#I'm so sorry this is so long and pointless

[anamericangirl]

This was very sad for me to read and I completely empathize with how you are feeling - especially because the situation you are in I was in not too long ago. In my thirties, was having to live with my parents, and single. And I know first hand how hard and depressing that kind of situation is and was at a point where it looked like I would never get out of it and just wanted to give up because my life felt meaningless and no matter how hard I tried nothing about my circumstances would ever change - but I was wrong. Those feelings I had and had convinced myself were accurate were all false and they were temporary even though at the time it did not feel temporary.

Now, everything about my circumstances hasn't changed. I'm still in my thirties and still single but I'm in a much better place mentally and spiritually and those things don't matter to me or bring me down. I'm not upset about being single and I'll even be ok if I'm single forever because I know my worth as a human being isn't tied to my relationship status or age and that's true for you too. Your value as a person isn't tied to your relationship status, age, or where you live or who you live with. I know it's depressing when it's not where you want to be, but it's not indicative of a life that's not worth living. And honestly, these feelings that you are having and are projecting onto your circumstances are internal issues that aren't going to be fixed by finding a partner or moving out of your parents house. I know it can feel like that's all you need to be happy but those aren't the source of your troubles and they won't be the solutions. Even when my circumstances started to change for the better the depression didn't go away because my circumstances weren't actually the source of my depression. I had to mentally and spiritually reset myself.

I'm so sorry that's the impression you've been getting from the Christian crowd, but it's a completely inaccurate and unbiblical perspective. While kids are wonderful and a source of joy and become the most important of part of a person's life if they are blessed with children, your life can be just as important and fulfilling and valuable without children. Children are great but not everyone is called to have children and anyone who pressures a person and makes them feel like shit for being single and childless is a jerk. Which is why when I mention Christianity and God I don't recommend seeking out Christians, I recommend seeking out God.

Casting your cares and anxieties on God and seeking comfort through his word and putting your trust and faith in him is where the healing comes from. That is the main thing that got me through my depression. God is the worthwhile thing to live for. He gives your life purpose and meaning and created you specially and intentionally. God created you because he thought the world needed you and he's not done with you yet.

Not killing yourself is not cowardice - it is strength. I can tell you don't want to die, you just are at a loss because you don't see an end to your situation but I promise you there is one and it takes strength and resilience to push through the periods of life where it all feels pointless and hopeless and that's what you are doing!

No one is lying about grieving their loved ones. You are putting too much worth on being married and having kids and that's not the solution to your problems. Being married or whatever doesn't take away the love people have for the others in their life. Doing fine in life doesn't mean you won't grieve the loss of a loved one. I lost a family member to suicide years ago and I will never stop grieving him no matter how my circumstances change in the future - for better or for worse.

Your self worth doesn't come from your circumstances, the circumstances of the other people in your life, or the opinions of other people and you will always be disappointed as long as you are looking there for value.

I know I'm just a stranger on the internet and this all will probably mean nothing to you but I truly hope something resonates with you at least a little bit. You can talk or vent to me anytime and I will be praying for you every day <3

What’s a good reason to not take my own life? I’ve been feeling this way for years. Been to multiple treatment programs. Seen by several different therapists. Anti-depressants. I frequently go outdoors to exercise. Try to fill up my life with being optimistic about my (admittedly nice) job, hobbies, travel, and volunteering. And yet I’m still no better than I was 5 years ago and I have no hope about a happy future. “Your family will miss you.” Ok, and? I think it’s selfish to tell people in pain to continue living like that because some people might temporarily feel sad. They’ll eventually move on. My friends too, especially the ones who are happily married “to their best friends” and having babies and are so happy that they forget I exist.

Hey anon I hope I am not too late! I am just getting out of a hurricane and was without internet access for several days so i apologize for the delay.

But there are so many reasons not to take your own life. In fact, I can’t think of a single reason why you should.

I know it’s tough right now and trust me, I know that depression makes it all feel pointless and worthless and can plague you for years but even though if feels like forever I promise you these feelings and this depression and your circumstances are TEMPORARY. And it would be a tragedy for you to take your life over temporary circumstances and not see what is possible on the other side.

Yes your family and friends will miss you but you should stay because your life has purpose and meaning! Therapy and anti-depressants are good and I’m glad you’ve been trying those things because that means you don’t actually want to die - you just want the pain to stop. And that’s completely understandable and also manageable!

It’s great that you’ve been continuing to exercise and do volunteer work because those things can definitely impact your mood, but they aren’t the source of true joy, peace and happiness. Now I’m a Christian so I’m sure it won’t surprise you for me to say this, but what you are looking for and what you need can only come from God. I urge you to put your faith and trust in him and give him your burdens.

The devil has a hold on you right now, don’t let him win!

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” - Isaiah 41:10

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” - John 10:10

“Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.” - psalm 55:22

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all.” - psalm 34:18-19

But now that I’ve gone on my spiel, here are some reasons I think it’s good to keep living. Not all my original thoughts but ones i agree with.

1. You matter

2. No one else is you.

3. Your younger self

4. Your next favorite song.

5. Warm blankets.

6. Thunderstorms

7. The fact that you’re in control of your future.

8. Experiencing new cultures.

9. Making new friends.

10. Road trips.

11. Sunsets and sunrises.

12. Reading good books.

13. Learning a new language.

14. Adopting a pet.

15. Fresh baked bread and cookies.

16. Getting packages in the mail.

17. Autumn.

18. Pumpkin spice.

19. Drinking coffee in the morning.

20. Beaches and being able to sink your toes into the sand.

21. Stepping on crunchy leaves.

22. Recovery.

23. Falling in love.

24. Rain.

25. Petting puppies and kittens.

26. Drinking water.

27. Trying something new and loving it.

28. Your favorite artist putting out new music.

29. A new season on your favorite TV show.

30. Planting a garden and growing your own vegetables.

31. Farmers Markets.

32. Trying out the newest local coffee shop or restaurant.

33. Karaoke

34. All of the people you have yet to meet.

35. Horseback riding

36. Stars.

37. Ice cream.

38. Ice tea.

39. Scented candles.

40. Learning something new.

41. Museums.

42. Going to the movies.

43. Hearing your favorite song come on the radio.

44. Learning to make a new recipe.

45. Your life is precious.

46. You are enough.

47. Random acts of kindness.

48. God looked at the world and thought it needed you.

49. Your story could save someone else.

50. Looking back on this time in 10 years and realizing you made it.

There’s an endless amount of reasons to stay alive and I hope some of them resonate with you.

But if you are desperate please reach out to the suicide prevention hotline at 988. If you are outside the US then you can find the number for your location here.

