#i love camels so this was an absolute TREAT

[katkalis-the-fanartist]

Just felt like a MILLION bucks. Or Bull in this case!!

Also heres my husband @nova-dragonbound-redux (6'3") next to this COLOSSUS. Keep in mind the foreshortening- farther back its taller than it appears!!

[lovlidollie]

Random Feyd HCs?

you said random so prepare yourself 😭 also i went way too far into this, the amount of research i did into the first few hcs alone is insane

feyd has a thing for imported cheeses and wines. giedi prime does not have the correct atmosphere nor natural resources to make soft, delicate cheese. the planet doesn’t have any photosynthetic potential, no room for grazing animals (let alone grass and greenery) and is so polluted that those who come visit are stuck with oxygen concentrators and advanced oxygen masks. almost, if not all food is imported from other planets: slig (a cross between a giant slug and a pig) from tleilax (feyd didn’t like it much, it was too sweet and not game-y enough for him.), milkbugs (arachnids the size of a small hand) and turtlebugs (sweet insects) from harmonthep (he didn’t like either. bugs weird feyd out and he doesn’t like looking at them.), paradan melon and pundi rice from caladan (the melon was just okay, but feyd loved having the rice with gyrak (heavily seasoned meat from zimia) as his post-arena meal.).

now let’s get into the wines. champia from rossak was something he only drank at dinner parties and official meetings. it’s a cloyingly sweet white wine, and bubbly, which feyd thinks is the only thing that makes it bearable. it’s too flowery and heady for him to properly enjoy. feyd has a high alcohol tolerance, but champia has a way of getting everyone wine-drunk quicker than they think. zincal is a very popular wine from caladan, which makes it the most accessible to the harkonnens. it’s a light red wine, clean and woody and cherry-like (cherries are one of feyd’s favourite fruits, he likes the acidity of them and enjoys chewing on the pits.) it’s a basic wine that feyd neither hates nor loves. now casyrack? his absolute favourite. it’s a dry, intense red wine, that needs to be aged. less than 5 years and it tastes thin and harsh and not at all enjoyable. it needs to be drunk before it’s eighth birthday, but feyd prefers it aged seven years exactly. it’s velvety and rich, with a smoky, spicy aftertaste that leaves feyd’s stomach feeling warm and his head pleasantly thrumming. it’s not popular across the known universe, leaving thousands of bottles sitting idly in the atreides family compound. feyd had to pull a lot of ropes to get a steady supply of the smooth wine.

now, cheeses. again, feyd is not a fan of sweet things. he likes his food salty, bitter, sour. thick cottage cheese is a yes from him. not the runny type and it specifically needs to be made from sheep milk. while he doesn’t like arrakis in general, he has a secret fondness for the food. feyd loves aged camel milk cheese. it’s rich and creamy with a clean finish and pairs well with meats. on that note, camel meat is one of his favourites to have. he eats all his meat bloody and basically raw (like.. feyd… it’s basically still alive…), but he likes how fatty the camel meat is, leaving it tender and juicy. he also likes thick cream cheese made with goat milk. feyd stuffs the cheese into dates and then rolls them in spice as a special treat for not killing too many people who pissed him off during the day.

feyd loves dark chocolate. he doesn’t like sweets and only enjoys them on very special occasions, which is why dark chocolate is so perfect for him. it’s hard to source, but when he’s able to get it imported he does not share with a single person. his favourite would be the 99%-100% cocoa bars. it helps make him slightly more manageable and puts him in a better mood.

he hosts the best parties on the planet. they’re exclusive and elusive, and all the harkonnen elite want nothing more but to be invited to a feyd-rautha party. supplies the guests with the best alcohol and food one can get their hands on. he generally sticks with his pets, stroking their skimpy, scantily-clad bodies while he drinks his wine. he doesn’t have many friends, but he has acquaintances that he has to keep up appearances with, so feyd is sure to make his way around and greet (threaten) everyone.

ends up fucking one of his pets over a table at one of his parties and ‘accidentally’ starts an orgy.

