love of comics lies, so when I got an ad for their comic artist bundle I was immediatly interested. After playing with them for a few days I am in LOVE with these brushes and this process which mimics the CMYK printing used until digital took over in the 90s. I’m currently planning a full one-shot comic, likely in this style, and can’t wait to see if I can actually pull off my childhood dream of being a comic artist!

I’ve also provided a colouring page of the line art under the cut if anyone wants to play with it! I’ll be doing a proper halftone Silver Age inspired version of this piece as well just for fun and practice at a later point.

#wandavision #wandavision art #marvel #MCU #Marvel Comics #marvel art #comic art #The Vision #white vision #Scarlet Witch #wanda maximoff #scarvis #wanda x vision #wanda x white vision #digital art #my art

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bbobpul · 7 months

Text

memories in the old reels

NOTE. first jun au and fourth email i can't send! reblog and like and follow @medyowriter 🫶🏼

PAIRING. junhui x you

GENRE. hurt/comfort

WARNINGS. none

list of emails i can't send

masterlist

from. [email protected]

to. [email protected]

subject. emails i can't send 4/13

hello, jun from my hometown!

in the wake of the relentless chaos that engulfed my existence, an ache for quiet led me back to the very place where my roots lay, where i once reveled in the innocence of youth. it was a place where the names of friends i once cherished have dissolved into the mist of forgotten time, leaving behind only the haunting resonance of their joyful laughter, forever etched in the recesses of my mind.

returning to my hometown, i couldn't help but confront the stark reality of how much i've changed. i couldn't help but notice these shifts in my own self, like the way i dress, a transformation unveiled when i beheld childhood photographs clinging to the refrigerator, held in place by an oddly poignant magnet bearing the words "she was here." a really weird magnet if you ask me but my mother tends to succumb to nostalgia often.

similarly, the way i speak has also changed, a shift brought to light when my father urged me to rewatch video tapes captured when i was about six years old, a fragment of my current age.

and within those old reels, i saw you, jun, a childhood friend whose full name i can no longer remember. in those videos, you were always affectionately "junie"

it's been almost a decade since i embarked on my journey to a bustling city for college, and during those intervening years, i am consumed by a profound remorse for the negligence that led me to forget you. it took the resurrection of these video clips to rekindle the significance you once held in my youthful heart.

indeed, nostalgia is cruel. here i am, beset by the remorse of my fading personal history, drained of my past.

my father, in his wisdom, shared your current story—a life blessed with a joyous family, two years into a happy marriage with twin children completing the happy home you built.

meanwhile, i find myself writing this email. perhaps this one may be a bit longer than usual. maybe because i am using you to address my regrets for the mistakes i made in the past and to convince myself that it all happened for a reason. change happened for a reason.

when i was younger, i envisioned city life as a gateway to a brighter, faster existence. i reveled in its loud and frenetic pace. yet now, as i look back, it feels as though my hometown just passed me by while my own life moves in slow motion, suspended in the stillness of time.

our shared memories, akin to the scars on my knee earned during our roadside escapades, have gently faded. my father, ever the sage, urged me to regard those wounds as tokens of the delight we found in each other's company.

you, jun, are like the vanishing tan lines on my shoulder that fade when winter comes.

you are the ephemeral reverie in my thoughts, a recollection that blurs the boundaries between reality and dreams.

my most vivid memory of you came from the lens of a vintage camera, as my father chased us through golden-hued afternoons, right after the school bell's chime.

a part of me yearns for a more vivid recollection, but for now, i am good with this.

good in the knowledge that your memory has returned to me, and that i am reminded of the joyful moments we shared.

you, jun, were my embodiment of childhood, the quintessence of my youth. while the fine details may have faded, and perhaps you are no more than a fleeting thought in your own mind, we provided each other with a childhood lived to the fullest.

yours in nostalgia,

your past

TAGLIST. @matchahyuck @minhui896 @hongmingoo @strawberryshortcakes-blog @lleercy @wonwooz1 @mhlsymlysn

i will be tagging everyone who like or comment on these posts

#seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #junhui x reader #junhui x you #junhui angst #bbobpul #Spotify #moon junhui #wen junhui

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