Please know that I am praying for you and please reach out to me again if you want to. I would love to keep up with how you are doing 💜

[brick-van-dyke]

If there's one thing I've respectively noticed from Zionists and defenders of Israeli war crimes, it's that every source, argument and potential avenue to explore each explanation is riddled with cherry picking, moving the goalposts and mental gymnastics to explain why their conclusions, which typically are barely even related to the sources they use, somehow overshadow literal reality and what we see with our own eyes.

While scrolling, one example I came across was the repetitive misrepresentation of BLM, antifa and quotes from Martin Luther King Jr, as well as statistics, scholarly journal articles and government website information. These are all good sources, yet every single time they're mangled completely until the only possible "interpretation" of any of them is "well Israel is right to defend itself after shorting rockets beforehand because the retaliation was brutal and all Arabs are bad by default therefore". As if any of these sources are even about individual exceptions of Israel versus hatred towards Arabs.

I think what I find most absurd, as someone in the middle of their own studies, is how every bit of critical thinking and logic goes out the window as they do every single thing possible to do what professors worldwide say NOT to do when evaluating sources. It's like watching a race to see who can tangle and misconstrue scientific information to fit their world view the fastest. Then said people say "um actually I studied at university before so it's actually not wrong that I'm doing this exact this everyone is warned not to do because I have a permit". Ignorance I can forgive, but willful and arrogant manipulation? That's another thing entirely.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Okay so if the whole wedding debacle hadn’t happened (which I’m still mad at Bonnie for because we deserved a Kai redemption arc and to see him finally have a chance to see what family could really be like and we could’ve had it if she hadn’t sent Kai back to a prison world) this is what I’d like to imagine uncle Kai would be like with baby Lizzie and Josie

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRTUwT1C/

HOW did this ask escape for so long?? I'm so stale.

BUT YES, that is so much the relationship they'd have, I'm giggling!!

And same, I'm so bitter that we couldn't have a redemption arc. I feel like Kai wouldn't be bad with kids as long as he isn't competing against them for 1.) having importance to the family / coven, and 2.) literal survival. Someone who's the eldest of six other kids, I actually think would be quite good with them, given the chance. Ugh, I so wish they kept him around and we could have scenes like that. And Jo / Liv / Bonnie, etc. all terrified and waiting for him to lose patience / mess up, but every time, he proves them wrong. 😭

[kalkydra]

hard to not come off anti-intellectual sometimes when people on the internet hurt my brain damaged dropout feelings

[menstits]

fontaines archon quest is probably the first time in genshin that replaying it gives you a new context of how furina acts like its crazy...watching my oomf play when i finished and seeing furina almost on the verge on a breakdown even on the first acts when most people thought she was just the typical chuniibyou ojousama in charge...crazy.

YEAH like... god it's really crazy especially with furina's initial approach at trying to be the archon like... What could have been her own way of doing it if the crowd hadn't immediately shot down her attempt at being genuine . Like how different that was from the way she had to act for the following 500 years... Man.🧍‍♂️

[asterdeer]

video called "pirate shirt tutorial that actually makes sense" with a thumbnail clickbaitingly copying bernadette banner's style, which does the exact same thing as bernadette banner's video but more confusingly and without a diagram in the video itself, also failing to understand that bernadette banner's channel is primarily a history channel and not a sewing tutorial channel so telling people they don't have to hand-sew the pirate shirt or they don't have to thread-pull is unnecessary because bernadette banner literally said "do this however you want, i just do it this way because it's how i learn about historical dress practices" in her own video. couldn't ask for better youtube entertainment

[maedaeme]

OUGH ALRIGHT magni backstory ramble time under the cut. was putting this off just in case i wanted to make changes but now i'm committed.

and later im not going to be able to stop myself from rambling abt his companion connections at length so i'm dropping this here as the starting point to keep me CONSISTENT.

refers to mild act 2 spoilers because I need to be a little bit unhinged about things. currently in act 3, but i'm saving that for later because there is so much happening. anyway

bullet point backstory bc it's 11 pm. what up.

used to be a priest(ess) of lolth. raised among devout lolth-sworn, which of course gives him baggage he doesn't even realize exists until like halfway through the game.

'i had a normal childhood' - guy who very much did not have a normal childhood. am i projecting my religious trauma here. who can say

very committed. basically used serving lolth as an elaborate excuse to get away with whatever selfish whims popped into his head

worked alongside two other, equally terrible priestesses under the mutual understanding that they were only 'allies' until they could stab each other in the back

last one standing is loth's fav. you know how it is

did in fact get stabbed in the back when one of them uncovered a secret of his and used it to oust him

fully accepted he was going to get sacrificed to lolth. was pretty chill with it, actually. as far as he was concerned it only made sense.

the priestess who ousted him decided it would be meaner to banish him to the surface instead

she was correct.

became SO INCENSED at being told he was not a worthy sacrifice that it became ALL he cared about

like. he refused to wrap his brain around it, so he just went 'fine, i will claw my way up from the dirt and eat bugs or whatever and i WILL become so fucking impressive that when i come back DOWN here you will HAVE to sacrifice me. that's how good i'll be.

'also maybe i'll trans my gender while i'm at it bc at this point I Have Nothing To Lose'

lost ability to use magic in the middle of this and just refused to think about the 'god abandoned me' implications

knew nothing about the surface. broke into places, stole, and murdered to survive. discovered life was easier if you got good at lying, just in case you got caught stealing. and he was already Very good at lying.

once he got it all figured out, he fell into organized crime VERY easily, while still secretly holding onto his General Disdain for everyone around him. this was not hard to do. people are shitty to you when you're a drow.

spent a couple decades fighting, stealing, and occasionally murdering if you paid him or annoyed him enough. mentally tucks away all of the crimes he does as 'for lolth' even though he's lowkey aware that's not how that works. there's a bunch of complicated stuff going on in his brain up there and he is avoiding all of it.

basically he starts the game an expert manipulator who FULLY expects to just eventually murder these people he keeps picking up because it Has to be that way, except thru act 1 he. doesn't. and then he starts to get used to them. enough that at camp he starts to drop his Eternal Performance, which everyone initially writes off as 'magni being weirdly dismissive and blunt for some reason' until late act 1 when they realize 'oh wait. that's what he's REALLY LIKE. he was LYING.'