elite music taste. only knows bangers. gatekeeps the good stuff though.

has a blood kink and would willingly eat you out on your period if you’ve behaved. in fact i feel like he’d be more inclined to eat you out even if you haven’t been the best, purely because he is bloodlusting and wants to taste iron on his tongue.

on that note, would be into wound-fucking .. 🤷

[valexformula1]

Electricity - DR3

Request: No

Summary: Reader and Daniel being fools for each other but not confessing after Daniel heard Lewis is gonna ask reader out

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x best friend!reader

Word Count: 1323

Warnings: little sad and fluff, house moving, Daniel and reader being a pair of fools for ice cream, cursing

Author’s Note: Inspired by the song electricity of Silk City, Dua Lipa. Don’t be a ghost reader, it took me a while to write in it.

1996

At your 7 years you got to move from your country because your father got a job offer at Perth, Australia, you got to admin it was scary at first, moving from Peru to Australia was not easy especially when it was a different idiom, people, school, basically everything. Your mother died when you were 4, so it has been you and your dad only until you meet him.

Your dad was a mechanic engineer, and he was working at the Australia track when you meet him. 

It was a very hotness Wednesday when you were looking around for your dad since you got lost looking the other cars when suddenly him bumped you, a pretty boy with big brown eyes and a cheeky smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t see where I was going” 

“Sorry too, are you okey? ” he said cheking on you to see if you were fine

“Yep, I’m y/n by the way”

“I’m Daniel, nice to meet you” he said shaking hands with you “Come on, let’s go for some ice cream” 

Before you could answer he was already running and holding your hand, so you could follow him.

Since that you and him start to hang more and more becoming best friends, you attending to his races and him been for you in every broken heart.

2011

When I'm with you

Ooh, baby

Giving up my ghost for you

“Gosh Daniel, I’m so proud of you debuting for F1” you said

“What you think about the race?” he replied

“That someone is getting an F1 seat soon” 

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely, you’ll see”

“Thanks, changing theme” he said looking behind you “where is Michael?”

“He isn’t coming, actually he isn’t coming anymore we split out, think it wasn’t meant to be”

“What? Why? You okey?”

“Yep, we just wanted different things” you said trying to recover the reality “come on let’s go for some ice cream” you said grabbing his hand.

The truth was that Micheal want to call it quits since he saw how much time you spend with Daniel and you attending to the race and cancelling your date 3 days before was the straw that broke the camel's back. 

He told you that it was clear you and Daniel were in love, so he broke up with you, you didn’t agree with him saying that you got a thing for Daniel when it wasn’t he was your best friend that was all.

2021

All I see is you, lately

Wide awake and in my dreams

I see your face so vividly

I don't know what I'd do

Ooh, baby

If you only saw a friend in me

I'd be bittersweet

That casual kiss on my cheek would have meant nothing up until recently, every time that you saw, hug or touch Daniel there was a feeling, a feeling in your stomach.

This started to happen since that GP 2 years ago when he wins, you watch him get off the stage to hug you and since then you could stop thinking about him. 

Now you weren’t dumb you knew what it meant, but it didn’t matter, today you decided to give it a shot and tell him after the race. 

“Hey Dan, congrats on p4” you said after entering on his driver's room

“Thanks y/n��� okey it was now or never

“So, I want to tell you something” said both of you

“Go ahead” he said

“No, you” you said thinking he would say what you think it was, was it that he felt the same? He also likes you ?

“Well, I meet this pretty girl yesterday and I ask her to go on a date tomorrow” he said smiling

After that you learn that online date apps were not that bad at all.

2022

I know you've been treating, treating yourself wrong

So let me care for you

Ooh, baby

I'ma love you differently

I'll give you electricity

“Hey, you wanna grab some ice cream?” you said to him after he opens the door of the hotel

Everybody knew Daniel wasn’t having the time of his life this season with Mclaren treating him like shit.

