#how pap walks are done

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.” 

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 

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[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (7)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: again, I'm thanking all of yous for fueling the chemical override fire! Your comments/messages are so sweet and hilarious and wild - just as this story demands <3 Happy reading!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The arrangement you and Ewan share is in place, but jealousy rears its ugly head when another costar takes an interest in you. It isn't Aemond's allegiance that renders Ewan green-eyed, so to speak...

London

Whenever Ewan needs you, you answer the call.

Because, in truth, you need him too. This might not be the most savoury of arrangements; it might not be what you pictured in your head when you thought of getting back together.

But this way, you can have him, and he can have you.

It's a win-win situation. Even if you're not his, and he's not yours, as he so nicely put it.

So you're there when his need arises. Which, as it happens, arises often - intense, wanton, and greedy. He takes you for himself, your body left littered with markings that can only be from his teeth, his fingers, his aching manhood.

Beads of sweat would cloud your vision as the side of your face is pressed to the mattress, your legs bent to give him better access, so that he sinks deeper. He would whisper, - you're mine... you're mine... fuckin' mine, darling - when he leans down to pant roughly in your ear, momentarily forgetting about the one condition of this whole thing.

You're not his. But as he finishes inside of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss, you also have it in you to conveniently forget.

Your respective apartments in London set the stage for your trysts. Ewan comes over so often that he's had to use the back entrance, after getting papped once on a foggy Sunday morning, leaving your apartment building in the same clothes that he wore when he entered at midnight.

LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS! - on page 6! Game of Thrones spinoff stars can't get enough of each other!

When Ewan said that the whole thing was going to be a secret, he must have failed to account for the near-impossibility of that notion for a celebrity.

What can be kept secret for those in your line of work?

A romance between two young, highly coveted actors will see the light of day eventually, aided by the blinding flashes of papparazzi cameras.

Predictably, your friends catch on and demand to know how you little lovebirds found your way back together, because of course, they always knew you would.

Sadly, you have to burst Phia's bubble when she calls one evening. "We're not back together."

A pause. She mulls it over. "But the papers..."

"I know."

"He's been seeing you... " She claims, her tone growing unsure.

"He has."

"Then what... oh." You can practically picture the realisation coming across her face. Would it be accompanied by distaste or disappointment? Neither is good anyhow.

"We're seeing each other. But, not really, if you get what I mean."

"No!" she exclaims. You can hear shuffling in the background, like she just slammed the book she was reading shut. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"That's doesn't mat - "

"It's Ewan's, isn't it?" she answers, confirming her own suspicion. "That little devious bastard."

"It's not his fault," you find yourself shaking your head, then you startle as the buzzer to your apartment gets your attention. The routine is in place - it's the receptionist letting you know that Ewan is in the lobby. Speak of the devil...

Hmm. You walk to the intercom to let him upstairs, thinking of him coming to claim his prize. But he's not the devil - he's my twisted angel, whose heart I broke.

Phia isn't finished. "What do you mean, it's not his fault? If this was his idea, then let me just talk to the lad and screw his bloody head on straight."

You stand by the door, waiting for his arrival, because whenever Ewan needs you, you're there.

You need him too.

"Phi, I... I want this," you reply. "I have to go."

"Babe, we're not done here. You're not getting off easy."

"I know, I know," you smile at her genuine concern. "Maybe you're right, maybe this all wrong." But...

You know you don't have to say it outright. It's there to see, clear as day.

You love him.

She sighs loudly, resigning herself to the truth of her friend's predicament. "You'll figure this out, the both of you."

"Hope so, Phi." The doorbell rings. You rush through your goodbyes, dropping the call with a promise to keep her updated on what she deems a ridiculous situation.

You greet him at the door, and he stands there, with his black hoodie obscuring his face like he's Daemon about to do some nefarious act of sorts. And he just might. He chews on his lip, and smirks as he takes you in.

"Darling," he greets as he lets himself in. He shrugs off his hoodie and drops it in its usual corner, before beckoning for you with his arms reaching.

He runs his fingers through your hair, as he kisses your neck and inhales your scent, purring, " - fuckin' missed you, beautiful - " as his skilled fingers find the hem of your old shirt.

"My darling girl," he says, and you so badly want to hate him, because he's not being fair. Why does he get to act like this matters to him, when he made it clear that this is only so both your needs are met? Why does he look at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in hope, with those same blue eyes that blazed when he once said he loved you?

How can you make sure that you don't fall back in love with him, when that love was never truly gone?

"Ewan," you moan as he pushes you against a wall, his rough hands kneading your flesh. You help him pull his shirt over his head, and your fingers drag upward along his skin until it finds the silver chain around his neck. You use it to pull him even closer, not a breadth of space between you.

He kisses you, and it's like an anchor finding home.

Yours or his, it matters little.

It nearly bubbles out of the two of you - those forbidden three words - each time his hips slam right into yours. It's almost there, fighting, waiting to be heard. His 'I really do fucking love you', and your 'I'm sorry about everything, about lying, all I ever wanted was you.'

Nearly. If only things were that simple.

He never stays for long afterward. Small talk is shared - about his new film, the ongoing production for yours, the upcoming engagements you both have for season 3 of House of the Dragon. The bloody weather, even.

The holidays have come and gone, and soon the two of you will again have to fly out to work - you, back to Atlanta; him, to LA for the pre-production of his film with Jenna Ortega.

He took on the film after all, and you should be relieved, but it's hard to feel any sense of ease when you know he will have to be with her in a way that he can't be with you. To the rest of the world, soon enough, they will have to play at being together. Your only claim to him rests in between the sheets, in the countless hollow trysts to be shared.

He doesn't reach for you after the deed is done, after his clothes are back in place and his hair is relieved of that post-sex tousle. As if touching you would cast him aflame.

But you feel his eyes linger on you, all the time, especially when you try to avert your gaze.

What is he thinking, you wonder. Who does he see?

On his way out, he has to deal with an obstacle in order to retrieve his hoodie. An adorable one, at that. Your black Bobtail cat, Sansa, nestles comfortably atop it. Her paws grip the cotton material of the hoodie as Ewan tries to pull it away.

"She likes you," you smile at the sight of Ewan gingerly trying to lift Sansa so she doesn't lash out at him. Even though the likelihood to that is low, with Sansa taking so well to Ewan's constant presence, so much so that you sometimes find her meowing at the door waiting for him to come back. The traitor.

"Good girl," he whispers to her, his hoodie almost released from the weight of her fluffy shape. "That's it."

Then he turns to you, smiling as he shrugs his hoodie back on. "I don't think she wants me to leave."

Like mother, like daughter, comes your thought. But when he straightens, and appraises you with a sideways glance, an amused hum escaping his lips, you realise that you said it out loud.

He smirks openly to himself, his ego blossoming. You roll your eyes at him, mumbling, "Oh, give me a break."

He simply shrugs, walking over to the door.

"I'll call you," he calls over his shoulder as a matter of courtesy, but he sounds uncertain, and the question lingers. Please don't say no, his tone practically begs.

How can you ever?

Arms crossed in an attempt to act nonchalant, leaning against the wall, you smile and say, "Try not to miss me too much, Mitchell."

His eyes linger as they always do. "Impossible task," he responds, casually, unaware that he just upended your whole world with his words.

He solidifies the grip he has on you, before he leaves.

And so the fucked up cycle continues.

Los Angeles

A ginger tabby cat slinks around Ewan's ankles as he sits in the director's office, reminding him of your Sansa and the way she would slink in between your bodies the moment she finds an opening, which is usually after the heated roll in the hay.

He smiles to himself on instinct, remembering how you once shared that you wanted to adopt another cat, preferably a Ragdoll, and name him Benjicat.

"Benjicat?" Ewan had asked.

"Yeah," you smiled, as you stroked a purring Sansa between her ears. "Benjicat Blackwood."

Ewan merely blinked, the connection dawning on him, the brilliance of your idea not lost on his supposedly indifferent mind. He could not hold back his warm and appreciative smile as he gazed at you, and for a moment, he pretended that things were back as they were.

He briefly had the idea that, perhaps, you should adopt the future Benjicat together.

Until the bitter thought crossed his mind - he wasn't the one who quashed that possibility first.

In the office in LA, Jenna sits daintily across from him, still aloof and somewhat of a stranger. She had given him a shy smile when she sat down at the table, exchanged pleasantries and surface-level compliments, the works.

Ewan feels nervous, almost ill at ease, and he normally would be able to single out the reasons why. It could be the notion of meeting an acclaimed director and his future costars. Trying not to stumble on his words, messing up their first impression of him. Maybe he had chainsmoked one cigarette too many before the meeting, worsening the anxiety-inducing effect of his staple black coffee with six sugars.

But this is different. He knows the thing he is dreading is when the matter of the PR business will be brought up.

So he doesn't know what emotion comes over him when the director, Autumn de Wilde, lightly remarks in an attempt to break the tension, "So, Ewan, how's your girlfriend?"

"M-my girlfriend?"

"Yeah," she says jovially, "your costar right? It's all over the socials."

"Oh, I love her," Jenna chimes in. "Is she back in England or is she filming somewhere?"

She's not my girlfriend, is what he should say, but he can't push the words out of his mouth. He's not even sure he wants to. After all, that is why he had the idea for the friends with benefits arrangement in the first place - because he can't cope with the fact that you're not his girfriend anymore.

"Mmm, yeah, she's - uhhh - she's filming in Atlanta," Ewan answers, dodging the main question, but not really.

"Well, say hello to her for me," Autumn says. "She's a keeper, huh? What with her being okay with the PR bullshit you will have to do."

Jenna purses her lips apologetically at him, then remarks, "I don't like that Bruce guy. I know some people who worked with him, and they share the sentiment."

Ewan feels lighter, knowing that they're on the same page. He asks tentatively, "That PR thing... is it set in stone or - ?"

Autumn sighs, "Apparently so, kid. But I heard along the grapevine that great ol' Brucey is dealing with some suit and he might have to pull out of the film."

"Some suit?" Ewan asks.

"A lawsuit," Jenna says.

"Oh." What the fuck. "If he pulls out then what that does mean for us?"

"Halle-fuckin-lujah, that's what," Autumn laughs. "More creative control, more logistics control... more happiness for everyone, really."

"Does that mean the PR relationship will be scrapped?" Ewan blurts out, before sheepishly adding to Jenna, "I mean, no offense - "

"None taken," she shakes her head at him. "I never had a liking for that stuff anyway."

"Well, we'd have to consult with the rest of the execs but they're a lot more likely to be conducive to requests," Autumn says.

Ewan feels a rush of relief, one he immediately wishes he can share with you. If you only you stuck it out with him. If only you didn't leave him hanging at the first sign of trouble.

If only you weren't unsure of how you felt about him.

He calls you afterward, because he wants to, the last remaining shred of his resentment towards you be damned.

"Production nearly finished, darling?" He asks, the pretense of holding back from using the term of endearment long since abandoned.

"Mhmm, I've got one more week here in Atlanta, Mitchell."

You've gone back to calling him Mitchell - not baby, love, or anything remotely romantic.

It bothers him, but he's determined not to let it show.

"I've got about a week and a half here still."

"Then we've got season three prep in London, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "I'll see you back there I suppose."

"Okay," you reply, sounding uncertain of what to say next. "Are you... is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he automatically says. "I just thought... maybe I can come see you."

He listens to your steady breathing at the other end, and it calms him. He waits in silence, until you respond with, "Aren't you busy out there, Ewan?"

He is, and he is aware that it makes him seem desperate. It has only been a few weeks since your last rendezvous back in London, and he is supposed to remain nonchalant. Unaffected. This is not supposed to be some kind of lifeline for him. The thought of you should not be what runs through his mind at every waking moment.

He contradicts all of that, when he admits, "I am, but I want to see you anyway. I can fly out for a day and we could - "

"Ewan - "

"I need you."

You sigh deeply, and he pictures the silhouette of your shoulders rising and falling, the pinch in between your brows, the concerned frown your lips take the shape of.

He misses you. Do you miss him too?

"I know," you say. "But I'll see you soon in London, okay?"

That was not the answer he wanted. There are times when you sound dispassionate and he feels like you couldn't give less of a shit about him, and it kills him.

Even though it shouldn't, and this is what he should have expected, after proposing the arrangement.

But there are also times when you give him a spark of hope to cling to.

"Besides," you muse, "we'll soon have to prepare to give the fans what they want. All the love for Aemond and Alyna surely will not be ignored by the writers. I know I'm rooting for them."

Ewan laughs, "I am too."

Aemond and Alyna. You and him. There are fans, and there are fans, and Ewan is proudly a member of the latter.

"Okay, so, I have to head back inside," you say. "I - uhhh - "

"Yeah, darling, I'll see you soon." I miss you.

"Hmm," you respond, stealing his signature line right from his lips.

He stays on the line, unwilling to let you go.

"Mitchell?" you ask.

"Yes, love?"

"I guess you missed me too much after all."

He smiles wistfully, "I guess I did."

London

Production for your film wraps in late February, just in time for the initial preparations for the upcoming season of House of the Dragon.