his feelings towards the companions and himself and his goals get incredibly complicated. sometimes he sucks. sometimes he doesn't. gale makes him ask himself questions he does not want to know the answer to, but he can't just let it GO now that he's asking them. the people around him are trusting him with their deepest secrets and desires and it is FREAKING HIM OUT because he doesn't know how to do anything with secrets except destroy. so he drops the act further thru act 2. except they're still doing it. because they know what he's like by now. and they know that sometimes! he refrains from doing the mean selfish thing! because they wouldn't like it! and he hates that he feels that way and is occasionally halfheartedly mean and petty later like it's going to make the uncomfortable taste in his mouth go away but he is forming attachments to these people and there is NOTHING he can do about that

anyway. i'm going to shake my laptop later re: gale being asked to Explode by his god and how it forces magni to look literally his Only Driving Goal For Decades (getting eaten by spiders) in the face and ask himself if that's really what he wanted, but i'm in full hyperfixation mode. also he just rly loves astarion. he can't say that word though. feels wrong in his mouth

it's also put him in the weird act 3 spot of being the person who has already ASKED himself the hard questions that everyone else is now asking. he is, for the first time ever, somewhat the reasonable one. which means he's gotta accept he thinks differently about things than he used to. which he doesn't like. but he's embraced the softness, he just doesn't want you to mention it.

and sometimes he just goes and stands in a cold lake at 1 am so he doesn't have to think about anything. you know how it goes

[thetriangletattoo]

.

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 6: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should ask the Innkeeper about the suspicious egg he got from the Well Creature….

-

After finishing his food scraps, he awkwardly creeps back over to the main counter, pulling up a stool and just hoping the Innkeeper will eventually make eye contact with him... She finally looks to the side whilst cleaning a glass, his chance to blurt out whatever he can.

"SO!- uh,, I um... I found something weird, or uh.. I didn't find it actually, I guess, I..... s-someone, or something.. gave it to me, as maybe..? a reward, or.. oh, well i-it doesn't matter why.. but UH, but so, I was just wondering, d-do you think you might know anything about it? about like, uh... stuff? Objects.. perhaps.....?"

She stares with equal parts amusement and concern, crossing her arms and letting out a soft chuckle, "Well, I've seen quite a variety of things while working here, so - Yeah, I could try to help you identify an item, if that's what you're asking."

"G-good. Okay. Well.. It's, uh..... this." He's barely even placed the little wooden egg box up on the counter before she's already slamming the lid shut and reaching over to force it back into his bag. Suddenly serious, her eyes dart around the room, scanning to ensure no-one else happened to notice.

"Don't EVER let anyone see you with that, okay??". Abrupt tone shift making him even more nervous, he just stares blankly, muttering a few gibberish noises whilst nodding at her in confirmation.

"I mean, I'm not absolutely certain," her voice lowers as she speaks, "but to me it looks exactly like a Caiploras egg. Those animals have been nearly extinct for at least a hundred years. Only tiny groups of them still exist here and there, and even those eventually get wiped out as soon as they're discovered. Kings and nobles used to hunt them, especially for the eggs, 'cause of all the theories - unique magical properties, uses in enchanting, shit like that.. I don't really know, I'm not that experienced with magic.... But.."

She pauses for a few seconds to stare him down (this does not soothe his anxiety at all), examining intently, as if to determine whether he's actually trustworthy before continuing..

"...My brother is. He's a mage, and a scholar, and he specializes in stuff like this, all these rare animals and whatnot. He'll hate me just sending a complete stranger over there, but.. I think you should go see him. He'd definitely be able to identify it- hell, he'd probably even pay you for it, if it really is what I think it is. And, he'd know how to take care of it properly, raise it well, not just cut it up for fucking potions or whatever...", she scoffs bitterly.

Grasping at a nearby napkin to fan himself with, he shifts sweatily in his seat, "W-wh... but,.. How would I do that?"

"What do you mean? Do what?"

"F-find, him.. IHhh... I just.. I don't, know the area well.. is all, I uh...."

"I'll give you directions, obviously.. Are you okay? Do you like... need some water? You look-"

"NHnnnou, I'M FINE! I just, haha.. uh... Maybe, am.. not very good at....uh.. this.." He gestures around himself nonspecifically.

With a brief confused glance, she pours a cup of water anyway, then casually plucks a small notebook from her pocket to begin scribbling messily. "Well, look, I'll give you the information, and if you feel up to it, you can go. I really think you should, but, eh... your choice, y'know."

As he fights his shaky hands to maintain control of the water glass, she lays out the paper on the table, pointing at parts of her sketch. "He's over in Fargahel, which should be a few days travel from here. See? The roads kind of go like this, but it's mostly a straight path. Look for the ruins of an abandoned castle. He's holed himself up in there, the underground part, repurposed into some sort of 'sanctuary' for rehabilitating injured birds or whatever the hell he's up to now. He probably won't attack you or anything, but I signed a little note on the back of this so he knows I sent you.. just in case."

Neatly folding up the map, she slides it towards him as she leans closer to intensely meet his eyes. "Just remember, no matter what you do, do NOT let anyone know you have that egg. There are plenty of folks out here still hunting for them. You don't want someone recognizing it and coming after you. Especially with how, uh...", it feels like she might mention he doesn't seem he'd be very good at combat, but she simply lets the sentence trail off, shrugging with a smile and politely patting his hand as he takes the paper.

"Just get some sleep, yeah? Think about it. And talk to me in the morning if you have any more questions."

He slumps over to lean on the counter, resting for a moment after she walks back to the other end of the room, just trying to wrap his head around all the new information.. He only took the egg because it looked pretty! He just wanted it to hatch into a cool chicken or something! Why does it have to actually be some big stinky scary secret rare item?... With a heavy sigh, he resolves to never again trust mysterious creatures that pop out of abandoned wells....

Eventually trudging up to his room for the night, he flops onto the lumpy mattress that seems to just be hay stuffed into dusty old potato sacks. As he rustles around waiting to fall asleep, he considers all of his options... What should he do with the egg?

[0v3rachi3v3r]

bpd sucks

when i first went from tumblr to twitter circa 2018 i followed a few folks from tumblr on twitter bc they were friends and i had no idea where to start

since then, shit went down and there were ppl i just. could not absolutely stand to see bc they reminded me of the bad times(tm). 

unfollowed/blocked on twitter made my life so much better

then twitter shit happened so i came back and lo n behold holy moly yikers i forgot they existed on this site too...

and just bc of that my day (at least the next few hours) has been ruined bc i have such heightened emotions and negative feels

like yea blocked the one account i never hope to see, unfollowed the main acct bc even looking at it is :///

hhhhhhhhhh life is difficult with bpd bc literal emotions from 3 years ago will come back and hit you like a truck the same way it did years ago with the same intensity

[sxcret-garden-archive]

,

[brick-a-doodle-do]

Thanks! As far as I know you didn't leave any sort of comment on the Vara merch but I did get that ask—I gotta do the one from beckyu before that one tho and you once again gave me a challenge bc I haven't drawn the Axel's aunt yet so I don't even know what she looks like

Me being coded for writing stories comes down to me being able to hyperfixate on something so much that I can spend the entire day and not eat at all and not feel hungry—I usually get yelled at before it gets that far bc I have low blow sugar so it kinda backfires on me

And—

You have given me too much power—

♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

AH okay time to go reblog it >:)

SVHFDSJ you've got a whole original character to create AFTER writing the thing with them in it that's just amazing FJDJF ALSOOO i'm happy i've picked a challenge yet again >:DDD

oh......thanks for the tutorial! i'll let you know how it goes :D

OH jeez okay DON'T do that- just...take the creative process slow and see if maybe that helps a lil bit? idk i know the power which i have over creative brain is very little but hopefully that's different for you,,,

OH OH OH OH you want to test me? i'm doing all of them.