“Thank but not in the mood” he says a little sad

“What’s wrong?” you could feel something was not fine

“Imleavingmclaren” he whispered 

“What?” you replied confused

“I’m leaving Mclaren y/n” he said more loud this time with tears in his eyes

This past few weeks Daniel was the center of attention on the paddock but not for a good reason, everyone wanted to know where he was going to go or do after the news. Daniel started to push everyone, fake smiling all the time, there wasn’t that smile that you saw years ago anymore, he started to lose weight and cancelled to your friend dates.

“Daniel, talk to me” you beg, this week you found out Daniel wasn’t eating

“I am fine”

“No you’re not, you being skipping foods” 

“Just wasn’t hungry, that’s all”

“What about our Wednesdays of ice cream that you seem to skip now” you replied a little angry now

“Busy”

“Daniel Joseph Ricciardo stop it, I know you since we were 7, and I know you are not fine, and it’s okey not being fine sometimes” you said now hugging him

“It’s just too much for me right now, I feel like my life doesn’t matter anymore, I feel lost” he cried

“You’re going to be fine, let me care for you ”

2023

I feel electric, baby

So electric, baby

Wanna let you know, let you know

I think I'm ready, baby

I think I'm ready, now

It was the Australia GP and you decided to go see it with Daniel, that night at the hotel he started to feel better, it has been a tough way, but now he was the third driver of Red Bull Racing, and he had enough time for Wednesdays of Ice cream.

“Hey Seb, how retiring treating you?”

“Very good, where is your lovebird?”

“Not my lovebird”

“Come on y/n, you two are bound to one another, you always have been, and I know he feels the same” 

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think he feels the same way” you replied

“Who? Daniel?” said Hanna joining the conversation “he is a fool for you” 

“Yep but y/n says he is not” Seb said telling his wife the context 

“I even thought you were dating, there is no way he doesn’t” she said

“Yeah, well he doesn’t” you said 

Max has won the Australia GP, and you’re at the hotel getting ready for the party when you heard a knock.

“Hi Dan” you said opening the door

“So I heard Lewis want to ask you out” he says while entering to the room.

What? Lewis? I mean he was cute, well hot, but you were more into a certain Australian “Really? Who you kn..” you couldn’t finish because you feel his lips against you. 

“Before you said anything I just want you to know I’ve always liked you, from the first moment I saw you at that Wednesday when we went to eat ice cream, and you order vanilla, and ever since that day I have hidden my feelings because I didn’t want to lose you, but now I heard Lewis want to ask you out, so I have to risk now because I know him, and I know that if you say yes to that date I will lose you forever so here I’m telling you everything and hoping you feel the same way y/n”  he lower his head as he finishes saying that, not wanting to look your reaction but instead of a push he feels your lips again.

“That means you like me too?”

“Of course you fool”

He started to smile, grab your hand and run while yelled “Come on, let’s grab some ice cream to commemorate this moment” 

[cyberkitty1]

E!42 miles x thick/chubby black reader Part 2

Part 1

warnings: lowercase intended, mean family members

she walkes up eyeing miles like he was a prey and she was hunting him down, not before looking st you with utter disgust. “ not sure how ou could pull someone like this” she days looking at miles smiling “ and eho are you?” she says sweetly, way to sweetly.

“ miles” he says plainly “ no need to be salty! you can come with me so your not as sad, how bout it?” something inside you snapped, why was she always picking on you? its not like she looked any better, she looked like wendy williams post rehab.

“ no he wouldn’t sorry” she looks over at you “ i dont think i was talking to you?” “yea just like he dosent want to talk to you, if you dont mind, or even if you do could you leave?” she scoffs “ and who do you think your talking to miss piggy? why dont YOU leave? i thought you’d be gone by now!” she laughs as if you havnt heard it before.