You arrive back in London a week before the table read, just in time to join the rest of the cast for a mini reunion at Matt's apartment.

A few drinks in, with numerous tales regaled amongst the large group about what everyone has been up to for the past half year, and you realise just how much you missed being with the cast.

They truly are the best bunch of people you could have ever dreamed of working with.

You eventually found yourselves branching off into little groups, with some preparing food in the kitchen, others smoking out in the balcony, and the rest scattered in the expanse of the apartment.

Matt's place is well-decorated for a bachelor pad, with personal knick-knacks at every corner. You note this to him, as you sit on the plush carpet in his living room. Your little half-circle consists of yourself, Matt, Phia, Liv, Bethany, and Tom, all in varying degrees of inebriation, but either of the lads arguably take the cake.

"You see that?" Matt leans close, pointing to the green shelf nestled in the corner. "On the second level right there, is a prop I stole from season one."

"No way," you squint in that direction, unaware that he gives you a good once-over, the admiration in his eyes plain to see.

The others are quick to point it out in typical fashion.

"Now, now, Smithy," Tom quips. "Try not to burn holes in the girl with yer eyes there."

"She's my babe," Phia jokes, winking at you.

"Oh really?" Matt simply leans back on his palms, unaffected. "Not Ewan's?"

"Oop - " Liv's eyes widen like saucers. "Don't even go there, Smithy."

"Why ever not?" Matt shrugs.

"Guys," you shake your head, waving a hand in dismissal. "it's fine. It's... whatever."

"He's not here," Matt says. "We can talk about it."

"Gossip girl over here," Bethany smirks.

Matt was right in pointing out that Ewan is yet to arrive back from the States. Of course, Ewan had given you a call letting you know that he would be spending the night before the table read at your apartment.

But right now, in this moment, you didn't really feel like going through the sordid details of your affair.

"We can talk about it," you say, "but I'd rather not."

Matt laughs, "Okay. But are you or are you not together?"

"Matt," Tom groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in amusement at his mate's boldness.

"Hey, it's a simple question!"

"It is, isn't it?" you shrug, allowing him that, because he is speaking true. It is supposed to be simple. "We're not actually together... but some of you already know - " you shoot Tom and Phia pointed glances " - that we had a thing once, and we may have a thing still, only lesser and more casual." You look around the group, hoping they got the gist, and that no follow-up statements are necessary.

"Hey, I get it," Bethany replies. "It sounds complicated, but it's your business, sweetheart."

You hum gratefully. The others jump on another topic, but Matt slinks closer to you, with the on-brand glint in his eyes. He says, lowly, "That's good, then."

Your mouth parts in pleasant surprise, as you finally take notice of the way he looks at you. "Say that again, Smithy?"

"You heard me," he answers. Smooth. Matt has been known to be the resident casanova of the cast, with his undeniable charm on and off set. He can get along with absolutely anyone, and this includes the array of women who get pulled in by his charisma.

It's lost on you why he would now set his sights on you, but you can't deny that you enjoy the attention.

Fabien suddenly comes into view with that digital camera of his pointed towards your group. He snaps one of Tom whose raised bottle of beer half covers his smirking face. Then he turns to you and Matt, saying, "Give papa a smile, kids!"

Matt quickly slings an arm around you, making you lean against him. He coolly points to the camera, posing like he usually does. You smile widely, your brain in a pleasant daze from the alcohol, the banter, and the alluring scent of Matt's perfume.

"Send me a copy of that, Fabs," Matt comments after. Fabien will probably post the photo on his usual Instagram slideshow, but Matt happily stays off the socials.

"Gonna get it framed?" you joke, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

"Oh, you bet," he winks at you, making you swallow nervously. Speaking to him now, in this way, you realise just how easily the Matt Smith is able to get with the ladies. Charm practically oozes off of him.

And Daemon was your original favourite, after all.

Fabien and Matt walk you and Phia back to your apartments in the wee hours of the morning. Though your neighbourhood was only 5 minutes away, the lads gallantly insisted that they wouldn't let you go without an escort.

Your group weaves its way through the empty streets of London, chatting and laughing away, the effects of the alcohol yet to wear off. At some point, Matt wraps an arm around you, and you let him keep it that way.

You have grown fond of him, having spent a lot of time with him during filming. And, well, you needed to keep your balance anyway.

Not to mention, he offers a pleasant distraction from having to yearn all the damn time for what you once had with Ewan.

Fabien and Phia walk ahead to her nearby apartment, so you're left with Matt in front of your building.

"We'll be spending a lot more time together this season, fortunately," he says.

"That's kind of a given," you laugh. "Alyna's never going to drop her oath to the Queen."

"And the King."

"Consort," you finish for him.

He laughs freely, shaking his head, before his expression turns a bit serious. He dips his face closer to yours, whispering, "And in real life? Is Alyna sticking with Aemond?"

That stumps you. Matt's blue eyes are indeed arresting, but one mention of Aemond is enough to bring you back into the Ewan Mitchell spiral.

But... you're not his.

You shrug in response, smiling softly, "I guess some things just aren't meant to be."

You become convinced that the universe must be testing you because your phone buzzes in that moment, revealing an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye.

Matt spots it easily, challenging you with, "So what then, beautiful? Are you going to answer the call?"

It buzzes once more, and another time, before you press decline.

Matt doesn't give you the time to regret your decision. He swoops down and plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Nothing too much, but just enough to toe the line of simply being friendly.

"I - I better head inside - " you stammer, your face heating up.

"You better."

"I'll see you soon, Smithy."

He nods, "See you soon, my Alyna."

Ewan can hardly focus on the script in front of him. He struggles to get his lines out efficiently during the table read, and he hopes that no one else notices.

It would be a miracle if you actually take notice of him, with Matt stealing your attention as he sits to your right.

The cast and crew are positioned around the room, and you just happened to be directly across Ewan, right in his line of sight. He would revel in it, but not now, with Matt leaning in once in a while and whispering something in your ear that makes you softly giggle.

How unprofessional. Whatever he is telling you, it sure must be fucking fascinating.

He isn't entirely oblivious of your growing closeness with Matt. He saw the photos of the two of you walking the streets of London, snug against each other, but he chose not to think much of it. After all, how many times has Matt been pictured with an arm wrapped around a costar? That is just how he is. Open and friendly.

Ewan had not been inclined to think it meant something more in your case.

"Ewan," he hears Tom sharply whisper to his left. "It's your line."

The room is silent in anticipation, eager to get on with the script. You lock eyes with him and offer an encouraging smile, and he is just about to reciprocate, but then he notices Matt's arm resting on the back of your seat.

Like he has laid a claim on you.

Ewan ends up grumbling out his lines, lacking the vulnerability that Aemond is meant to be displaying in that scene.

His keeps his expression stoic, trying to do his best to accomplish the task at hand. A tiny consolation is that the script to season three seems to be marginally better than that for the previous season.

There is not a single scene of Aemond and Alyna thus far, but the script is littered with those of Daemon and Alyna. Which makes complete sense, since they're fighting for the same cause, and Daemon has been somewhat of a mentor to the young Alyna.

Ewan liked their dynamic, being a fan of both the characters, and their real-life counterparts. But the scene that is playing out before him may be enough to sway his bias to the contrary.

Daemon and Alyna. You and Matt.

Ewan scoffs to himself, forgetting where he is for a moment. Tom side-eyes his weird behaviour, thinking, the lad must have left his marbles back in America.

Ewan doesn't notice. His thoughts race a mile a minute - Do the writers not see the potential goldmine they've got with the Aemond and Alyna dynamic? Do they not know how crazy it would drive the fanbase?

Is Matt unaware that it was his name - Ewan's, and no one else's - that you were screaming last night?

Your sputtered little pants of his name rise from his memory, your breathing ragged by the time he finished making love to you the third round in the same night.

That... that was his.

You are -

"Mate," Tom clasps him on the shoulder, "drink some water, yeah? You look bloody flushed."

Ewan hums gratefully, nodding once, shaking the image of you from his mind.

After all, he wears his Adidas joggers today, and the thin material would not be able to conceal it if he ended up having a raging hard-on, in front of everyone during the damn table read.

When another scene of Daemon and Alyna comes on, with you and Matt eagerly reciting your lines to each other, the boyish lust that Ewan entertained essentially dies.

He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile, ever the good and supportive costar.

He raises his head to distract himself by looking around the table, eventually locking eyes with Phia, who had already been looking at him strangely.

You okay? she mouths.

His head snaps toward the sound of your laughter before he could respond.

"Shoot, sorry," you smile, apparently having read the wrong line. Everyone at the table waves it off, a cacophony of 'it's alright' and 'you got this' heard around the room.

When you finish the rather long, drawn-out speech Alyna makes, there is an intermission before the next scene.

People begin turning to each other to make comments, some stand to stretch their legs. Then Ewan hears it - "How'd I do, Smithy?" followed by "Not too shabby, my Alyna."

His Alyna?

Ewan flips the bloody table over in his mind.

Ewan calls you the following night, under the pretense of the arrangement.

In truth, he'd take anything. He could sit on your couch and watch paint dry, if it meant being around you.

"Not tonight, Ewan," you say, and his heart sinks.

"Why not?" he asks, uncaring about how downright needy he sounds.

"Uhhhm, I have a friend over," you reveal.

"Phia? I'm sure she'll understand."

"Oh, come on, Ewan. It's not Phia, and even if it was, I wouldn't just send her away."

"Who then?" he insists, but some part of him already knows the answer.

"Fabien," you say, "and Matt. But Fabien already left to go see Bella, so it's just - "

"You and Matt, huh," he spits bitterly. For an actor, he sure is unable to mask his emotions.

"What are you insinuating? We're friends. You're his friend too, Ewan."

"Hmm," his grip on his phone tightens, "you seem a lot closer than friends to me."

"You're being ridiculous," you scoff. "I would ask you to still come over if you want to hang out with us but not if you're being this unpleasant."

"Forget it," he practically snaps, immediately regretting his tone, "let me know when you're less occupied."

"Ewan - "

"It's okay, darling," he cuts you off, wanting to be done with the conversation already. "I'll come see you before the cast shoot." He refers to the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot the entire cast is slated to do in the coming week, the first offering of season three promo.

"Okay," you exhale, then say, "Sansa misses you."

That earns a weak smile out of him. If only her owner could say that she misses him too. "Does she?"

"Mhmm," you respond, and he hears the smile in your voice, "so... so you better come over soon or she might start clawing at the door."

Matt makes his presence known, his voice becoming audible as he walks into the room where you are, asking, "You alright, love?"

"Ewan, I gotta go," you say in a rush.

"Okay," he sighs in defeat. He drops his phone on the couch, then paces around his apartment, needing to get the picture of you and Matt canoodling out of his mind.

He audibly groans. Why must he torture himself so? If you say that you and Matt are just friends, then that must be the case.

My Alyna, Matt had called you.

In a sudden flash of madness or genius, Ewan picks up his phone and redownloads a certain wretched app.

It takes less than a minute, and soon he finds himself back in the mostly uncharted waters of Instagram. Careful not to accidentally like any post as he had before, he makes his way to the section that lets him create a new post.

Scrolling through his photo gallery, it doesn't take long before he finds one to his liking.

No editing is needed. He knows that the image and its subjects need no addition.

In his eyes, you are perfect as you are.

That night marks Ewan's second ever official post on his Instagram, yet again sending the entire fandom in a wild tailspin.

It's a picture of you sitting on top of your bed, hair slightly dishevelled, and with an old pyjama shirt on. Sansa is cradled on your bare thighs, and a smile graces your face as you pet her dotingly. The angle is from the side, where Ewan lay on his designated part of your bed, surreptitiously taking the picture.

The morning light cast a soft glow on your face, and the entire scene had made Ewan wish he never had to leave.

Under the post, reads the caption -

My Alyna.

💌 next chapter

🎧 series mixtape

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @sprinklesprinkle888 (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

In part 8 - the EW photoshoot, more season three prep, and big news regarding Ewan's upcoming film!

I'm taking all your amazing ideas into account, and you'll continue to see smatterings of them in this story.

As always, I can't wait to talk with yous in the comments! Which couple is your endgame? <3

[beforeimdeceased]

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT4

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: the song was one thing, but calling you up on stage?

a/n: none!

better keep your head down + give me a call if you ever get lonely

masterlist.

the paparazzi are everywhere, all snapping shots of you as you rush into the band’s car. ellie stops to talk with them, ignoring jesse and dina’s pleads for her to get in. the sounds of the excited fans and the paps priding questions ring in your ears.

“so that’s the girl that fucked up your face?”

“i wouldn’t say it’s fucked up. it’d take a lot to fuck this face up. i think i look pretty hot with a bloody nose anyway.”

“and the song you performed earlier today is about her? crybaby?”

“yes—“

“ellie, get in the fucking car.”

“—yes and i’m looking into getting it released soon.”

jesse hops out of the car, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her in. “shit, gotta go guys. it was amazing to see you all—“ is cut off by the door slamming. dina let’s out a heavy sigh and throws her head back.