"(get too close baby) knock on your door, then i" — flowers (the nbhd)

"purpose on a pedestal, looking back at you, look what i have done, look what i can do" — nobody (half-alive) (ty becky i love this song now) (i also like the lil hum right under that line)

"i made sure i held you close to me" — call out my name (the weeknd) (also the second line not the first)

"dancing through the night" OR the last "touch me, yeah. i want you to touch me there. make me feel like i am breathing, make me feel like i am human, again" — a little death (the nbhd)

"don't trust english boys, with far too much free time" — your sister was right (you better know)

ohhh can i do the whole song....? ughhhh i'd do the whole song but if i HAD to choose: "sent my soul on a little vacation, yeah" — cherry flavored (the nbhd)

"house so empty need a centerpiece, 20 racks a table cut from ebony" or the the OR the lil intermission between lines idk what it's called — starboy (the weeknd)

the last "remember what the people said" in all the choruses (if that makes sense) OR "and when they said what i wanted was a figment, i had to turn the other cheek but i was listening" — let it go (the nbhd)

"has melancholy taken you for good?" — sweetie little jean (cage the elephant)

this WHOLE thing lmao — escapism. - sped up (raye, 070 shake)

"now it's three in the mornin' and i'm tryin' to change your mind — why'd you only call me when you're high? (arctic monkeys)

"and the sound when leather jackets hit the floor. you should hear when you're not around, when it's just us horny poets who can't wait to write it down" — not allowed (tv girl) (idk why i like it sm, the lyrics specifically are just cool)

"i can't wait til the drought is over" — cry baby (the nbhd)

"if you didn't go and fall in love, and ruin everything — losing face (wil ofc) (i like this line specifically bc it reminds me of the demo and that is DEFINITELY one of my favorite wilbur lines)

"maybe it's a blessing in disguise (i see myself in you), i see your reflection in my eyes" — reflections (the nbhd)

"the hardest place to be is right where you are" — arrow (half-alive) (half-alive's choruses are always bomb af)

(i'll let you know right here that i am tired of going through lyrics but i'm still gonna do it because i want you to know i am MISREADING this ask and am GOING TO DO ALL 19 INFINITY EMOJIS because MY HUMOR IS MESSED UP and THIS IS WHAT I FIND FUNNY LMFAO)

"running in circles now look what you've done (woo), give you my word as you take it and run — friends (chase atlantic)

"no one deserves you yeah you're mine, only with you i feel alive. if you leave me here i'll die, i need you to stay" — stay (ari abdul)

"what's the point of all the noise if we can't hear each other?" or the lil rap — girls & boys (jesse®)

OH MY GOD I AM SO TIRED OF THIS FINALLY I AM AT 19 LMAO

DO NOT QUESTION ME AGAIN AND ALSO THE ASK GAME IS OFF I'M NOT REMINDING ANYONE ELSE TO SEND ME AN INFINITY I AM TIRED AS HELL 😭 /lh /nm/nmay

[leave-me-alone-please]

It's been a good run I guess

In the sense that it could have been worse

I had good times

I had good people in my life

And if I were still able to feel anything but despair I'd feel thankful for that

But everything is burning and there is no way out

And sometimes it seems like no one wants to actually look for a way out either

The world is a cruel horrible place and nothing I do will change that

I am not enough, never will be

I am too much, always and for everyone

I'm sorry it has to be this way

I love you

I don't want to leave

But I just can't do this anymore

I see many ways and none of them lead anywhere

This has become so utterly meaningless

It's just pain for nothing

Again and again and again

I've been paying for years

I've been praying for things to get better

I've been praying for a cat to run me over

I've been praying to get cancer

I've been praying to wake up in a different reality

Is it the human condition I struggle with or am I struggling with the powerlessness that I have trapped myself in?

Do I struggle with seeing so much and just knowing that it all connects and that there is something really important we are all missing but being too stupid to figure it out?

Do I struggle with the unfairness inherent in this system the willingness of so many to uphold it?

Do I struggle with all those stupid social rules we have made up?

Do I struggle with my mind running faster than I can follow whenever I don't drug it?

Do I struggle with being trapped in a flesh prison?

Do I struggle with this deep feeling of just everything being so completely wrong?

Do I struggle with none of this being real and yet this world being the only reality I can have?

Do I struggle with existential boredom?

I don't struggle

I should complain less and do more

I'm not allowed to struggle with such silly things

And yet I know that my day will today has exactly three outcomes:

1. Something unexpected happens

2. I drug myself so bad I sleep through the next few days

3. I end up with a rope and a bottle of pills in my hand slowly walking to my demise and just seeing if I can be bothered enough to stop

[sturnsdarling]

are you still awake?

Chris and y/n had a stupid fight, but he refuses to go to bed angry

part two

vibe check: fluffy and suggestive towards the end, softie!chris, mentions of fighting etc, you get the jist bro

900 words

A/N: I LOVE CHRIS he's so fricken cute I wanna pull my hair out. kid said he can't go to bed angry at his brothers and I died. anyways enjoy this blurb of my little angel baby princess

love and cigs, merc

You and Chris were laying back to back in his bedroom, feet tangled in each others at the foot of the bed. The room was completely dark, a light patter of warm LA rain creating the perfect atmosphere in the room for you to slip into a peaceful sleep. You were stretched out in his bed, hugging the cold side of your pillow as you dozed off, having had a long and stressful day, all you wanted to do was sleep.

Chris on the other hand, was wide awake. He had been tossing and turning for hours, unable to quiet his mind. Earlier that day, you guys had a stupid argument that was so pointless you didn't even remember how it started. After a back and forth of who's right and who's wrong, you took off in a huff and told Chris you were going to bed, because you couldn't be bothered to argue with him anymore. In the moment, he didn't care, angry enough to let you fall asleep by yourself.