“ oh you want me to leave? sure ill leave just like your 4 baby daddies that dont even pay child support might i add” the whole party was looking at you guys now, music turned down

“ you know its crazy how ive sat here all these years getting bullied by you but atleast i can keep a man! girl you get pregnant every year! arnt you on baby number 6? that baby bump is more visible than that volcano on your face” miles looked at you in utter shock “ how old are you again? 25?! have you ever heard of condoms or birth control?” at this rate she might as well left because everyone was snikering and laughing “ and dont even get me started on your lifted lace and chunky make up, i may not be skinny but atleast i know my shade, you walk in here lookin like that one james charles meme DONT play with me today”

everyone goes silent she just looks at you dumbfounded “if you have anything else to say, say it now or forever hold your peace” you say one last time before she scoffs rolls her eyes and walks off.

everyone kind of goes back to normal and miles just looks at you “ ive never seen you like this before” he says looking you in your eyes “ yea, sorry i just got fed up-“ “ hey you don’t have to apologize it was actually kinda hot” you laugh a little “ thank you miles” before you can bask in the radiant feeling your aunt, your cousins mom walks up to you

“ now who do you think you are talking to my baby like that?” you look at her dumb founded “ are you kidding me? you guys only talk down on me and now you have the utter audacity to walk up to me and ask why i’m treating your daughter how her and you have been treating me for YEARS?” you pause

“ you know there is absolutely nothing stopping me form dragging you too, you’re built like your constantly taking a big breath, you got the worst camel toes i have ever seen in my ENTIRE life and now i know where your daughter gets the “have a ton of baby daddies to the point where you dont know who the father is “attitude. that reminds me arnt you pregnant with your 10th child? and your 9th baby daddy? thats a world record somehow. you should call Nick Canon up here, y’all would make great friends.”

“ don’t ever talk down on me again or there will be consequences” you say finally before grabbing miles hand and leaving the party. miles stands next to his car looking at you absolutely dumbfounded “ what?” you ask confused “ you just dragged yo auntie in front of everyone! what do you mean what? ive never seen you stand up for yourself like this i’m proud of you” he says giving you a kiss on the cheek.

i just imagine you doing that like ugly giggle he loves lmao

.

.

.

🏷️ @soseoulol @shoyofroyoyoyo @pandoragalora @miles-42-morales @heavisdelulu @lilcassipuff @levanneisdumb @thebaddest @sussybaka10 @itsznanabanana @malllywally @missyysyx @c4nth3lp1t @sgmianne @miles4hour @ulovejayy @onginlove @buckleyverse @lexixiii @swaqlover @yoursidehismain @florencepughswife030196 @lethycia @edgyficuselastica @druiggf @onsimpshii @lovely-horror-show @vivsamortentia @leighs-gallery @remuslupinsno1slut @steve-harringtons-bitch @shurisbbymama @bunnybabylovesstuff @karmascute @c4rine @janaeby @mookiebutt @paraccosm @zkristuz @reflectionsinrealtime @mindymeeksrules @nagi3seastorm @popeheywardssecretgf @be3_Fl0w3er @piopio @hoodypunpurri @hiyoo-o @enchanting-violet @inluvwithneteyam

if y’all think this is cringe lmk so i can remake it lmao

[kremlin]

it really is alarming how bizzare and erratic and nonsensical my behaviors and actions have become and how much of a complete weirdo i am, not in a fun quirky way nor a dangerous and mentally ill way, it is certainly negative and probably a symptom of much more pedestrian but nonetheless very serious problems like a lifelong hardcore drug addiction and lifestyle that would make a doctors eyes pop out of his skull. i haven’t exactly been to a statistically significant number of psychotherapists to make a sample size but certainly a good amount of them, the more straightforward ones have admitted they do not know which direction to go anymore and all of them licensed to write prescriptions have stated that my issues are not something medication is suitable or feasible to address. when i wrote that post a few weeks ago about how my life has been a failure despite zero hardship and every possible advantage, i don’t think i made it clear that this isn’t upsetting from a “boo hoo i am sad” perspective but a “i could have absolutely and meaningfully contributed to society with my skills but i didn’t”. those words i wrote were absolutely true and after re-read and consideration things might be even fucking darker, the only fucking thing i want anymore, more than i’ve wanted anything in my entire life, is my own family and it’ll never happen for categories of reasons, you can’t be a deadbeat junkie and expect to have a healthy family, you cannot treat people the way i treat people and expect them to just put up with it forever, you cannot expect to meet women that are going to love you and want to start a family being in the shape i am and *certainly* not women that are able to have kids and still roughly around my age. it would be frankly a seriously unethical move to waste their time frankly because even a basic relationship probably won’t work out.