“i should punch you too.” dina starts. it makes ellie chuckle and she looks over at you. “it’s enough for you to write the song and perform it, but to call her out and bring her up on stage afterwards? ellie, seriously, you’re fucking horrible.”

jesse interjects. “not to mention you doing that during one of our most important songs. you ruined the set i’ve been perfectly curating for months. for what? for fun?”

ellie doesn’t respond. she just stares at you. puffy eyes and pouty lips while you sniffle down your remains of sadness. it felt like this night couldn’t get any worse, and yet you knew when you got back to the hotel she’d somehow find a way to prove you wrong.

“if you wanna sleep in our room tonight it’s fine. i completely understand.” jesse whispers to you as he opens the trunk to grab the bags. you think about it for a moment before shaking your head. you don’t want dina and jesse to feel like they always have to babysit you around ellie. you can handle yourself. you proved that today when you socked her in the face.

“alright kiddo. let me know if you need anything, okay?” he smiles, leading everyone to the rooms.

when you and ellie make it to your room, you both say nothing to each other. you’re sure she’ll break the silence, though. she always does. maybe the silence is uncomfortable for her? or maybe she just likes to hear herself talk.

“you gonna eat something?” ellie chimes up as she sees you walking towards the bathroom. you just ignore her and wash yourself up. you can’t seem to pull your eyes away from your bruised knuckles, or the lingering drowsy feeling after you’d been crying. all you want to do is collapse into the couch and sleep.

when you’re all done, you grab a blanket from your bag and settle yourself onto the couch. then ellie comes over, sitting on your blanket.

“remember when i went to jail?”

you sigh. “get off my blanket. i’m tired i want to go to sleep.” you tug at it but she refuses to move. continuing what she’d previously been saying.

“jesse and dina were on a trip and i called you. you bailed me out.”

it was 4am when you got the call. eyes barely able to open wide enough to see your screen. when you answered your heart dropped. “jail? ellie what the fuck?” you frown. she laughs. “i know right. gotta put this in our next song.” even with her sarcasm and smart ass mouth you could hear how scared she was. and you couldn’t say no. why couldn’t you say no?

you shrug. “so? what does that have to do with anything?”

“remember when you said you never hated me?”

you nod but you were rethinking it all now. flexing your sore hand. looking down at your blanket that she’d decided to hold hostage. confusion written all over your face. you said you never hated her, but not that you’d never hate her.

“i didn’t write that song to be mean—“

you interrupt her with a chuckle. “then what the fuck was it for?”

she angrily gets up and rushes away. “fucking forget it.”

you stand up, throwing a couch pillow at her. “why are you such an asshole, williams? seriously. were you dropped on your head as a baby or something? why do you walk through life as if everybody has done something wrong to you? you’re the tragedy of the story? that’s just not the case.”

she grabs the pillow and rushes at you, hitting you over the head. “why don’t you hate me then, huh? if i’m so terrible why don’t you hate my fucking guts?”

an uncomfortable silence falls between you two. you, bewildered at her question, still finding it hard to believe she cares. failing to understand why it’s your opinion she cares so much about. her, anticipating your answer. on edge. wanting things to make sense. both of you staring at each other. breathing heavy. twisted faces.

you see the scared look in her eyes and you almost want to hold her. want to see her for what she truly is: scared. that’s why she’s always angry. because she’s scared. because she’s alone. because she didn’t mean to, but she’s run everyone away.

but her lip curls into an all knowing smirk. the kind that could only come from predicting your thoughts through your eyes. piercing into your soul to ping at the bit of empathy you had left in you. for her. for the girl who’s angry and scared and alone. the girl who called you onstage in front of a crowd of people to humiliate you.

the girl who embarrassed you at karaoke. turned a video of you drunk falling into a meme. pushes you off to the side so she can be in the middle of dina and jesse on the sidewalk. trips you if you aren’t paying attention. lies. fights. and fucks you over.

your face changes completely, and hers falls when she realizes.

“you’re pathetic. you’re sad and you’re sick. i can’t believe i trusted you. i can’t believe i had sex with you. fuck you.” you yell before storming off. leaving her there. all alone.

“so you’re starting a band?” you ask dina. she nods, smiling. “with jesse and a friend of ours. i can’t wait for you to see us perform. maybe you could come to one of our practices this weekend?”

“yeah, i’d love to meet your friend!”

[samheughanswife]

What is a kiss? Usually a way to express love, affection or as part of a greeting.

So let’s put this into perspective.

. Cast photographed together before boarding the bus that drove them to Murrayfield. So it’s a given that greetings were exchanged. Kisses and hugs, at the very beginning of the class excursion to TS concert with both the Headmistress and her deputy in attendance.

. Arrival and settling into the VIP tent and waiting for the pre show performance. Drinks, talking and familiarising themselves with the setup. Access, security, toilets.

. Sam and Caitriona would have been cognisant that the performance was filmed. All the other performances have been with multiple cameras and drones. TS set the standards very high with the use of technology so everyone can enjoy and benefit from her concerts.

. The chances of being filmed were high. They were very close to the stage and in the line of sight of the multiple cameras. These are two people very well versed in outdoor and location filming. Not novices. They would have seen the crew pre show.

. Paramore start their set with introductions and then their performance.

. Not sure how long they were in attendance before Paramore came on stage and not my job to find out. But suffice to say co-star catchup interactions were done and dusted.

What the video shows is a woman, Caitriona, so intuitively and intimately comfortable with Sam that she draws him in, arm around his neck and kisses him. Twice. It’s there on film. And it’s this that has the tumblrinas knickers so twisted.

We see a Caitriona who clearly not only “likes” her costar ( you know that she is said to hate him) but initiates UNNECESSARY closeness and deep affection, LOVE, for Sam whichever way you look at it. It was hours into being together on the excursion, not minutes.

These aren’t stills or screenshots. It’s on film. In technicolour. Swifty technicolour 🩷💚🩵🩶💙❤️💛🤎💜.

The existence of this video was dropped into the inbox of multiple accounts. It was there to watch and disseminate and ultimately share.

The only one to do so was @sgiandubh. I thank you so much and I’m saddened but not surprised that you have had to deal with the typical bullshit that comes from sharing any content that rattles the entrenched group think and mindset of so many.

“You think I’d leave your side, baby

You know me better than that

You think I’d leave when you’re down on your knees

I wouldn’t do that” By your Side, Sade 🤎

Caitriona showed not only her support for Sam after the HH pap walk but love as well. Platonic if you aren’t a believer and of course for me a woman who was unafraid and with zero fucks to give because she was aware that there was a chance it would be seen and still she moved in with the kisses and hugs.

Smooth operator ( sorry couldn’t help myself 😘)

N.B. Real life happens, I’m not here hitting refresh 24/7.

I’ve enjoyed reading the experts trying to make it make sense. The discomfort is real.

Caitriona forcing herself to get through a few hours of non work ( but it kinda was) with a co star she has barely tolerated these past few years and what do we see, deep down love and affection.

As as it’s often screeched ‘photos or it didn’t happen’ well we have video footage!!

[sophiebaek]

An over-analysis of the Yerin Ha as Sophie Baek announcement video

Because I literally can't be chill about the official announcement and love being delusional, here's me reading into everything!

Fitting for our first shot being of Yerin walking and stepping into her role as leading lady

Very similar to how we will see Sophie entering the masquerade ball

The silver shoe is a direct reference to The Lady in Silver and also feels very Cinderella

I've already seen people complain about the nails and chill. Clearly this is not Yerin in costume as Sophie. I think production has heard the criticism loud and clear about the s3 styling; there is a whole new makeup and wardrobe team for s4 (which is good in sense that it'll be different from past seasons but also that they're getting a team that knows how to do make up on Yerin. I've had my make up done in western styles and it just does not suit my face and features.)

ANYWAYS my point are the rings :)

We see two silver rings that represent Yerin playing essentially two different characters (The Lady in Silver & Sophie Baek), but long story short it's really just one person

Yerin looks through clothes and stops at a silver dress and gloves; representing the one she will wear to the ball (But obviously not this one in the video)

She also holds the gloves themselves as they are the object that Benedict uses the find her and is the catalyst to aofag pt 2 in the book.

The glove part is also one of my most favorite moment of the ball bc 👀

Just like Benedict, we don't fully see her face at first

A reference to the mystery of Sophie/LIS and our long awaited anticipation of seeing her on screen

As we finally get to see Yerin's face, we see she's in pink

Now as an individual who's degree made her take color theory I love color symbolism

Pink is a delicate color with white but it also has the boldness and power of red

It's a color that's feminine, romantic, and tender

Pink also is associated with healing

I love that they chose to introduce us to Sophie/Yerin in pink because the color represents everything Sophie is and what's important about her character

Lastly I noticed this sparkly beading on her sweater that's hidden under Yerin's hair...

This could be another nod hinting that Sophie is the Lady in Silver

One thing I observed is a good amount of people did not know who Sophie was.

This announcement was made because filming will be starting this month and the paps will for sure be there, but also it's for fans who've been waiting years for sophie (book fans mostly)

The caption to this video only list Yerin as Sophie

Fans who go in with no prior knowledge do not know Sophie = Lady in Silver and I think the show is making a point on keeping it a mystery even though we'll probably know she is the LIS in ep 1

Welcome Yerin Ha and Sophie Baek 🤍

You are already so loved and thank you for representing us Asian girlies xx

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Sussex Survivors Club

Tom Sykes of The Daily Beast dropped an article yesterday about the latest Sussex employee to bail out.

There's some good gossip in the article, such as:

For example, one photographer who was requested to pitch to work for their wedding told The Daily Beast: “It was incredibly exciting to be asked to present for the wedding. I had to go to Kensington Palace where I laid out several mood boards in what was then their office. Eventually, Meghan walked in, took one look at what I had prepared and said, in the meanest way possible, ‘No.’ Then she spun on her heel and walked out. I was left in tears. It was horrible.” Another contractor, a florist, The Daily Beast was told, was “monstered” by Meghan after posting an innocuous message on social media trying to source flowers for a bouquet Meghan had requested they make. The florist vowed never to work with Meghan again despite the prestige associated with such a client. Harry, by contrast, has generally been seen as a considerate and thoughtful boss. Another contractor who worked at his wedding told The Daily Beast how Harry helped set up one of the bars in a marquee before the event kicked off. 

There's also a couple eye-rolly moments like this one:

Reports this week, in the wake of Kettler’s departure, have claimed that 18 people have resigned or left Harry and Meghan Markle’s employ since she married Harry, with nine leaving since they moved to the USA. However, defenders of Harry and Meghan would be quick to point out that some staff, such as James Holt, who moved to America with the Sussexes, have remained in post for many years, and point out that there is plenty of churn in Prince William and Princess Kate’s office too, but they don’t get accused of being bad bosses every time a new hire doesn’t work out.

(Eye-rolly because why do we even need to drag William and Kate into this to begin with? Oh, I forgot. Because Tom needs his paycheck and Meghan needs her SEO.)

Anyway. I was going to do a deep dive into the photographer and florist to see if there's any more details there but...18 ex-staffers seems awfully low compared to all the stories that have trickled out over the years.

So let's count them!

Kensington Palace Survivors

Christian Jones. Meghan was papped taking him to lunch, causing many to believe she poached him from Burberry and he was working directly for her; however, when the household split, Christian stayed at KP with the Cambridges. I'm too lazy at the moment to check, but I think Christian was one of the four KP staffers that planned to testify in one of the lawsuits, and I'm fairly certain Meghan's pissed at him about something (or everything) because Endgame ended up being a hit job on Christian.

Amy Pickerill. She was formerly Harry's PA but transferred to staff Meghan during the engagement and was so closely trusted by Meghan that Amy was given the honorable task of...airport duty? (Amy was tapped to pick up Doria at the airport for the wedding.) Amy is suspected to be one of the two PAs that Meghan bullied, descriptions of which Jason Knauf included in his letter. Amy quit working for the Sussexes, went private for a little bit, but was then immediately hired by The Royal Foundation, where she became involved with Earthshot, where Kate was overheard greeting her with "Well done, Amy!" It's also believed that Amy is the PA whom William was once witnessed comforting while she was upset. Amy is also suspected of being the aide seen crying (after being yelled at by Meghan) by one of the royal reporters; the reporter chose not to print this incident when it happened because "privacy" but later admitted it sometime post-Oprah.

Melissa Toubati. Formerly Robbie William's PA, she joined KP during the engagement and was assigned to the Sussexes' staff, where she helped plan the wedding and the Australia tour. She quit after about six months or so after the Australia tour, where allegedly Meghan threw a cup of tea and/or a pair of scissors at her, which allegedly led to a handsome payoff by the BRF and a NDA. She is the aide that Valentine Low described as getting fired for something she didn’t do, suspected to be related to a disagreement over Meghan’s accepting of freebies. Harry then threw her under the bus in Spare, writing that he and Meghan turned her in to HR for taking freebies that were sent to Meghan. (Thanks for the correction, anon! Original text left below.) Melissa is thought to be the second of two PAs referenced in Jason's letter.

did get a shoutout from Harry in Spare, who said that Melissa and Meghan butted heads over Meghan wanting to keep all the clothes she was given while Melissa was in favor of following protocol (i.e., returning all the clothes or sending payment for each item received).