But that was earlier, and after he crawled into bed, the sight of you peacefully tucked up in his sheets stripped him of any lingering anger, and all he wanted was to make sure that you were okay.

"baby" Chris whispered, turning to place a gentle hand on the side of your shoulder.

you didn't respond, only hugged the pillow tighter with a soft groan.

"baby" he repeated, "are you still awake?"

you groaned slightly, face smushed against your pillow as your eyes fluttered, "I am now, Chris"

Chris' arm gently wrapped around your waist and he peppered soft kisses on your bare shoulder, "I can't sleep after what happened earlier" he said softly.

"what are you talking about?" you sighed, turning round to face him, desperately trying to pry your eyes open.

He hovered over you, brushing your bed tangled hair from your face, "I can't go to sleep if I know we're not okay"

A long exhale left your nose as you rolled your eyes slightly, "we're fine, Chris, please go to sleep" you said, attempting to turn back to your comfortable position.

Chris couldn't accept that, he pulled you by the shoulder back over to face him, "what if tonight is the night one of us dies in our sleep? d'you really want to have to go on knowing that our last conversation was a fight?"

You tiredly chuckled, "you're ridiculous" you said, rolling your eyes slightly as a smile crept its way onto your face.

" m'serious, baby, I can't sleep knowing we're not good" he whined slightly, "m'sorry for everything I said, y'know I didn't mean it"

Your hand found his face in the dark, the light from the moon illuminating his soft features slightly as it crept its way through his blinds. An uncontrollable smile lingered on your lips as he pushed his cheek further into your touch.

"I'm sorry too, my love, it was stupid"

Chris grinned and lowered his lips to yours, pressing a soft and tender kiss over them, his hand hooked round your jaw. He broke the kiss gently, rubbing a caring thumb over your cheek as he did.

"can I go back to sleep now?" you muttered, your tiredness creeping back up on you.

"yes, baby, go to sleep, I love you" Chris replied, shifting so he was tucked behind you. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him so tight you'd think he was afraid you'd slip away

"I love you more" you said with a sleepy groan, nestling yourself back into him, his frame engulfing you in a comfortable warmth.

"not possible" he whispered, pressing a loving kiss onto your shoulder.

You let out a tired hum at his words, pushing back into him even more as your legs intertwined with his. The feeling of your skin against his, your nearly bare ass pressing back into him and the sound of your sleepy whines all going straight to his crotch. The blood in his body started to rush downwards, and he found himself absentmindedly grinding his hips against the soft flesh of your ass.

His movements brought you back out of your approaching slumber and you instinctively pushed back against his now painfully hard length, the feeling of his hard cock making you giggle slightly.

"Really, Chris? now?" you whispered

Chris groaned slightly, grinding into you harder, "I cant help it, baby, y'know how I get after our post fight make up convos" he whined, referring to how every time you guys would fight and make up, you telling him that you loved him and that everything was okay just did something to him.

You brought your hand up behind you and raked it through his long curls, tugging at the root slightly as you massaged his scalp, giving in and grinding your ass back against his movements

The sensation made Chris whimper, and he began to nip and suck at your neck, "s'that a yes?" he said, still grinding into you

you chuckled, moving your hand down to palm him over his boxers, "yes, Chris, but you're doing all the work" your words muffled by your pillow.

Chris' hips bucked up into your hand, a boyish excitement filling his brain "s'fine by me, baby, you don't have to move at all, I jus wanna put it in for a lil, need t'feel you around me"

A/N: smutty part two? lmk

taglist: @sturniozalt @mattslolita @shaquilles-0atmeal @blahbel668 @sleepysturniolo @le4hsblog 

[boowritess]

part 1 hehe

notsobaddasssoldier!reader that is so incredibly under prepared for everything. and the 141 really do forget that you're actually still very green - very new to this life.

especially with things like interrogation.

for once, price is putting you on the sideline BUT you have to interogate the person they have captive for valuable information.

they'll give you whatever things you need in order to pry out any sort of information from the captive. they don't even second guess you asking for a guitar. they get one then they continue on with the mission while you interrogate the person.

their expectation may have been very high. they were betting on all the little fun bloody pain you could potentially do to the captive. seriously,

"knife, they're a knife person" *ghost*

"definitely not. fire. they're definitely using a blowtorch on em as we speak." *soap*

"sod of the both of ya - waterboarding. for sure." *gaz*

"choking." *price shrugs*

obviously, they were excited to come back and see who was right...

it really humbled them to see they were all wrong.

"please make them stop. i'll tell you whatever you want"

*captive yelling that can be barely heard over reader.*

"AHHHHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH AHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH-"

*reader who is loudly strumming the guitar out of tune, screaming in the captives' face over and over again.*

the guys don't know if they should be impressed or concerned. they were gone for nearly 5 hours.

5 hours you had been screaming in the captives' face 'playing' the guitar.

later on you get a lesson from ghost about what interrogations are supposed to be like - it ends with you vomiting and price patting your back and gaz holding a bucket to your mouth.

"what did you think was gonna happen when ghost showed ye what to do?" *soap*

"i don't know... go boo?" *scarred reader*

yeah... you're not allowed to do interrogations anymore or be involved in interrogations- you are also most definitely not allowed to talk to captives or guard them because -

"why're you doing this?" *captive*

"honest to god, i ain't got much goin' for me and i had hella stu-"

*reader's mouth suddenly gets covered, gaz looking at you like an idiot*

"hm? what is your little task force plan, huh? go on and blow the place?" *captive*

"well actually no. they plan too-" *your mouth gets covered just in time and you're getting dragged out the room by a very frustrated price*

you very much get ANOTHER lesson about what NOT TO DO when in the same room as a captive - it's pointless though because you're still not ever allowed in the same room alone with a captive.

HAHAHA

i can't stop thinking of reader who is watching a captive be interrogated for information by getting choked and reader just piping up like

"i don't think they can breathe..."

*ghost, long exhale, continues choking captive*

"that's the point, kid" *price*

"oh..."

*they continue choking the captive, waiting for them to crack-*

"if they can't breathe how are they going to talk-?"

"out." *ghost snaps pointing at the door.*

maybe they do give you a second shot at attempting to interrogate the captive. the 'correct' way this time, though. giving you ALL the necessary tools...

and you are ready, you're pumped. you can do it. you're not going to vomit - you're going to do it right.

you grab the pliers and walk towards the captive who is obviously panicked, very much expecting you to do your worse. which you are.

you grab their mouth and force their mouth open, ready to pull their teeth out - sucking a deep breath in as the captive starts to cry and beg.

but then you start to cry and beg.

"please just tell me the information i don't wanna do this"

"you don't have too!" *captive, crying and begging too*

"i do! i'm sorry..."

"no." *captive*

"yes."