i’ve never in my life been as social and outgoing and fun as i am right now, never been closer to my parents and extended family, and never felt this lonely by a mile, even when i was in school and would go months without a meaningful non-coursework non-job-related interaction with someone.

it’s so fucking frightening and i am so sick of being this miserable and i don’t know what the fuck to do about it and the closer i look the blurrier it gets. this is a new thing in my life, i’ve never really even been upset for longer than 3 days. i think before this last year. i don’t know if what happened last autumn just completely broke me or the camels back. and please for the love of god do not think for a moment i am about to do the things usually suspected of people who say things like i am saying because i am not and feel embarrassed that i have to write that.

[thatonefatgumsimp]

Which Secret Life POVs I've Watched So Far (will be updated and edited as I finish)

OK so I may or may not have gotten distracted again- oops- but basically I'm putting here which POVs I've already watched in full and what my first thought about each one was.

-WARNING: wall of texts and ramblings from an mcyt obsessed audhd under the cut...and also spoilers. Don't click unless you're ready for simultaneously spoilers and an ungodly amount of text lol-

Grian: "God this series is so hype I can't wait to see what all happens and- OMG GEM IS HERE! :D GEM IS GREAT! I can't wait to see her kick Etho's ass at PvP again /lh ...waiminute...is that logo on the statue...is that the Watcher logo??? Huh??? Wait...and why does it have the same mossiness of the Entity and Grian's s9 base? Suspicious...OMG the chaotic Best Friend energy with Mumbo and Grian- tbh would be me and my best friend on any given day. Amazing. Their laughter is so infectious too lmao- Oough merch! Pretty :3 Wait it's over already? Aweeeeh ): can't wait for the next episode tho!"

Mumbo: "Wait he switched sides of the circle when Martyn punched Jimmy lmaoooo just like 'these people are crazy, save me, Grian-' 💀 The best friend energy omg still amazing I love their dynamic so much! Ooh a sideways house that *IS* an interesting idea! WHY DOES JIMMY KEEP BREAKING THE CRAFTING TABLES LMAO Hmmmmm Impulse ik cherry blossom is great, but that salesman voice is indeed very sus. I'm with Mumbo on this one."

Skizz: "Idk I watched it when I was very tired last night and all I remember is 'Awwweh a frog! Take care of him...WH- TANGO!!!' and also him apologizing to Gem which was very nice. Oh yeah and love island <3"

Jimmy: "Alright, Timmy, you've got this. Just don't die and- OMG MARTYN NOOOO LMAOO- Aweeeh it's like when you have a really young sibling or you're, like, a parent or something and you kiss the child's scraped knee to make it feel better- 🥺 wholesome. THANK YOU! I thought I was alone in recognizing that symbol, thank you for acknowledging it. JIMMY LOOK OUT OMG YOU'RE GONNA GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK! OK but the task. This man is an absolute menace lol. Aweh that's very nice of Scar to compliment Jimmy's outfit! SCOTT LMFAOOOO YOU'RE SO RIGHT, BUT AT THE SAME TIME 💀 Jimmy building in the Mesa? Tumble Town 2 electric boogaloo?? 'Hmmmm if Scar's building a shack, we're gonna have to have a shack-off, mine's better.' NO JIMMY DON'T STEAL THE CAMEL! D: pftttt Scar would- remember the Relation-ship? And the Ranch? Arson boy lol. THE VALLEY GIRL ACCENT I CAN'T- 😭"