Samantha Cohen. She was a valued aide to Queen Elizabeth, given to the Sussexes to help Meghan learn the ropes and whip their staff into shape. Samantha the Panther famously accompanied Meghan on her first (only) engagement with The Queen - yes, the hatless toilet tank engagement - and to Australia. Sam's assignment to the Sussexes was just supposed to be a few weeks, but it stretched for well over a year. Samantha later made private remarks that have since become prophetic, that Meghan had no interest in getting along with anyone (or something to that effect) and she has also made comments that Meghan often screamed at the staff (including her) and pushed Samantha past her breaking limit.

Edward Lane Fox. He was Harry's valued aide, having worked for him for five years and is largely the brains behind Invictus Games. He announced his departure from the Sussexes' staff a few weeks before the wedding, allegedly citing Meghan as the reason why he was leaving. He continues to serve on Invictus Games' board. About six months before the wedding, Ed gave Meghan a 30-page dossier on being a member of the BRF, on everything from curtsey protocol to fashion tips to advice about walkabouts to information about charities and public life. Meghan apparently refused to read it.

Sonia Lane Fox. ELF’s wife. I can't find her name or many details about her, but she supposedly worked for Meghan during the engagement and couldn't take it anymore. She left soon after ELF did.

Edit: I’m getting asks from anons saying that ELF and Amy Pickerill are married but that’s not true - at least not in 2018-2019 when all this went down. I did some insomnia research and found this list of Sussex wedding guests, where ELF is mentioned as attending with his wife Sonia (and here is their engagement announcement). ELF and Sonia could very well be divorced now and Ed remarried to Amy (but still, I doubt that because there would be mentioned in some of the stories about former Sussex staff); however, since what is known about ELF’s wife working for the Sussexes is dated to the wedding, this means Sonia and she remains a separate entry.

Unnamed Assistant. Bower discusses this assistant in Revenge, saying this particular individual once had to call Meghan after hours for clarification, which led to Meghan screaming at her "you can't do anything right, I'll do it myself."

Sara Latham. Technically Sara didn't quit the Sussexes, the Sussexes quit her. She worked for the Sussexes all the way through Megxit, after which she was absorbed by Buckingham Palace.

Natalie Campbell. Natalie was a KP staffer mostly well known for the work she did with Meghan's Hubb Cookbook (aka I think Natalie did all the work and Meghan just posed for the photos). It's not clear what other work she may have done for the Sussexes (or the Cambridges) or how/on what terms she left the Sussexes' staff.

Clara Loughram. Clara's an interesting staffer. She initially came into the Sussexes' employ while working at KP. She helped with the wedding planning and was the woman who gave Meghan her flowers when she arrived at St. George's Chapel for the wedding. She stuck by the Sussexes' when the household split and lost her job through Megxit; however, the Sussexes later re-hired Clara as a freelancer for Archewell, who worked on their UK projects but Clara has since left the Sussexes' employment.

Edit: Apparently Clara established her own company that the Sussexes continue to contract for support planning their overseas work, according to some anons. I’ll still leave Clara in this list because she doesn’t technically work personally for the Sussexes anymore.

Jason Knauf. The big kahuna. Everyone knows Jason's story. He was the Communications guy for KP, working with William, Kate, Harry, and Meghan. When the household split, Jason stayed at KP with the Cambridges. He advised Meghan on her letter to Tom and poked a lot of holes in her testimony. He also wrote a damning letter about Meghan's behavior towards staff that led to the bullying investigation, which was DOA.

Katrina McKeever. She was part of the communications team at KP and was said to have also helped Meghan with the wedding planning. She quit just before the Australia trip, allegedly over Meghan's harsh criticism of how certain wedding plans were executed though Meghan denies criticizing anyone.

Melissa Crow. She used to be Madonna's assistant and allegedly worked for the Sussexes but quit abruptly. There's not a whole lot of information out there about her - it's totally possible that people confused her for Melissa Toubati, but I'm including her anyway on this list.

Unnamed Female RPO. This woman quit after (or in the middle of) the Sussexes' Australasia trip. Many suspect her to be the blonde RPO seen escorting Meghan through the terrifying Fiji market.

Staffer Who Quit In Africa. An unnamed staffer who quit the Sussexes' office - or pulled out of consideration for a Sussex position - after joining the team for the Sussexes' South Africa visit.

The Midnight Nanny. One of the nannies hired by Harry and Meghan after Archie was born allegedly quit mid-shift in the middle of the night over the Sussexes' behavior.

Another Unnamed Nanny. If I'm remembering the details correctly, the Sussexes went through several nannies before finding "the perfect fit." I think there were three nannies trialled, including the midnight nanny (see above).

Another Unnamed Assistant. I don't know if this is the same unnamed assistant as the one further up or if this is someone who's already been named, but there was a second assistant who Tom Bower claims Meghan threw under the bus with her freebies.

Let's take a break for a second. That's 18 known staffers that quit working for the Sussexes. (Okay, 17 because Sara Latham didn't technically quit.) Already we've blown Tom Sykes's estimation out of the water. Again, 18 people that quit their jobs in a span of 23 months. But sure, let's talk about the turnover in William and Kate's staff.

And we're not even counting the RPOs Meghan pissed off by treating like her personal servants!

Archewell Survivors

Ben Browning. He was the head of content for Archewell and worked the Netflix deal. He quit after the docuseries.

Bennett Levine. He was also involved in the Netflix deal with Archewell.

Catherine St-Laurent. She's the Gates Foundation poach. Didn't last very long, less than a year I think. Not really sure what her role was. I think she was supposed to be like a CEO or an Executive Officer to Archewell. Her quitting was the subject of a CDAN rumor alleging that no one actually likes the Sussexes, they're just working for the resume credit.

Josh Ketter. Harry's CEO-assistant who quit this week after only three months in the position. The Sussexes are spinning it as his employment was only temporary. Sure, Jan.

Fara Taylor. She was hired to do Archewell's marketing but lost her job when they "streamlined" the Archewell staff. (aka they didn't have money to pay their staff.)

Rebecca Sananes. She was on the Archewell Audio side of things and helped Meghan with the podcast. She quit (or was "let go" - it's not clear which) after Spotify failed to renew Archetypes for a season 2.

Mandana Dayani. She's the big kahuna of post-Megxit, and the staffer who worked the longest with Meghan. She served in a COO-type role for Archewell, overseeing much of the charity work and helping Meghan with her personal brand development. Mandana did accompany Meghan to Uvalde. Mandana allegedly abandoned Meghan, leaving her high and dry by creating American Riviera Orchard for Meghan but not doing any of the paperwork or developing any ideas for product.

Toya Holness. Archewell's press secretary. She was said to be a mini-Meghan or a "Meghan in suits" (something like that, which didn't make sense). She didn't last very long.

Now, Tom Sykes said there were 9 staffers who left the Sussexes after they moved to California. This is only 8 people. I'm not sure who the ninth is - maybe he's counting Clara, who was rehired by the Sussexes post-Megxit? If so:

Clara Loughram. Clara's an interesting staffer. She initially came into the Sussexes' employ while working at KP. She helped with the wedding planning and was the woman who gave Meghan her flowers when she arrived at St. George's Chapel for the wedding. She stuck by the Sussexes' when the household split and lost her job through Megxit; however, the Sussexes later re-hired Clara as a freelancer for Archewell, who worked on their UK projects but Clara has since left the Sussexes' employment.

Edit: Apparently Clara established her own company that the Sussexes continue to contract for support planning their overseas work, according to some anons. I’ll still leave Clara in this list because she doesn’t technically work personally for the Sussexes anymore.

So in sum. That's 26 known people who've quit working for the Sussexes. There's probably a few more that we don't know about, both from the KP side and the Archewell/post-Megxit side.

Tom Sykes can go ahead and shove his "let's talk about Kate not being able to keep a CEO" talk where the sun don't shine because 26 people quitting is not the same as 3 people quitting.

[crazymadpassionatelove]

Cool Girl

Notes: None of this would be possible without my dearest darlings @ab4eva and @precious-little-scoundrel! All the hugs and kisses to you both xo

Part 2

-

Here's the thing nobody ever admits about being the other half of a celebrity: it's actually as hard or as easy as you make it. Enter hunky, gifted actor who just happens to be hung like a horse? Well, being his lady isn't hard at all. You just have to know the rules. Number one, you can't hear the noise. Not literally, you can hear it. You must strive to live in such a bubble that none of it matters though. You shop, power walk your gated community, and take cock like it's the only job you have. Truly, it is. Pleasing him is of utmost importance. Be ready to hop a plane at a moment’s notice, or even get fucked on said plane. You're so busy spending your man’s cash snapping up authentic mid-century modern homes before certain celebrities turn them into minimalist gray prisons, raising money for dogs who need prosthetics, and trying your hand at that sourdough bread craze, you really don't even have time to see the Instagram hate being spewed your way 24/7.

Number two, remaining an enigma. Selling energy drinks on social media? Having your man pay off some fast fashion brand to “partner” with you for a collection? Appearing on some campy sitcom as a guest star? Not for you, the thought of it actually makes you recoil. You're too busy doing all the little things and making his once barely furnished house a home. Homemade chocolate chip cookies with the chocolate specially flown in from Belgium on his private plane? Check! Gold vintage jewelry via that cute little flea market in Paris is clanking as you insist on being the ones to change the bedroom sheets. A housekeeper comes once a month, and even she comments coyly about your chemistry. Still, she need not see the soaked sheets from the multiple round of lovemaking the two of you do at all hours of the day and night.

Being seen on the red carpet is not your cup of tea, but it's the equivalent of attending your man's office Christmas party. So you pick out a dress, aka one of the couture houses offers to dress you, and he flies you to Paris for multiple fittings and macarons. Then there's some vintage Van Cleef jewelry that appears on the dining room table one morning, and a fresh new pair of Louboutins is the final piece to the puzzle. Then, looking very demur and shy, you appear on his arm, clinging to it actually. You'll smile at the various television hosts and press. Speak softly, and practically defer to him for all questions. He's the star, you're just a great supporting act. Then, when the night is finally done, you both breathe a sigh of relief and he thanks you for being such a good sport. How about a McDonald's drive thru run, huh? That face, oh that handsome fucking face of his that you've been dying to kiss all night. He just always knows what to say. So that's how you're papped still in your couture gown, he in a wrinkled white button down, his jacket slid around your shoulders, feeding each other French fries and chicken nuggets, splitting a milkshake. How wholesome and Americana honestly.

That night he promises to thank you again. Austin's perfect lips wrap themselves around your puffy clit as two, then three fingers curl, shove, and squelch inside you. “You were such a good girl the whole night, baby.” There's something about being called a good girl that makes you absolutely feral. He brings you to orgasm over and over, you lose count after about 7. He's just getting started though. He hasn't even slipped inside. When he does though, it's rough. The glorious slapping sounds of flesh fill the room as he brings himself to the edge over and over, denying himself a release and giving you an additional, what three or four orgasms? You've left feral behind and have crossed over into absolute animalistic filth as you bury yourself in the goose down pillows and practically shove it in your mouth howling. Letting him have his way as you throb and clench, hot and pink with almost blurred vision as he talks you through it. Peppering the conversation with lots of “that's my girl, my pretty baby cums so damn pretty”. When you think you're in need of a paramedic, he blows inside you something reminiscent of Niagara falls. He knows how much you love a vocal man. You end the night not being able to feel your limbs or do anything beyond closing your eyes with a lazy, bashful grin. He gives you one last slap to the ass then mentions as you drift off, “Could you make some of those brownies of yours for the cast and crew tomorrow?”

The third rule of being the other half to everyone's favorite blue eyed baby boy actor? Less is more. This sort of goes hand in hand with the enigma rule. Those celebrities who traipse around in loud designer clothing and accessories covered in flashy logos? That's not you or your man for that matter. Sure you have handbags that cost more than some people's cars, but they are solid authentic leather bags your guy finds you in far flung corners when he's on location. No one really notices when you're papped and printed in People Magazine. You keep your head down in aviators he takes to wearing, a nice little subtle nod. The bands you each wear on that finger are a solid Welsh gold. Whenever his slightly deranged fans see you, the one thing they can't call you is a golddigger. You drive a jeep or even that old Ford truck he restored himself, no Lamborghinis in your garage.

Part of the less is more shtick though is being able to give a cute little nod to him here and there when appropriate. When he's cast in a certain biopic that alters his career and your lives? You sit tight and let him have his moment, after all, you know all the behind the scenes work that goes into it. The blood, sweat, and tears. There are times when he takes method acting to such a level that it's almost like going to bed with another man. You can't exactly complain though. The slight drawl that appears when he says your name is something he is never able to truly shake and you're glad. When the moment is right though, you post a tongue in cheek Instagram post. Your feed is normally bogged down with pictures of the pets, your baking, and various charities you support. This time though, you post a rare photo of yourself looking like you're a certain sort of American royalty stepped from a time machine. It's a candid shot with you at his feet. Worshiping. Except now it's sort of like you worship two men. It's fairly well received, friends tell you, though there will always be hate. Remember, you can't hear the noise. You certainly can't hear the noise women old enough to be your grandmother are making as they lust over the man who's cock you gag on every night.