"no" *captive starts screaming, making you start screaming as you pull on their tooth both of you staring at eachother and screaming your heads off.*

"I'M SORRY!"

"STOP!" *captive*

"I CAN'T!" *pulls tooth with pliers* "EW EW EW EW-"

you don't even do it right. you're pulling at their tooth with pliers and you're not strong enough so you're awkwardly just tugging the captives head. but the both of you are too busy screaming and begging to notice...

but you actually manage to successfully get the information - you're still not allowed to do interrogations... only being the very last option.

it does mean that you have to go on missions... even if you're useless omg idea?

*gasp* someone claims reader is a traitor - oop?

more parts, perhaps?

a/n: wrote this while trying to work through an anxiety/panic attack !! xx honestly tho these would be my genuine reaction. btw drink water and try sleep cause i can't xx

[fayes-fics]

Rebel

Paring: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: You only wanted a quiet refuge away from the ball, you got a lot more than that…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, rake!Anthony, innocent!reader, frottage incl. clit stimulation through clothing, female and male orgasms.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: For all the Anthony fans, sorry it's been so long since I posted a fic for him alone. I don't recall where this idea originated from other than my wanting to do a trapped-together trope for him. It turned out sweeter than I expected tbh. Thanks to @colettebronte for an awesome betaing, as always. Enjoy! <3

You are grateful to find a little oasis of calm. A small storage room that is cool, dark and quiet—a world away from the loud, stuffy ballroom. The perfect hideout from the undesirable whirlwind of your first-ever society event, escaping your aunt’s clutches at an opportune moment as she was detained by a verbose member of the Ton. Slumped against the wall, shoes removed, and eyes closed, you finally find a calm reverie, your flushed skin cooling….

Until that is, your refuge is rudely invaded.

There is a shaft of almost blinding light and then a whirlwind of movement. The door makes an odd clicking noise as it is practically slammed shut again. 

And then a deep, wracked sigh that is decidedly male.

All of your serenity evaporates, a prickle over your skin at the realisation you are not alone. In fact, you are unchaperoned in a darkened room with an unknown man. 

Fretting for a few moments, you know it's impossible to slip past him unnoticed. So you hope you can stay quiet enough and pray he will leave again shortly. Perhaps it's the darkness that heightens his hearing; maybe it's that you are unable to silence your breathing sufficiently in such a small room, but your hope is instantly dashed.

“Who is there?” his voice rings out loudly, and you wince, knowing it's probably pointless to stay silent but seemingly unwilling to speak.

There is the rasp of a match being struck, and then a tiny flame appears to illuminate the lines of a face. It looks youthful, handsome, well-bred… and very annoyed.

“What in God’s name are you doing in here? And who are you?” He questions as he swings the flame around, looking for a sconce to light, making a quiet sound of victory as he locates one near the door.

“I…I came to escape.” Your confession is easier with his back turned as he lights the fixture. “I'm Miss y/l/n. And you are?”  

He guffaws as he faces you again. “Hah …”

“Did I say something amusing?” you squint slightly as you adjust to the light after considerable minutes alone in the dark.

“I believe you did...” he chuckles, bemused that you do not instantly recognise him. “Well, ‘tis of little consequence,” he sniffs, “as this is occupied, I shall bid you adieu and find a different private space….”

It appears he was looking for escape as much as you. But, what he probably hoped would be his parting words, accompanied as they are by a brusque nod, turn out to be anything but. 

The polished brass door knob spins in his grip, but the door does not relent, staying firmly within its frame. He tries a few more times before huffing and starting to rattle it more insistently. Then, beginning to lean into the door with his weight as if hoping that would shift it.

The door opens inward, idiot… you roll your eyes unseen, assuming the man is playing a prank at first. But the more he repeats the same move, each a shade more frantic than the last, the more you realise it is perhaps not a comedic bit.

“We are stuck?!” You check, indignance flaring. The door was just fine before he got here.

“It would appear so, Miss,” not pausing in his actions as he answers, a curl of hair flopping rather fetchingly over his forehead.

You start to pace back and forth, only a few steps possible in the small room, but an overwhelming need to move to dissipate the nerves creeping up your spine.

“Well, bang on the door then!” you gesticulate, forgetting any manners in your growing disquiet.

“Outspoken...” he pauses to mutter under his breath, but it’s begrudging respect more than chastisement. He starts to do exactly as you suggest: pound his fist on the door and call out for anyone. He presses his ear to the door, hoping to hear an approach. When there appears to be none, he repeats. “You could help, you know…” he throws out pointedly, side-eyeing you.

“Tis not becoming of a lady…” you counter sarcastically.

“Neither is ordering me around, but you seemed to have no issue in that regard,” he retorts, raising an eyebrow that calls your bluff and has you springing to his aid.

With both of you thumping on the door, you hope discovery is imminent, but after a few attempts, no one comes to assist. 

“Urghh! The ball is likely too loud, and this corridor too seldom visited,” you surmise.

“Most likely,” he concedes, a flash of what looks like admiration flitting across his features. “Perhaps we will need to remain in here until the ball is quieter.”

“That could be hours; my aunt will wonder where I am,” you slump your head into your hands before moving to pace again.

“Then maybe she will dispatch a search party. You are not the first debutante to hide in a storage closet, believe me. This may well be the first place they come looking.”

“Not exactly ideal, or did you forget it would be a scandal if we are found here together?!” you point out tartly.

Again, there is a flash of something over his face, as if he enjoys it when you behave the very opposite of polite.

“Of course, I did not,” he gruffs, then softens his countenance. “I shall conceal myself in that alcove behind the door,” he gestures to the corner where, indeed, there is an almost hidden indent in the wall. “Your search party shall be none the wiser. I can make my escape once the coast is clear.”

His suggestion immediately assuages you, believing the sincerity in his tone. There is a beat as you both nod to each other as if sealing this pact.

“You still have not told me your name…” a need to know it after this gentlemanly gesture.

“You honestly do not know?” prompting an attractive furrow between his eyebrows.

“No. This is my first ball. I am here at the behest of my maternal aunt. I have no earthly idea who most of these people are,” you huff, gesturing towards the jammed door.

“Some may argue lucky for you….” his response laced with amusement before he squares his shoulders to continue. “Bridgerton. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.”

“Oh…”

If there is one name your cousin has warned you about before tonight, it's the Bridgerton brothers. All handsome, rich, intelligent… and very unlikely to take a wife. It would be wiser to howl at the moon than expect the pursuit of a Bridgerton—her stark words of warning echoing in your mind as you sense him observing you curiously. Your response is obviously not what he expected, that forehead crease reappearing. 