Scar: "OK, Scar, you can do the task, I believe in you. I've seen 4 other POVs which prove that you failed, but I still believe in you. OMG THAT'S WHY HE COMPLIMENTED JIMMY'S OUTFIT LMAOOO I WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION- So true, Scott. So true. But you can't stop them, they're still gonna end up neighbors. I know, I already watched Jimmy's POV. SCAR NOOOO YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL THEM- The way he jumped in the water- 💀 hc that c!Scar shook out his long-ish messy brown hair like a dog after that. Cuz he would. 'I'll make an exception for you. The first and ONLY exception.' if someone doesn't use this as, like, a fanfic title or something I swear- literally perfect material for a c!Scarian fic title. AWEEEEEEH HE CALLED GRIAN THE LIGHT OF HIS LIFE- I CAN'T BHATGLFYSJBJSRSKBLBK 🥺 Scar just like 'y'all crazy. Bye.' AWEEEEH GRIAN AND SCAR'S CAMEL RIDE! DESERTDUODESERTDUODESERTDUODESERTDUO! The way they stare at the hole Big B dug like *insert surprised Pikachu here* awwwwweh the way he let Grian have the cactus monopoly 🥺 you will never not convince me that bullying is their love language. c!desertduo bullies each other affectionately...I'm so normal about c!desertduo I promise- HE TALKED ABOUT ASOKA FOR 30 MINUTES OFC HE DID- 💀😭 I was wondering why he didn't include it lmao- NOT SCAR TREATING THE CAMEL LIKE A DISNEY RIDE LOL learning about the task goodies with Tango, Jimmy, and Scar 101 'IS IT A ROCKET' LMAOOOOO- HE'S SUFFOCATING AGAIN- SCAR BE CAREFULLLLL!!! Ik it's not in the comments, but, I GOT TO THIS POINT AND I'M ENJOYING IT, SCAR! Love this series sm and I'm only 5 POVs in lol. 'It's looking kinda like a shack' 'fancy house and exotic materials' indeed, Etho. Also yes, Scar, part of what gave it away is that ur favorite color is orange lol /lh the fact that Jimmy is the only one I've seen to call him 'Obi' when he says 'Hello There'- amazing. 'Nonono it's not a shack, look at that entrance!' But, Scar, you just said- ...OK- 'this is my shack' OK, Scar I'm confused. Is it or isn't it a shack? Ofc he cut out the arson threats and allegations smh /lh 'until next time, we'll see you later, and don't forget to subscribe because you may just become. SCARRRRED FOR LIFE!' ...yes I've memorized his outro-"