Those utterly delectable fingers of his snake inside you, make you hiss and come undone as that tongue in cheek sort of throw back makeup you're sporting runs down your cheeks. “Who's my pretty girl?” He teases you. A good hour later when he finally allows himself his own release he's panting your name into your ear. He settles himself in between your breasts. Didn't his agent once mention the girls on Tumblr call him baby boy? If only they could catch a glimpse of him now. Murmuring against your skin and tracing what feels like hearts on your arms. You scroll Zillow and read out the six-figure price tags on castles in Ireland. How does fucking in a dungeon sound, honey?

Rule number four? Be ready to go to bat for him at any moment, others opinions be damned. Being Austin's other half brings out a protective streak in you. A maternal bodyguard quasi agent of sorts. Always keep your eyes peeled for the photogs, especially when he's indulging in that pesky little smoking habit he doesn't exactly like to advertise. That actual management team of his isn't bad, especially once the Elvis flick is underway and you learn just exactly how bad certain managers can be. Still, nobody has his best interests at heart the way you do. Keep his favorite snacks on hand in your purse, water ready at a moment's notice. Your boy has a tendency to work himself to the bone and you certainly cannot allow him to run himself ragged. Tea with hot honey every night was a must while he immersed himself in Elvis. Be his soft place, let him cry and vent while you run your fingers through those golden locks. Take whatever you can off his plate so he can dedicate himself to his craft.

Some wonder if you've lost yourself in him and his life, but it's the exact opposite. You've found yourself. When that angel boy praises you during press tours and jokes on talk shows about you flying out in the middle of the night to see to it his shirts are starched the way he likes and he eats breakfast, well you just sit there and smile. “I couldn't be me without her.” Those words make you melt and you immediately crave the feeling of his hot cream inside you. Playing Elvis brought out a side of him that never truly leaves once filming wraps. Stressed? Tired? Enamored? Him bending you over while you're brushing your teeth becomes a common occurrence. “That's my baby – take it, take it,” you've gotta talk it all out of him sometimes and that's fine with you. You stand in the wings of the Kelly Ripa show and try in vain to hide your red face when a PA offers you a napkin. “I think you spilled something down your leg,” the young girl offers. Something spilled all right, him inside you with his hands gripping your hair just minutes before he was due on stage.

Everything is just so right, it's only natural that cool girl very quickly becomes cool wife.

-

[starkwlkr]

hi babe!! love your dad!Charles ideass!! ABSOLUTELY MY EVERYDAY READ!! anyway if you don’t mind, can you make where ruby is jealous of her little sister/brother because her parents give too much attention to him/her and she thinks they forget her.

why not me? | charles leclerc

am i using a mitski lyric as the title? yes. i also got another request similar except uncle pierre makes an appearance

request: Hi! You should do a baby Leclerc one shot where she tells Pierre she’s going to live w him since they had the baby and she thinks they’ve forgotten her

Mathéo was crying too much, that’s what Ruby thought. She didn’t really understood why he even cried. Y/n always fed him, changed his diaper and even called him sweet names to comfort him. Years ago, Ruby was in Mathéo’s position, but now she was older and she didn’t like being pushed to the side.

Ruby was in her playroom. She was coloring in her Barbie book when she heard Mathéo cry. Charles was away for another race so it was just Y/n with her children in their home. Ruby ignored the crying baby since Y/n was taking care of him and continued coloring in. Once she was done, she put down her crayon and walked into Mathéo’s nursery where she found her mother attempting to calm the baby down. Y/n looked stressed, she probably slept about three hours since Mathéo didn’t want to sleep so he cried all night long.

“Mama, look! You’re not looking! I colored Barbie! I want to show grand-mére, can you take a picture and send it to her?” Ruby showed her work proudly.

“Give me a second, Ruby, your brother needs me right now.” Y/n adjusted the baby in her arms.

Ruby watched as her mother held the baby close to her. She felt jealous, she’ll admit that. They went four years with Ruby as their only child and suddenly Mathéo came. Now she had to share everything, especially the love and attention from her parents, uncles, aunts and most importantly, her grand-mére.

“Can you take a picture now?”

“Ruby, I can’t, I’m taking care of your brother.” Y/n sighed as Mathéo continued crying.

“But you always take care of him!”

Ruby ran out of the room nearly in tears. She decided that her parents didn’t need her, not since the new baby arrived. She ran to the living room and saw her mother’s phone on the kitchen counter. She knew she was still on a phone ban but she picked it up and unlocked it. She clicked on the messages icon and saw pierre’s name. She opened up the messages and typed out one of her own.

Y/n

uncle peair can i c ome live wiht you ?

She hit send and waited for a response. Luckily for her, pierre wasn’t busy.

Pierre

what’s wrong, my little ruby?

Y/n

mama do es not love m e

Pierre

Of course she does.

Y/n

No

I want to live wiht u and ki ka

Ruby didn’t get a response back from Pierre. She immediately thought that Pierre was already on his way to pick her up. What she didn’t know was that Pierre has shown the messages to Charles.

Suddenly Y/n’s phone started ringing with Charles’ contact name appearing on the screen. Ruby took the phone to her mother and then ran back to her room.

“Hey, you okay?” Y/n said when she answered the call. She put the call on speaker since she was about to change Mathéo’s diaper.

“I’m okay. But Pierre just received some messages from Ruby. They came from your phone.” Charles explained so Y/n checked her texts and saw what Ruby had typed to the Frenchman.

“Oh, Ruby.” Y/n sighed. “She was trying to show me her coloring book and Mathéo was crying. I’ll talk to her.”

“Give her kisses for me, I’ll be home soon. Let me know how it goes.” Charles said then Y/n hung up.

After changing Mathéo, Y/n carried him to Ruby’s room where she was all snuggled up with blankets in her bed watching ‘Cars’ on her iPad.

“Ruby, papa told me that you sent uncle pierre some messages. You want to live with uncle pierre and kika?” Y/n entered the room and sat on her daughter’s bed.

“Yes and he’s already on his way.” She said confidently.

“Well uncle pierre lives in Italy and papa and i would miss you so much.” Y/n said.

“No you wouldn’t! You have the baby.” Ruby replied.

“Ruby, papa and i love you and the baby so much. You’re my special little girl and Mathéo is my special little boy. You were the one who made me a mama. You know before you were born, I thought I was never going to be able to have children and then you came. That’s why you’re my special little girl, Ruby Jules.”

“Am I papa’s special girl too?” She asked curiously.

“You’ve always been, baby. He was so excited to meet you. He cried so many times but don’t tell him I told you.” Y/n chuckled when she saw Ruby laugh at the thought of her papa crying.

“So you still love me?”

“Ruby Jules, we never stopped loving you.”

[footballerimaginess]

That isn't me

“You said I love you to a girl that isn’t me, how am I supposed to react?”  Daily prompt from @hayleysprompts Trent Alexander Arnold Word Count: 618 The last few weeks had been awful for you, your relationship had been all over social media due to Trent being seen with someone else. The past few weeks had been a blur, you'd moved out of your house due to the press being outside your flats and wanting to know information about your relationship.

You had stayed in bed most of the time, whilst Trent had tried to contact you so much since the video was leaked. But you were in no mood to speak to him. Once again your phone buzzed beside you as your sister walked in. "You need to answer it, he will constantly be ringing. Just go back home, I know you don't want to but I think you should" she suggested as she placed a glass of water on the beside table. "Mm suppose so" you muttered as you pressed the call button. "Hi" you muttered into the phone. "We need to talk, you can't keep avoiding me" Trent grumbled down the phone. "Okay meet me then?" you suggested. "Alright, we need to meet in private. I really don't want to be seen by the paps again" he laughed. "Fine. Choose the place and just text me it" you bluntly replied as you ended the call. - You read the text as you saw where you were meeting, you had to make yourself look a little bit presentable. Something you hadn't done for the past few days was get out of your pyjamas. - You headed to the place you were meeting, walking in as you watched him staring straight at you. "Hi" you muttered as you sat down in front of him. "Thanks for meeting me" he smiled as he sipped on his drink. "Fine, would have liked it not to be so public though what if we get seen again" you muttered as you were starting to feel nervous with eyes all on you. "Sorry, we can leave if you want to. Just walk somewhere quieter with no peering eyes" you nodded as you stood up and walked out of the cafe that had appeared a lot more busier than when you first walked in there. "So how are you?" he asked quietly. "Great, whole of the internet knows my life and that you are a dirty cheat. So yeah, doing fantastic thanks" you rolled your eyes sarcastically. "Cut that out, don't be like that" Trent told you. "Are you being fucking serious right now?" you exclaimed, raising your voice as you felt the rage bubble inside of you. "Yes you are seriously overacting to the video, there is no need to be like this. You know how much I love you and you are being stupid. The video means nothing" Trent told you as he leaned forward to try and grab your hand. "You said I love you to a girl that isn’t me, how am I supposed to react?” you shouted at him as he shook his head. "Oh you are overacting, give over babe. You know my true feelings, this isn't worth arguing over. Just come home now" Trent tried to reassure you but you were having none of it. "I am not overacting at all Trent, you are the one that was plastered all over the internet kissing and saying I love you to someone else. But I should just suck it up, no thanks. Excuse me, I think this conversation is very much done." you stood up "Again are you serious? you are really walking away from this. Why are you doing this to me? walking away from me? whatever" he shouted out as you walked off. This was the start of a new chapter.. Let me know if anyone wants part 2?

[fanofseabassanddorito]

Dear Chris Evans,

I’ve waited and watched. I’ve gone back and forth with Real vs PR. I’m just a fan, of your work, but I also because of what you seemed to stand for and acted like a real person. I think I’m done now.

There has been questionable ‘sightings’ even though you claim to want to be private. Your friends and hers have posted the two of you. You have posted her twice yourself. But then you seem to hide her. That isn’t a good look. If you are in love with someone, you don’t hide them because you want to be private yet leak photos and hints to keep your fans spiraling when you know how some can be.

We all know celebrities use social media for what they WANT fans to see. Why? Because they want privacy, as they should, to separate their work world from real life. I completely agree with doing so, BUT I don’t agree with going back and forth. You owe fans nothing except maybe the respect that goes both ways. After all, your fans have been the reason you have your paychecks. I think we deserve a little bit of respect not to be played by what you say in interviews vs. what you show yourself to be through your actions.

There are so many examples of couples being private but NOT hiding significant others like they are embarrassed to be seen. A real private couple does things together but do not post montages on their socials, like scare videos and couples pictures. People do not call paparazzi unless they want to be seen. A real private couple does still go to things together, they don’t hide but they don’t bring attention to themselves. Real private couples do not let things drop during a special date for something else. One example, the NYC pap walk on the day that Warrior Nun season 2 dropped right after SMA.

Tabloids run on things they are given. There have been more articles about you and this girl than Harry and Meghan, Jennifer and Ben, etc., etc., etc. your reps have never confirmed anything. IMDb does not list her as your wife. Your mother liked a tweet about the girl being racist.

I had no issues at first, thinking you wanted privacy, which I thought was a great idea, given your fandom. I gave you the benefit of the doubt for a good while. But then it seemed like her friends and yours, her mom, along with the likes on IG, proved this isn’t private. Certain social media sites have been the only ones to randomly get these pictures that are nowhere to be found. It’s only a few, and they usually come at specific times when there is doubt. Friends posted from Lisbon, Avengers in MA, and the wedding rumors began. I’m sorry, but when there is an NDA, then the wedding news should not have leaked because the NDA would cover that. And if you have to ask people to turn in their phones to attend, that’s rude and you’ve invited people you don’t trust.

Showing up to a convention, with a ring on but you can’t say her name. Just ‘Go Portugal!’ And then go on about Dodger.

Let’s not even get into photoshopped or not photoshopped because I don’t even know anymore.

I could go on and on but it saddens me. I cannot be a fan of someone just because of their projects, and that’s just me. I have kept quiet, because it’s none of my business what you do with your life. What is my business though, is who I give my hard earned money to. Barely getting by on what I make, medications and food for my kids continue to rise in cost, but they also enjoy Captain America because he seemed like a good guy in real life too. Now they come to me with things they’ve seen online like Captain America’s new wife nude in the shower. They have seen people posting about her friends and their previous tweets, and things they’ve said. Why? Because you have played games with your fandom and they got pissed and exposed things. Let’s be honest, kids get online and see things even if they aren’t supposed to. Luckily they didn’t see your ‘slip’ up, because your fans cleaned that for you quickly, but the shower pictures continue to be passed around. They also said in some of the pictures they saw you post that they thought you had a daughter but found out it was your girlfriend.

I would make sure you don’t have any more slip ups because I feel like your fans are limited at this point. The ones that see your work the day it comes out. That’s one reason why Ghosted flopped. Before this, your fans would have said you did wonderful even if you didn’t.

After the new picture of the two of you at the Globes after party, I CHOOSE to not be a fan and hand you my money. I know it isn’t much, but I will choose to spend it on a different movie or person at a convention. Maybe I just won’t have a favorite anymore because it seems like a lot just tell fans what they want to hear.