“Oh?” he mimics. “What on earth is that supposed to mean?”

“I am… aware of your family…” You confess, unsure what else to say.

“It does not sound a pleasant recollection,” he astutely surmises. “Am I to assume my family has done yours some harm?”

“No!” you reply quickly. “Nothing of that nature…”.

“Then what?... Out with it!” a mild irritation rising as you hesitate.

“My cousin warned me about the Bridgerton brothers,” you blurt out.

He barks a brief laugh but takes a step closer, his stance relaxing and gaining a swagger.

“Oh, did she now?” his voice changed; deeper, smokier, firing something in your belly.

“Yes…” it's your turn to square your shoulders, crossing your arms defensively for good measure. The trouble is, it just draws attention to your breasts. You don't miss the way his eyes flick down briefly.

“What did she tell you?” he seems to move inexorably closer, dark eyes sparkling in the low candlelight.

“That I should not seek a dance with you,” you admit, seemingly unable to avoid answering this man truthfully.

“And why might that be?” his cadence almost a rumble now.

“You are not marriage material.”

“And is that what you want? Marriage?” Skillfully deflecting an admission it’s true.

“It’s what’s expected of me. What I may or may not want is irrelevant,” you sniff.

“What a pity. I think what you truly want may be something far more… interesting,” Anthony’s tone is like velvet as he draws closer, towering over you. Your body responds almost against your will, a flush running down your torso, a tingle in your arms.

“Irrelevant,” you repeat, as you defiantly glare up at him, heartbeat racing.

“Is it…?”

He seems to know you want this precisely because it's what you should not be doing. The tempting taste of rebellion wrapped up in a handsome face.

A warm hand rounds your elbow, and his lips suddenly brush your ear.  “Also, it seems unfair to condemn me a rake based on the words of another, does it not? Should a man not get the chance to defend himself? Surely you are of sound enough mind to draw your own conclusions?” 

The irony of attempting to defend himself against the accusation while acting the archetypal rake is not lost on you, even as you fight every twitch in your body, a want to grab and be grabbed, almost an itch on your skin.

“Your current actions, my lord, do not exactly dispute her assessment,” you counter boldly, pleased you can tamp the waver in your voice.

His laugh is a warm gust down your neck that makes you shiver.

“Perhaps not,” he concedes, “and yet… here you still are…” 

You can’t argue with that. You could indeed easily move away, his hold on your elbow symbolic…. No, it’s that you most definitely don’t want to.

“You are a rake,” you murmur, even as your lips brush his cheekbone.

“And you like it…” he breathes raggedly, skittering across your skin as your heart pounds in your ears.

God, if that isn’t the truth.

“Do I?” you sass and pull back a few inches.

Anthony’s nostrils flare, and his eyes flash. The pluckier you get, the more it riles him up and reels him in.

“There is something you could teach all the other debutantes out there,” he tilts his head to one side and reaches for the dance card tied to your wrist, holding it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Enlighten me…”

“That a feisty young woman is far more attractive than a demure, meek girl,” he breathes, a finger now tracing the ribbon on the card, lingering on the delicate skin of your wrist.

“So you can domesticate a free spirit?” you sneer disapprovingly.

“Oh no, no. The very opposite. To let her run wild…” his fingers trail up your forearm, causing goosebumps in their wake, your breath quickening. Then he leans in, his lips by your ear again, breath hot “....and hang on tight because that will be the ride of your damn life.”

“Rake,” you murmur.

“Rebel,” he rumbles in return, goading.

Exhilaration makes you turn a fraction into his cheek, and it’s the permission he needs, moving to capture your lips with his. 

Fireworks explode in your body as, for the first time, a man kisses you. And not just a peck. No, it's a soft, sensual dance at first, his lips warm and wet, opening yours and inviting you to take it further. And you do. Grab his jacket sleeves, feeling the muscular outline of his biceps underneath as his hands move to grasp your waist and haul you against his body. The kiss turns hot and electric, his tongue entwining with yours, you following his motions, a flash of heat spiking through you as if struck by some powerful force. He pulls back, breaking the kiss, both of you breathing hard and staring at each other. 

“Tell me to stop…” he challenges, but everything in his demeanour tells you it's the opposite of what he wants. And it's definitely not what you want.

You bite your lip and shake your head.

There is a noise, male, hungry, utterly arousing, and then he is back on you. Kissing like wildfire and walking you backwards against the wall, velour wallpaper tickling the skin of your shoulders where your dress scoops lower. His hands are hot through the thin silk of your gown, grasping your waist and pulling you into him. His mouth tastes of whiskey, a hint of smoke and something earthy that is sinful.

“What do you want to know?” he asks teasingly, his mouth ghosting over yours. “Do you wish to know a man’s body, to know pleasure, or possibly both?” 

Each option sounds wonderful, tempting, perfect even. But there is one that trips from your tongue.

“Pleasure,” you answer greedily, feeling selfish to continue chasing this fizzing effervescence you have inside, both sweeter and tarter than any champagne.

“Mmm, I thought you might say that,” he chuckles, nuzzling your cheek. 

“Next question. And I shall offer no clues as to what this might mean if you do not know already…. But do you want…” he pauses to swipe his tongue sinfully into your mouth, “tongue…” he breathes, pulling away a fraction, “or…” his hand cups your chin, then two fingers push between your lips, an earthy, smoky taste from holding cigars now lingering on your tongue, “...fingers.”

Instinctively, you close your mouth around the invading digits and suckle lightly, his eyes flaring, and a groan catches in his throat.

1“Good god, I wish you had said you want to know a man….”

You have no idea what he might be referring to, but you can't resist suckling harder on his fingertips, feeling wanton but enjoying the power you seem to hold over him in this moment, his entire dazzling focus on you.

“You did not answer my question, y/n,” he scolds gently, slowly removing his fingers from your mouth and trailing your saliva over your own throat.

“Whatever you will,” you breathe, already missing him in your mouth as his fingers trail lower, leaving a dampness over the swell of your breast that makes your breath quicken.

His lips are back on yours, demanding, plundering kisses that have you wanting more. So much more. As he pulls away, his lips are red and damp, and his dark eyes intense, sparkling in the candlelight.

“Perhaps my fingers are best, for this circumstance at least,” he opines, sounding a touch reluctant, “less incriminating should we be swiftly interrupted…”

Part of you wishes there was some furniture you could push against the door so no one could disturb you, let him do whatever - everything - he wants. Because if it makes you feel anything like what you do now, you’d know you would allow it, consequences and propriety be damned.

“Pull up your dress,” he orders lowly, his lips on your cheek.