I don’t know if it’s Real or PR and don’t care but it’s the game you seem to be playing that I don’t like. I don’t care what people think of my opinion and have not posted anything about a side. I just know you look like such a hypocrite and lose fans by the hour now. So many blogs and pages that are team PR or Team Real and they argue over who is right and wrong, because you and everyone around you are playing with them. You are using them for free publicity and that is sickening. I didn’t believe it was happening and you were just trying to protect your love life. But, eventually, it was just so obvious with the tiniest bit of things creeping in on the same sites and coincidences on dates. Mostly, I just don’t want to watch all the drama that has become part of being your fan. I like to escape the real world by looking at my favorite celebrities and what they are up to or their movies etc. I don’t want to see the gross mess you have become. She looks like your daughter, so I choose to leave. You don’t know me or care because I’m just one fan, but I do know who you want people to see you as now and I don’t like this version. Be private or just don’t hide. Look happy, not miserable. Treat her like your love and wife, because I would never allow my boyfriend/husband treat me the way it appears you are treating her. To the public, she looks like a mail order bride that jumps as soon as you tell her too. It’s gross.

So, it’s been a long, fun ride being your fan until now. Enjoy traveling back and forth and wear sunscreen to the beach, because boy are you white. Research the word ‘privacy’ and maybe get those NDA’s to the people leaking things if you want privacy or take their phones from them when they are in your proximity. Invest in energy drinks next, she’s a lot younger and likes to travel and have sex (maybe check out her soft porn). Let Buddah know she did a film with a demon having sex with her. Maybe purchase a plane and get a pilots license, because older dogs don’t travel as well as they age and that’s a long ride to Portugal. Remind your wife to keep her clothes on and keep your 🍆 in your pants because I think Team Real is even over this mess and don’t want to see it. Thanks for the laughs and smiles over the years. I wish you luck and hope you’re happier than you actually look.

Sincerely,

An Ex-Fan of Christopher Robert Evans

[daisiesonafield-blog]

Oh also saving the DailyMail version of this disgusting bullshit:

Also, laugh with me as you watch this pathetic video of the pap walk. You can literally see how they're slowly walking so the paps can get the pictures. These two are just gross:

That unnatural slow pap walk. YIKES.

TMZ article here.

[partycatty]

I can't get enough of young Johnny MK11! I love him, god!🥵 How do you like this topic for fanfic? Fem!reader put his jacket and glasses on his naked body, and took sexy selfies.😎❤️‍🔥 Johnny saw this aaand here I’m already giving way to your fantasy hehe~

Thank you in advance! I like the way you write! Well done💕

i'm not sure if i read it right ?? lmk, but i went with my interpretation

johnny cage > call me

johnny's out late working, as usual. you've had enough of waiting and decide to bait him into coming home early

warnings: PHONE SEX TEEHEE

notes: do you guys also like genuinely tweak out wishing he was real? he's so perfect? peak malewife? wishing u were [REDACTED] his [REDACTED] rn?

masterlist

• you were often left to your own devices when it came to living with johnny. he, after all, was a star constantly running around on new projects. any studio would be at his knees for just one contract. he was hollywood's richest man, and you were lucky to call him your boyfriend.

• sure, it had it's moments. the paps stealing upskirt shots from you wasn't ideal, neither was the bush stalking. but you could see past that. what was hardest was when johnny would be gone all through the night, dressed in that stupid ninja mime getup that you learned to loathe since it pulled him away more than his other works. does the world really need a ninja mime trilogy? yes, apparently.

• boredom overtook you, since browsing on your phone for eight hours was now becoming a horrible habit on your neck - and mental stability. you took to mopping the floors, tidying the countertops, dusting his awards. finally, you settled on your walk-in closet.

• it was spacious, big enough for you to each get a side. your side was always decently organized to your liking, but johnny's was... atrocious. jackets hung on one sleeve, some on the floor. the only thing that was neatly organized on his side was the giant rack of sunglasses. he always had a pair to match the outfit and occasion. he probably had about three pairs on him at work.

• as you tried to rearrange his clothing, his distinct, classy scent filled your nose, sticking to the inside of your nose and you couldn't help but feel heated. you missed him, him and his dick. you took a deep whiff of his iconic blue and purple jacket, the one he left at home knowing he'd have to get in costume anyway.

• you threw it over yourself, embracing your torso and spinning in the mirror. it fit him perfectly, but on you it was like a blanket. the sleeves sagged off of your arms and your midsection was swimming. his size was impressive, his form shaped like a greek god.

• you couldn't help yourself, the memories of him and scent turned you on. blame pheromones, dammit! but, you realized you could take advantage of this.

• throwing your shirt off, you donned the jacket again, wearing it like he does - chest exposed. a purple pair of sunglasses practically screamed your name from the rack and you put them on. you looked just like him...! no, not really.

• touching yourself in his clothes was not a new idea, but there certainly was a new idea blossoming in your head. you pulled your phone out and snapped a mirror selfie, trying to flex like he does but your muscles were muffled from the loose fabric.

• how's this for the next cagecon? you text johnny, attaching the photo. you didn't expect him to reply right away, considering he was at work. but before you could lock your phone for the moment, his name popped up within milliseconds.

• don't take me away from work, baby! johnny replies with a winking emoji.

• what if i want to? it's so lonely in your mansion, you reply with an angel emoji, sitting on the edge of your shared bed as you fight a grin. you angle the phone downward, capturing your bare chest. your nipples brush against the jacket, making them stick out through the front. johnny takes a moment to reply, but you feel your phone vibrate once, then twice, then three times.

• fuck, you're so hot in my clothes.

• i'm taking my break early. can't work with a boner.

• the third message was a short video of him palming himself through that stupid costume. the only thing you can thank that outfit for is how prominent it makes his bulge.

• phone sex through texts was also nothing new to you two, considering the distance. as your fingers sink under your panties, assuming that's where things will go before you get a fourth message.

• call me. please.

• you sit up straight, biting your lip. his desperation always got you going. you kicked your pants and panties aside.

• you send one last photo, your body spread out on the bed in his clothes. your hand conceals your dripping pussy playfully.

• why should i? you shoot the message out, giggling at your own words.

• johnny doesn't even reply, he opens your message and calls you. you eagerly accept his call. his voice is echoey and rough. you realize he's hiding in the bathroom. his breathing is heavy.

• "are you proud of yourself?" he asks in a low rumble, trying to stay quiet but his flustered huffing makes his voice whiny. "look at what you did."

• he sends a photo. his cock is eager and out, and you see a teardrop of precum on his tip. you happily exchange that photo for another one, a short video of you gingerly touching yourself. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

• "i couldn't wait til i'd get home," he admits, and you hear the slick sounds of him jerking off. "i want to, i want to come home and fuck you like that, but i'm here for another two hours."

• "you couldn't have waited?" you ask in disbelief, circling small loops on your aching clit.

• "no." johnny's reply sounded so sure of himself, so convinced in his words. he was as firm as he would've been if you asked him if he killed someone. he knew this to be a fact, he could not wait. "i can't help it, sweetheart. you're just so... god."

• his breaths get heavier and needier, you can sense he's speeding up on himself. you try to match what you assume is his pace, one that he confirms through another video. he held the phone below his dick, giving you a delicious view of his abs and bobbing adam's apple as he swallowed hungrily.

• his arms were painted white, but his hands were his usual flesh tone since he wore gloves for the costume. even still, his veins were incredibly prominent and really helping you reach your climax.

• "we gotta make this quick, baby," he grumbles into the phone, muffling his moans through bitten lips. you're a little louder due to your privacy, much to his delight. "people'll start looking for me."

• "johnny," you whimper out, back arching up off of the bed. "i'm already close." through your haze, you get a video of you masturbating wildly, the jacket now sliding down to your sides and fully revealing your tits as you fuck yourself. "i-i need you, i need you so bad-"

• "i know, baby," he breathlessly replies, straining himself to avoid moaning out your name and attracting attention. "let me hear how badly you need me."

• you could only spew out utter nonsense at this point as your orgasm is dangerously close. he seems to get the memo, though, and gives you permission to cum with him. your needy cries and his muffled grunts make a perfect chorus that you only wish were in person.

• when your breathing slows, as does his, you hear him chuckle to himself. a new message appears in your chat.

• his weeping dick was cradled in his palm, as was a entire handful of semen dripping down his fingers. he wanted to show you just how hard you made him cum from phone sex alone.

• "round one was now," he mumbles as you hear him tear a piece of toilet paper to wipe his hand. "round two is when i get home. you gonna be ready for it, princess?"

• the phone rests on your bare, damp chest as you fixate on the ceiling. you take the sunglasses off and wipe your face with a smile.

• "i'm always ready," you reply with a giggle.

• "that's my girl. see you in two hours. i love you." and with that, he hangs up, leaving you a naked, sweaty mess that's only concealed in his jacket.

[darkpetal16]

So we've got mafiafell wingding and papyrus headcanons, but what about mafiafell sans? Even a crumb would be very appreciated

Oh man. I put these HC undercut for 1.) T/W for toxic relationship and 2.) Spoilers for one of his bad endings in the game.

Mafiafell!Sans is a hot mess and puts the yan in yandere.

Ooooo boy. He’s a walking, talking red flag.

He’s a Judge: a monster born with the Judgment ability. His magic is toxic to anyone with EXP or LVL (including himself, although he has built up resistance) and he can see the truth of anyone’s SOUL.

His ability awakened at a young age in an unexpected outburst that resulted in the death of one of Asgore’s Royal Guards. By consequence, in order to avoid execution, he had to become the newest Judge.

He, essentially, became a glorified hitman for the Dreemur family at a young age, with the added bonus of each of his kills causing magic whiplash and damaging himself in the process.

He’s seen a lot of awful things, and done a lot worse things.

It. . . Doesn’t sit well with him.

He never wanted to take a life. He never wanted to hurt anyone.

But he had that choice taken away from him, and now he’s in too deep. The EXP, in conjunction with his Judgment ability, has warped him in a deeply disturbing way.

He’s volatile, violent, and viscous. And bitter. So, very, very bitter.

He’s got a short temper, but how he acts on it depends on the severity of his rage. For “smaller” issues, it’s an instantaneous reaction of violence. For the big issues, it’s something he’ll stew over and take his time to seek retribution. Basically: If he gets loud fast, the person will probably make it out alive. If he gets quiet though? They’re dead. And they’re not dying easily.

His volatility is a big reason why he always has Papyrus or Wingding nearby for important events.

This does mean that early in the relationship, when none of them know how well he can control himself around you, all of your dates will be secretly chaperoned by either Wings or Pap. You’ll likely never see them, but they’re there for your (physical) wellbeing and Sans’ (mental) wellbeing.

After a lifetime of absolute garbage thrown his way, you are a desperately needed breath of fresh air. He was drowning in misery and you’re the lifeline thrown to him. He will latch on with a zealous fervor.

Any bit of happiness and affection you give him, he’ll greedily devour. The more you give, the more he’ll come to need you until he literally will not tolerate you out of his life.

So do not commit, do not engage, do not give this man any type of hope for a relationship unless you’re ready for that level of emotional dependency. Breaking it off once it’s too late won’t end well for either of you. Because he’s type who can love a doll as much as the real deal.

But if that’s your thing too? If this is what you need too. . . ?

He’s your guy. Loyal. Ferociously loyal. Would fight an army for you. Would go to war for you. Would break any law for you. He supports your wrongs and your rights equally, as long as he gets to be by your side in the process.

He didn’t have money growing up (all money earned had to go into paying back his “debt” to the Dreemur family), so now that he has it he likes to spend it. Especially on loved ones (you & his brothers). Shopping trips are a bi weekly thing, and they always end in a fancy dinner date.

He wants to travel the world, and he’ll gleefully take you with him. He wants to visit a place that’s always dark, and someplace where the sun never sets. He wants to see the auroras, and an endless sea of sand.

He’s always wanted to go to school to learn. Always wanted to learn physics, mechanical engineering, and astronomy. Never could, and he thinks it’s too late now. He’ll always brush it off if you try to encourage him.

But if you take him to college lectures on the stuff, he’s like a kid in a candy shop. You’ll see a glimpse of what he was like before he became a Judge; a childlike level of sincere happiness, and a small smile on his face.

Dates are extravagant. He knows he’s fucked in the head so he’s hoping to keep your attention by impressing you. Maybe if you’re wowed enough you’ll forgive his cracks.

Speaking of cracks, he’s got the most broken bones in the family. Most of the time, Wings or Toriel can heal such injuries but ones caused by his Judge ability don’t heal.

If you ask about them he’ll give you increasingly crazier stories. Anything is better than the truth.

Speaking of stories, he loves to tell them and loves to listen. If you’d like to read, he would genuinely love it if you read him. It doesn’t matter the genre, he just enjoys them with a pure sincerity.

And if you want him to read to you? That’s fine by him. Although you’ll probably have to pick out the books… And forgive him when he stumbles on words. He didn’t have a proper education growing up. What he knows is what Wings has been able to teach him in their very limited free time. 

He can sing! Specifically lullabies, because that was the only thing that could sue Papyrus when he was a toddler. It’s not something he likes others to know, however, he’ll make the exception for you.

He can also cook. Very well. He learned along side Papyrus as something for the two of them to do together. He didn’t have a lot of free time and he didn’t want Papyrus to feel lonely, so he would learn how to cook with him. 

Very good at reading people. Even without his judge ability, he’s an expert at reading, micro expressions, understanding someone’s tone, and interpreting body language. His intuition is above reproach, even Asgore trusts it. 

He learned sign language when Wings lost his voice for a few months. Sans thought it would be come permanently so he stayed up late to learn it and be ready to teach it to Wings. Thankfully, Wings recovered so it’s been a rarely used skill.

Quality time is important to him. If you have something important in your life that you want him to attend, absolutely nothing will stop him from being there. 

Don’t try to get him jealous. Not only will your suitor be killed, but if he thinks you’re doing it on purpose, he won’t let it go. He won’t lay a hand on you. . . he doesn’t have to to discourage you from ever thinking about doing that again.

He’s a hot mess. There’s no getting around this. There is no therapy in his time, and the toxic masculinity expected of him will prevent him from ever admitting his emotional vulnerabilities in any way that matters.

He’ll be tender for you. He’ll be soft for you. He’ll be kinder around you. He won’t raise his voice. He won’t lay a hand on you. He’ll support your dreams, financially and emotionally. He’ll start with you if you want.

But that’s the extent of what he can do for now, and for a long times

And that’s the best he can do.

PLAY IF - MAFIAFELL HERE FOR HIS ROUTE

HC MASTERLIST HERE

[luhafraser]

🥱🥱🥱

I said in my "The Swift effect" post: "Back to Sam... It's been a long droughtlander... And in a short time we've had inflatable monkeys, pap walk with an escort, Taylor Swift... I can't wait for the next topic 🙄" I'm such a prophet 😜🤣

About blonde Lauren and brunette Lauren...

There are things made just for this fandom, and things that aren't. And, for sure, the pap wasn't for us. Sam and his PR team knew well that this would not please the majority "here" and that gay theory would gain more space in the discussions.

For us is what you're seeing now, Anon...Sam follows an account (June 5th), which takes a certain blogger here exposing the identity of blonde Lauren (June 6th) and an old story is recycled! Bringing balance to what is discussed here... Not to mention how much people here love to debunk P, and the quarrel between "the queens of Antiland".

You know...

1) IF the story with blonde Lauren is real, IF they dated, why follow an account that would only reveal her identity NOW? How convenient... Perfect timing, right?! 😜🤣 (IF they dated doing this now, without any other intention would make Sam a bastard... For me, it's so much worse than the guy who pays for an escort... ) 2) IF he dated blonde Lauren, why can't/couldn't he date Sarah? There's nothing different about these stories. What differs? Just what everyone here wants to believe... He knows this well.

(He could lead us to the identity of the Nobu girl too... How about that, Sam? 😜🤣).

And... How funny is that pineapple thing? It was once a shipper thing and now it is used by the other side...

Nothing is done with much effort for us...

Not even Starz can bring us good content during the never-ending droughtlander. It's amazing how they take us for idiots. This fandom deserved better from Starz and the Outlander cast. But what do they give us since the beginning? This repetitive shit show.

[goodbuckcharlie]

Dirt and oil - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn would like to consider himself a gentleman, raised by THE Ellen and all, but when he finds himself in need one the side of the road, he can’t help but be surprised when his Knight in shining armor is a 5’2 girl named Daisy

Note: just a short one today, this was also written fast as I spent my morning at the hospital waiting on my grandma to be okay. She fine now but this helped me not lose my mind. So please give this short fix some love and maybe when everything is better I’ll make a cute part two.

“Shit this is not happening right now.” All Quinn wanted was to go to the grocery store in peace, but of course his front left tire was flat. Now his father has taught him many lessons in life, but changing a tire was not one of them.

As the blinking lights of his hazards went off, Quinn sat on his phone hoping to find a YouTube tutorial on how to change a tire. He was way too embarrassed to call one of his teammates for help. About 15 minutes later, Quinn had learned absolutely nothing off the internet and was currently debating on calling a tow truck.

That was until a school bus yellow jeep pulled up right behind him on the side of the road. Quinn expected another man to exit the vehicle, but to his surprise a short woman with black curly hair and more tattoos than he can count exits the front seat.

“Hey there big guy looks like you can use some help?” The girl walks over to Quinn with her tool box in hand, “my name’s Daisy and I think I can be of assistance, so tell me what’s your problem?”

“Oh I just got a flat tire,” Quickly Quinn turns off his phone and faces the girl next to him, “I don’t want to inconvenience you so I’ll just call the tow truck company.”

“It’s seriously no biggie,” Her button nose cringes from the cold breeze, but her perfect customer service smile doesn’t falter, “I was just heading in to work.”

“Oh then I would hate you to get in trouble with your boss,” Daisy giggles at Quinn comment. The boy nearly lost his mind at the juxtaposition of her soft giggle and her tough outward appearance.

“Oh I doubt my boss would mind, but let me make sure,” Daisy looks into Quinn’s driver side mirror, “Hey Daisy is it okay if I’m late to work cause I’m helping this poor boy is distress? She said it’s fine as long as the poor boy in distress tells me his name, you know for insurance reasons.”

“I totally forgot, I’m Quinn,” Daisy holds out her hand as Quinn introduces himself.

“Well Quinn, let’s change that tire for yah,” Daisy directs Quinn out of his car, and he opts to stand to the side of her as she worked on his tire.

“So if you don’t mind me asking, how did you get into working on cars?” Quinn attempts to make small talk.

“My paps owned the shop up the street and since he was a single parent, I had to spend a lot of time at the shop,” Daisy works on the tire with ease, “I learned how to change a car tire before I could even drive.”

“Woah I’m impressed,” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized how bad that sounded, “I mean I’m not impressed that you can do it, I mean I’m impressed that you learned from a young age.”

“It was just another life skill you know,” Not moving her attention from the tire, Daisy continues the conversation with Quinn, “just like learning how to ride a bike. When you grow up around cars, it’s second nature.”

“You know I understand that,” For some reason, Quinn feels comfortable around Daisy, and he can feel himself opening up to her, “I love what I do and all so I have no complaints, but Hockey has become second nature to me since I grew up around it.”

“Hockey huh?” For a moment, Daisy looks towards Quinn, and he can’t put his finger on it, but something about the tiny spot of grease on her face causes him to admire her more, “You look to delicate to play such a violent sport.”

“Looks can be very deceiving,” The two share a laugh before Daisy goes back to working on the car. They make some more small talk until the car is done.

“That spare should hold you for a little, but I recommend stopping by the shop so we can get you a fresh set.” Daisy pats the side of the car like a dad would.

“Thank you so much,” Daisy just shakes her head insisting it was no problem, “Well tell your boss I’m thankful that she let you come to work late to help little ol’ me and if there’s anything I can do to show my appreciation just let me know.”

“Well you didn’t hear this from me, but the boss loves the coffee shop next to the shop,” She walks over to her own car while walking away from Quinn, but before entering she shouts over to him, “maybe when you get your new tires you can ask her to a coffee date?”

Before Quinn could respond, Daisy is already back in her car setting off back onto the road. When Quinn got back into his car he notices a business car on the front seat.

Reynolds’ Autobody shop

7am-5pm Monday through Friday

He flips the card over and a smile is brought to his face.

Daisy Mae Reynolds

(xxx)xxx-xxxx Call me hockey boy

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

…the colossal screw up of Archie's birth announcement

I was not following the royals back then, so I am completely out of the loop with what was happening when Archie was born. There’s so much noise and theories littering this space, that it’s hard to delineate what is actually the screw up and where the theories start and how far plausible goes before it turns into crazy. Do you have a record or write-up you can point me to?

Totally okay if you want to just ignore this ask, though. I know this topic invites unhelpful inputs from people.

Hey, everyone, it's Wednesday! Guess what that means...yup, a super long research project to the dulcet sounds of Top Chef.

I think I'll just give you the whole timeline and then some since there's a lot of debate and discussion around both things.

The Pregnancy

October 12, 2018: Princess Eugenie marries Jack Brooksbanks. Meghan wears a dark navy dress and coat. Only the top buttons of her coat are done, causing immediate speculation that she's expecting.

October 15, 2018: Kensington Palace announces that Harry and Meghan are expecting and the baby is due in the springtime. The royal rota is informed by Jason Knauf over a cell phone in the airport, as they were already in Australia to begin coverage of the Sussexes' tour.

Now, usually when the palace makes these kind of announcements, there's a separate briefing for the royal rota with a few additional details for them to write about. In Rebecca English's article about the pregnancy announcement, she reveals that Meghan had had her 12-week scan, the baby is due in late April 2019, and that they were telling everyone at Eugenie's wedding. The article also reveals that Meghan will visit Tonga and Fiji despite the Zika risk (pregnant women are advised not to travel to areas with the Zika virus due to the risk Zika poses to their baby); it's a controversial decision.

October 15, 2018: Harry and Meghan are papped arriving in Sydney, leaving the airport. Meghan is holding two purple binders, leading to speculation that they are expecting boy-girl twins.

Pippa Middleton gives birth to her first child on October 15th (though it isn't announced for a bit), stealing some of the Sussexes' coverage.

October 15 - 31, 2018: Harry and Meghan are in Australia for the Sydney Invictus Games. They also tour New Zealand, Tonga, and Fiji. There is a ton of gossip and tea about the tour. Meghan is also photographed with a very inconsistent baby belly - sometimes it's there, sometimes it's not.

Also during this time (and into November) is the Sussex press tsunami when these stories were breaking:

"What Meghan wants, Meghan gets"

Meghan smells tastes eggs that aren't there

Meghan made Kate cry

Sussexes are moving out of Kensington Palace

The Sussexes' office is moving to Buckingham Palace; they'll be part of the resource pool that also represents Anne, Yorkies, Edward, Sophie, Kents, and Gloucesters.

Sussexes are leaving The Royal Foundation and setting up The SussexRoyal Foundation.

November 24, 2018: The palace announces that Harry and Meghan are moving to Frogmore Cottage. They will renovate the property from five staff apartments to ten bedrooms, a nursery, a gym, and a yoga studio.

December 18, 2018: Meghan makes a surprise appearance at the British Fashion Awards to recognize Clare Waight Keller (her wedding dress designer) as the British Womenswear Designer of the Year. Allegedly she crashed the event unexpectedly. She is photographed groping her belly the whole time while on stage presenting.

December 25, 2018: During the Christmas walkabout after church, Meghan tells fans that she is "nearly there". It causes confusion because the palace had briefed reporters two months earlier that it was an April baby.

**Anon, this Christmas walk where Meghan says "nearly there" re the baby's due date is where it starts veering off the rails.**

January 14, 2019: Meghan, with Harry, visits Birkenhead for an away day. At the end of the visit when they are leaving, Meghan is observed by some to have lost her belly while developing a new bulge around her mid/lower thighs. (YMMV.)

January 16, 2019: Meghan visits the Mayhew Animal House during the day, in which some people claim to observe her belly folding in and then popping out and others claim to hear a loud popping noise when she stands up. (YMMV.) Later, in the evening, she attends a Cirque du Soleil performance at Royal Albert Hall. This is the night that, as she tells Oprah in March 2021, she felt suicidal and had been crying all day up until just before arriving at the Hall.

February 15 - 20, 2019: Meghan is in New York City to attend a baby shower thrown in her honor by Serena Williams. She stays at the Mark Hotel. Abigail Spencer merches Away luggage. Jess Mulroney and Amal Clooney are some of the guests. Markus Anderson unexpectedly shows up and allegedly, Meghan is upset to see him. There's a ton of paparazzi, which Meghan loves, and the Mark Hotel ropes off the sidewalk for her, which she also loves.

There is a CDAN blind about the baby shower, alleging that Meghan had asked (maybe demanded) the BRF for one but they refused because it's not what they do.

The baby shower causes a lot of questions. There's one instance where Meghan returns from a night out holding a large purse over her stomach area, which is unusual because in every photo since October, Meghan is always showing off her belly.

Meghan leaves NYC by a private jet via Teterboro Airport, assumed to be Amal Clooney's private jet.

This is the end of the Meghan/Amal friendship, as on March 15, 2019, Clarence House announces a partnership between Prince Charles and Amal Clooney establishing the Amal Clooney Award from Prince's Trust International.

February 23 - 25, 2019: Harry and Meghan are in Morocco for an official visit by request of the Foreign Office.

There's speculation that Meghan was planning to attend the Oscars (which are held on February 24, 2019) and allegedly, the BRF caught wind of it and created the Morocco tour to keep her focused on royal work.

Edited to add: After checking my spreadsheet, I realized I missed one - related to speculation/gossip about Meghan attending the Oscars, there’s additional speculation that the BRF planned the Morocco trip to force Meghan to come home from NYC. (I kind of suspect this may be the origin of “they took my passport” claims as told to Oprah because supposedly the palace was upset she had the baby shower and upset she’d gone out of the country to do so.)