He makes a tiny noise of approval as you put your hands at your hips and grab handfuls of your dress and chemise until the hem is high above your knees, looping the fabric over your forearms, the air cool on your thighs. He drops a little soft kiss upon the shell of your ear as if to reward your obedience.

But then you gasp as suddenly his hand slides down your front and cups between your legs, so much heat through the thin layer of your silk undergarment. He makes an approving noise, apparently liking what he finds, pulling your earlobe into his mouth and grazing it softly with his teeth. Two of his fingers drag achingly slowly against the soft material. Your skin seems as if it could vibrate straight off your body and you cling to him, eyes going wide at the intensity from just a light touch.

“So perfectly responsive”, he gusts. “I almost forgot how very beguiling an innocent can be… and such a keen one at that.”

You can tell from his inflexion it's intended as a compliment; he seems so very charmed by your willingness. And you are so very eager for him, for the sensations he is wringing from your body never to cease. As those fingers keep stroking, your mouth is slack, and you press your breasts into him, wanting no inch of your body away from his. His lips are hot on your cheekbone, the other arm caged around you. 

He doesn't make any move to discard your underwear. Instead, he just keeps stroking over a spot between your legs that is rapidly swelling under his touch, viscous warm liquid leaking into the silky material and seeping through onto his fingers.

“Perfect,” he growls and moves faster.

“It feels so different…” you gulp, then clarify, “...to when I touch myself.”

He inhales sharply, his eyes flashing dark, and his fingers curl more insistent against your nub.

“You do this to yourself? An innocent?” He looks unbridled now with both admiration and lust.

You just nod, biting your lip.

“My perfect little rebel….” he lauds.

He is huffing into your hairline now, scenting you as you writhe instinctually on his questing fingers. Someone else’s touch is a magnified experience of what you have done alone before. This is wholly other: another human with you in this moment, him panting with desire, his body heat seeping through clothing, his fingers calloused in a way that catches perfectly on your swollen flesh as his resonant voice and smoky mint breath pleads with you not to stop. 

Grabbing onto his lapel, needing an anchor, you stare up into his deep brown eyes, the look on his face utterly triumphal, his lips lowering to cover yours, breathing each other’s air. Something hard pressing into your hip bone as you ride boldly upon his fingers now. A shiver runs up your spine at how good this is, little sparks firing from the pinpoint of pleasure between your legs. The coiled spring of desire is so much more profound with him, a delicious tension in your whole being. He keeps muttering low words of praise of how well you are doing, and how beautiful you look. Your skin flushes with arousal and exertion, and a bead of wetness runs down your inner thigh just as you are climbing to that point of no return. 

Suddenly, he withdraws his touch, your responding whine trailing off as his fingers swipe through that trickle of moisture. Then you stare transfixed as he brings it up to his mouth and sucks the dewiness from his fingertips, a hungry noise hitching in his throat as he does. It makes you desperate for him, for this. To reach that pinnacle with him. A burning want to do it time and time again. To find your pleasure with him, for him. To experience everything that can happen between a man and a woman.

“I want to know a man too,” you exhale unevenly, not able to censor your wayward thoughts, your abandoned clit throbbing hard in your soaked underwear.

He groans, the vibration of it quaking through him and that hand now cups your jaw. “By god, you will,” he asserts roughly, and you can smell traces of your arousal on his fingers as he leans in and kisses you deeply, the flavour of it tart on his tongue.

“Please touch me again…” your voice a broken plea.

His smile is devilish handsomeness personified, as he does just as you ask. You cry out over his lips as he expertly swipes over that spot again, rubbing even faster now. Rocketing you right back to the point where you have to cling to him, your knees buckling.

His other hand snakes around your body and grabs your breast through your dress. It makes you groan loudly, a yearning for him to strip off the layers, rip away your stays and snag your pebbled nipple between his teeth.

“What are you thinking?” he demands hotly, and you realise your face must give away something of your licentious wishes.

“I want your mouth on my breasts,” you confess the truth raggedly, riding his fingers again, whimpering and moaning with each expert flick of his fingers.

He growls, more untamed creature than man, and he pinches you through the layers, seemingly knowing exactly where your nipple is. The sensation, even though dulled through cotton and silk, makes you shudder and call out loudly. To the point he hushes you, deciding next to swallow your cries with kisses. Stealing your breath with his tongue as his fingers swirl in a rough circle between your legs, a drag that is so delicious, it hurls you right over the edge you skate and into oblivion.

Your whole body convulses, him pressing you into the wall to stay upright, your lungs tight as you scream your release into his mouth, vision swimming, a complete fuzziness as you float away. Nothing like you have experiences alone, a hundred times more visceral, carnal—utterly addictive.

As you return to the room, he is rutting himself against your hip bone, a solid mass between his legs. The feral nature of his movements awakens something in you, and you grasp his neck and pull him down to your lips.

“Do it,” you challenge through gritted teeth. 

Wanting him to reach his peak as much as you just have. Not yet understanding fully what is happening, but everything between your legs clenching and aching for something you can't articulate as he follows your bidding and ruts himself against you furiously now, grunting. You kiss him with ferocity and reach around to grab his shapely rear to encourage his movements. 

That’s the catalyst he needs, and, with an almost howl, he stills, pressed harshly into you, his face contorted, slack-jawed, and you feel a bloom of warmth through the wool of his trousers.

There are no words spoken for a few moments, just harsh breathing, the air heavy with the tang of sex. Then he moves to cup your face tenderly, closing his eyes and tilting his forehead on yours.

“Good god,” he sounds gravelly, sated, floored. “I….”

But he is interrupted by the sound of the door handle being jiggled violently, making you both spring apart lightning fast, clothing being rapidly rearranged. The door finally relents, and a footman’s face appears in the crack. He likely can surmise, and perhaps indeed scent, what has just transpired. 

“I wondered where you had got to, Sir,” he clears his throat, “but then I was passing by and knew this had to be you,” a barely contained smirk suggesting he could well have been guarding the door for a while.

“Jenkins!” Anthony’s relief is palpable. 

“The carriage, Sir, I presume?” he offers pointedly.

“Yes, please,” Anthony nods. As the man disappears, leaving the door ajar, Anthony’s hand slips into yours. Then, in a tone that brokers no argument - not that you have an ounce of interest in doing so - he declares, “You, my delicious little rebel, are coming with me….” 

masterlist • wips • taglist (must be following this blog to be tagged)

Anthony taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @delehosies @m-rae23 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @vane28282 @kisskissshutmydoor @y0ur-favgerman @sya-skies @urfavnoirette @cinnamoodles @blackdxggr @alexandrainlove @witty-wallflower @black-kitten-imagines @detectiveviridian @themadhattersqueen @tinypinkdragon @fudge13 @fanfiction-she-wrote