March 5, 2019: When Harry and Meghan crash Charles's celebration of the 50th anniversary of his Prince of Wales investiture, Meghan tells people she is "nearly there" still, according to Us Weekly. Us Weekly also reports that a Sussex source had briefed them that the baby was due in the late March/early April timeframe.

March 14, 2019: Commonwealth Day Service. Kensington Palace indirectly confirms that this is Meghan's last appearance before the baby arrives and she is beginning maternity leave.

March 19, 2019: Meghan suspends her maternity leave to visit the New Zealand embassy with Harry to lay flowers in a tribute to victims of a mosque shooting. Meghan, who is photographed cradling her belly, is also photographed squatting down with knees and feet together, causing questions as some observe that it looks like her belly has completely disappeared.

April 2, 2019: Meghan, with Harry, is papped visiting an apothecary shop.

April 4, 2019: Harry and Meghan are confirmed to have moved into Frogmore Cottage.

The Birth

Note: All items italicized and in red are timings we learned after the fact. Items in "regular" font (not italicized and black) is the timing that happened live on May 6.

May 5, 2019, late in the evening: Meghan and Doria are driven to the Portland Hospital.

May 6, 2019, 5:26am GMT: Meghan gives birth after two epidurals According to Harry in Spare, it was a traumatic birth, potentially complicated, but an emergency c-section was not discussed with Meghan as Harry declined to tell her what was going on. Also, Harry gets high on laughing gas and the nurse disapprove.

May 6, 2019, 7:26am GMT: Harry, Meghan, and Baby Boy Sussex are home from the hospital (from Spare).

May 6, 2019, 1:30pm GMT: Sky News is selected as the pool broadcaster for the birth announcement when a Sussex spokesperson (probably Sara Latham) reaches out to Sky News to coordinate coverage for a statement Harry will make soon.

May 6, 2019, 1:50pm GMT: The palace announces Meghan has gone into labor and is at the hospital. Sky News has the exclusive story owing to the earlier conversation with Sussex representatives.

May 6, 2019, 2:15pm GMT: Harry records his statement about the baby's birth from a stable in Windsor. He speaks about the baby being born early in the morning. Horses make an appearance.

May 6, 2019, 2:37pm GMT: Harry and Meghan announce the birth of Baby Boy Sussex. The palace follows up with more details, including that the baby was born at 5:26am.

The palace's announcement raises questions, as the language used to describe the birth is different from the language used on all the other royal birth announcements.

The traditional birth announcement: {Title} has been safely delivered of a {son or daughter} at {time} today. Her Royal Highness and her child are both doing well. {signatures of medical staff} {date}

This language has been used for the Cambridges (George, Charlotte, and Louis), the Waleses (William and Harry), the Yorks (Beatrice and Eugenie), the Phillipses (Peter and Zara), the Edinburghs (Charles, Anne, Andrew, and Edward), the Brooksbanks (August and Ernie), and the Wessexes (Louise and James).

The Sussexes' birth announcement: The Queen and the Royal Family are delighted at the news that Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Sussex was safely delivered of a son at 0526am today. Her Royal Highness and her child are both doing well. 06 May, 2019.

Immediately causing questions was the verb choice "was" (versus "has been"). From a grammar perspective, "was" is used to describe something that had already happened at a specific point in the past. "Has been" is a verb tense used to talk about an ongoing event - something that started in the past but is still happening. Looking at the language in the birth announcements, and examining it through the grammar only:

When George's birth was announced, Kate was still in the birthing process but it was a safe delivery. Which makes sense; birth doesn't end when the baby pops out - there's afterbirth, there's the hormone evacuation (for lack of a better word), there's the organs moving back into place, etc. She's still in the hospital receving care.

When Archie's birth was announced, Meghan had already completed giving birth. She was no longer in the hospital, already at home.

Causing even bigger questions was the missing medical staff.

Reporters immediately begin asking questions about the timing of the announcements, where the baby was born, who delivered the baby, and why everyone was told she was in labor when she had already given birth.

May 6, 2019, 2:40pm GMT: Harry's pre-recorded statement with Sky News is broadcast. When he begins speaking, the chyron says "Meghan is in labor." After he announces the baby's birth "early this morning," the chyron changes to "Meghan has given birth."

May 7, 2019, 12:28pm GMT: Palace officials apologize for the bungled birth announcement but there are no explanations or clarifications made.

May 8, 2019: Harry and Meghan announce the baby's name, Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor. They have a photocall with the baby in St. George's Hall, Windsor Castle, in which Harry says the infamous quote "babies change so much in two weeks." Later, they take photos with The Queen, Prince Philip, and Doria.

The photocall and the photos aren't without controversy. Royal-watchers and Windsor locals pinpoint two: May 8th is actually a very wet and overcast day in Windsor, so how did they get sunlight streaming in through the windows? And second (admittedly this one I don't understand), there's a question about either The Queen's clothes or the timing of the photo - she's supposed to be at the Royal Windsor Horse Show? Something to do with horses? - that people are confused by.

May 9, 2024: Harry goes to The Hague for Invictus Games 2020 kickoff events. (It has echoes of Charles leaving Diana just hours after Harry is born to go play polo.)

Afterwards

May 12, 2019: Mother's Day in the US. The Sussexes post a picture of Meghan holding Archie's feet in a field of forget-me-nots.

May 17, 2019: Archie's birth certificate is released. Harry doesn't have the right title.

June 6, 2019: Archie's birth certificate is updated to correct Harry's title and change Meghan's name from Rachel Meghan Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Sussex to Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Sussex.

June 8, 2019: Trooping the Colors. Meghan pauses her maternity leave to attend. She and Harry ride in a carriage with Kate and Camilla. Six things happen that everyone notices:

Meghan stares down Kate many times throughout the carriage procession.

When the royals are coming out onto the balcony for the flypast, Kate - carrying Louis (in his balcony debut) - walks out towards the right side of the balcony, by Andrew, while William veers to the left. William calls to Kate and she turns to join him, George, and Charlotte on the left side of the balcony. Harry and Meghan later come out on the right side, near to where the Cambridges would have been.

The Queen comes out onto the balcony and Meghan sees an opening to move in next to her, but then Andrew suddenly moves in, blocking Meghan. Anne moves in next to Andrew behind The Queen, effectively blocking the Sussexes from moving in.

When Meghan turns to speak to Harry, he sternly tells her to turn around. This happens twice. The second time, Meghan does an awkward shuffle to turn around and she starts rapidly blinking her eyes and clenching her jaw.

When The Queen is leaving the balcony after the flypast, Harry and Meghan bow/curtsy, suggesting that they were late arriving to Buckingham Palace before the parade to have properly greeted The Queen.

Meghan tries to speak to George as he passes by and he throws up a 'talk to the hand'-esque wave at her.

Allegedly, Harry and Meghan were set to have their own carriage at Trooping (as they did in 2019) but the BRF had concerns they would be booed and were thrown in with Kate and Camilla at the last minute. Allegedly, Harry didn't like this because he knew it was a demotion to go from their own carriage to riding backwards in someone else's carriage; when there's a group riding together, protocol requires the senior royals to face forward with junior royals facing backwards.

Also Meghan talks to herself.

I can't find a good video of the balcony so if anyone has one, please share!

June 17, 2019: Father's Day. The Sussexes post a new photo of Harry holding baby Archie. Harry is flipping everyone off and Archie's face is partially obscured.

June 27, 2019: SussexRoyal Instagram announces that the Sussexes will travel to South Africa in autumn. They indirectly announce that Archie will join them.

July 6, 2019: Archie's christening at Windsor Castle. Harry and Meghan decline to announce who his godparents are, citing privacy. The portraits are the first time we see Archie's face in full. They raise questions. Some people observe that the perspective/scale of William and Kate is off from the rest of the group. Others observe that Kate's chair is missing a leg. Others observe that the reflections behind the Spencer sisters and Doria are off.

Ahead of the christening service, William and Kate are papped driving into Windsor Castle. In the pap photo, both are wearing blue; Kate a blue dress or sweater and William a light blue casual shirt but in the released portraits, William is wearing a starched white shirt and Kate a pink outfit. There's some discussion that they changed at Windsor before the service but there's also something wonky going on with the metadata in the photos.

July 10, 2019: William and Harry play polo for charity. Kate, the kids, and Meghan attend. Meghan brings Archie. The lack of interaction between Kate and Meghan gets noticed quickly, as does Meghan seeming not to know what to do with Archie: she holds him for the whole outing, he seems poorly dressed (no hat or sun covering), and he doesn't move/Meghan doesn't change his position.

Allegedly, Meghan wasn't supposed to go to the polo match. Supposedly she had heard that Chelsy was there and hightailed it over with Archie to keep her man in line. (Yuck, I felt gross just writing that.)

July 14, 2019: Meghan breaks maternity leave again to attend the European premiere of The Lion King: Live-Action edition in London with Harry, who cancelled an event with the Royal Marines for this. Harry is caught on a hot mike pitching Bob Isner (Disney's CEO) about Meghan doing a voiceover.

July 26, 2019: According to The Sun, Harry and Meghan's neighbors in Windsor have been sent rules for interacting with the royals that include don't approaching the couple, speak only when spoken to, don't pet the dogs, and don't ask about the baby. Buckingham Palace denies that Harry and Meghan knew this was happening.

July 28, 2019: Meghan breaks her maternity leave again to guest-edit British Vogue's September 2019 edition, Forces for Change. There's controversy:

Allegedly Meghan was asked by the BRF if she was doing this and she kept telling them no.

Harry interviewed Jane Goodall for the edition, in which he made a comment that he and Meghan were only having two children for the environment. (The Sussexes eventually get some kind of award for this.)

Meghan interviews Michelle Obama over a lunch of fish tacos. It turns out that the interview was conducted over email.

Accusations of plagiarism, as an Australian magazine already did this something like this with a very similar front cover layout.

Also, just because: Inside Meghan Markle's disastrous attempt to edit Vogue magazine - new book 'Meghan, Harry and the war between the Windsors.'

And throughout July and August, Harry and Meghan are getting flack for racking up private air miles despite being environmentalists. They do four back-to-back private flights across Europe with Archie. On one of these trips, they meet David Sherborne, Elton John's lawyer and off to the lawsuit races we go.

The Queen invites them to Balmoral to join the family but the Sussexes decline, allegedly because Archie was too young to fly. (Mm-hmm, and then they take him on four flights to Europe.)

September 6, 2019: The Sussexes' itinerary for their Africa tour is released. As part of the tour, Harry will visit Angola and copy Diana's famous de-mining walk.

September 12, 2019: Meghan's maternity leave ends with an announcement introducing Smart Set, a capsule collection from her friends that benefit Smart Works. Meghan gives a speech that ends awkwardly when she says she needs to leave because it's "feed time."

September 23 - October 2, 2019: Harry, Meghan, and Archie travel to South Africa, Malawi, Angola, and Botswana. Meghan tries to merch Archie's clothes from H&M but it gets shut down pretty quickly. Archie's first official engagement is to meet Archbishop Desmond Tutu, which SussexRoyal cringely calls 'Arch, meet Arch.' Meghan gives her infamous "no one asked me if I'm okay" interview in which she discusses her post-partum challenges as a "young mom" and her mental health distress. Harry gets in a tiff with one of the royal reporters, snapping at her "you know what you did" when she tries to ask a clarifying question.

Princess Beatrice announces her engagement on September 26th and it steals some of the Sussexes' coverage.

And after the tour (or on the last day of the tour? I don't remember and it's late), Harry announces that he's suing the British press and it is chaos.

November 7, 2019: Harry and Meghan attend the opening of the Field of Remembrance ceremony at Westminster Abbey. Camilla was supposed to join, but backed out at the last minute citing a cold. When Meghan is pictured in overly glamorous hair and makeup for the event, speculation begins that they are recording the work for a documentary and that Camilla pulled out to avoid being in the footage.

November 9, 2019: The royal family attends the Festival of Remembrance at Royal Albert Hall. Harry and Meghan are shoved into the back row behind a pillar, barely visible on camera. (It's a demotion, because in 2018 they were seated behind Camilla.)

November 10, 2019: Remembrance Day/Sunday. The Queen, Camilla, and Kate watch from the center balcony. Meghan watches from a side balcony between Sophie and Tim. She holds her composure at being excluded from the 'main' balcony better this year than last year (in 2018, she kept stealing weepy or vengeful looks (YMMV) at the center balcony while she was sidelined with the wife of the President of Germany) but she still clenches her jaw.

This is Meghan's final entry in the Court Circular (ever).

December 20, 2019: The Sussexes announce they will spend the Christmas and New Year's holidays privately in Canada.

November 17, 2019: Harry's last entry in the Court Circular before Megxit, suggesting he and Meghan peaced out to Canada shortly after this (I'm too lazy to look up if there were any papwalks or other private engagements - another day, maybe). His final events are January 16, 2020 (a rugby thing); Philip's funeral; the service of thanksgiving for the Platinum Jubilee; and The Queen's Funeral.

And if you made it this far: congratulations! My asks are back open.