Martyn: "Wait OK before we start- are we sure that punching Jimmy didn't just, like, transfer the canary's curse? /lh like it could also be that he won last series and now he's the 'wet cat' of the first episode like I saw in another post, but like, what if?? I guess we'll see, huh? The awkward 'goodbye' and then walking the same way lmaooo 💀 Lizzie and Gem: 'WE HAVE TO GET TO THE CHERRY BLOSSOMS!' Martyn: 'uhhhhh anyways so-' what am I gonna get? Well uhhh probably one of the life hoodies, but I'll probably have to convince my mom to get it as a Christmas gift cuz I already spent a lot in the last month cuz I have no self control- but yeah probably the balloon hearts hoodie or the drippy hearts one. Love those. 'Ofc no wearing helmets' Scar, who has a helmet: 'Hi, Martyn!' 'oh mY GOd you scared me-' Payback for the jumpscare to Grian last series /lh /hj 'friends?' 'friends?' 'friends?' 'Helloooooo!' 'Martyn!' Idk why but that interaction made me exhale like- just imagine shouting through the walls in a cave to your friends irl. Omg now I'm imagining it with the reverb- 'you couldn't spare a heart, could you?' gives off the vibes of 'please sir, could I have some more?' Oliver Twist who? /lhj Bdubs and his chainmail lol 'THERE'S A SPAWNER?!' yeah...he's definitely having a rough first session- o7 'what is happening out there-?' I'd like to know too, Martyn, unfortunately I haven't watched their POVs yet. Also Etho saying 'BDUBS RUN! HIDE!' I- I'm normal about c!Ethubs I promise- 'YOU GOT HORSE ARMOR?!' ofc the local horsegirl /lhhj would ask about that lol- NOT ETHO TURNING INTO CANADIAN DAVID ATTENBOROUGH AND NARRATING HIS, MARTYN'S, AND BDUBS' ADVENTURES THROUGH THE CAVE- I- 💀 'this could go viral' true, Bdubs lol. BDUBS' MIC CUTTING OUT I'M CRYING- Gem's reaction of 'a what?!' and Scott's response of 'we just don't have a healer' is just perfect lol. Love that. WE'RE PLAYING THE MARTYN GETS NERFED MOD! TODAY WE CODED IT SO ALL THE MOBS ATTACK MARTYN AND ONLY MARTYN! that's the vibes Scott's comment gave me lol- 12 HEARTS?!? MARTYN!! OMG BE MORE CAREFUL!!! This Martyn nerf hitting hard- 'this could be really bad if I get poisoned-' YES IT COULD, MARTYN, YOU'RE ALREADY AT 12 HEARTS- IT'S LIKE YOU'RE TRYING TO BE THE FIRST TO YELLOW- /lh bro Martyn being risky is making my anxiety go 📈📈📈📈📈 BE MORE CAREFUL, MARTYN, PLS- I BEG OF U- MARTYN GOING TO THE NETHER- 📈📈📈 MARTYN THERE ARE GHASTS- PLEASE- I- AAAAAAAAAAAAA! MARTYNNNN! OMG! IS HE ALWAYS THIS RISKY, USUAL MARTYN VIEWERS?! CUZ IF SO IDT I'M GONNA SURVIVE BINGING ALL THE LIFE SERIES- 'ughhh I swear, dude, I swear, I'm gonna cry!!!' I AM TOO, PLEASE STOP GETTING INTO DANGER, MARTYN- Martyn saying damnit is me the whole time he's out risking his hearts. My heart can't take this kind of pressure, Martyn please stop being so riskyyyy- 😭 nINE HEARTS- MARTYN!!!! Istg I'm not surviving this episode- my heart is just- 📈📈📈📈📈📈📈 his pICKAXE BROKE?! OH YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! 'OH MY GOD, THE SUN!' I'M HAPPY TOO, HOPEFULLY HE DOESN'T LOSE TOO MANY MORE HEARTS. 'I've been to the nether and everything!' Yeah, imma be honest, I don't get that one. Like, didn't you write a song lITERALLY CALLED 'Screw The Nether' with friends????! /lh Lizzie's 'oh wow' 💀 fIVE AND A HALF HEARTS!! MARTYNNNN!!! OMG! 📈📈📈 NOT THE DROWNED- 😭 LEAVE HIM ALONE, BRUH, HE JUST TRYNA SURVIVE- Martyn panicking- same, bestie- Lizzie just like 'oh you stole my bed? Didn't notice' 💀 #1 way to tempt a horsegirl: offer something to protect his horse /lhj Cleo's laugh lol- infectious. MARTYN ZOOMING IN AND JIMMY JUST BRINGING BACK SCAR'S CAMEL IN THE BACKGROUND I CAN'T-"

OK I'm posting this and I'll rb for the other POVs, but Cleo's next.

So let's see, next rb is probably gonna be Cleo, Gem, Tango, Scott, Bdubs, and Pearl.

Third rb is probably gonna be Etho, Joel, Lizzie, Impulse, and BigB.

3 maybe 4 rb max.

[justcallmesolll]

My silly little top tens

yeen rambles #10

stealing this idea from the wonderful @whitestorm4prez bc originality is dead!!!!!!!!!!

anyways ive only read the first arc but most of the major shit was spoiled for me on the internet.

#10 Thrushpelt. i love him!! he's such a nice guy. i feel really bad for him for his one-sided love of Bluestar. she missed out frfr. but even when Bluestar makes it super clear she doesnt like him, does he hold a grudge? no. does he resent her? no. what does he do? become her friend instead. amazing man.

#9 Darkstripe. i think he's both the most hilarious and fucking balling my eyes out sad villain ever at the same time. dude just got fucked over most of his life. i mean i find him sily because every time he tries something, it fails horribly. but at the same time, he's got fucking no-one. he's alone. no friends, nothing. the one guy he trusted with his life turns out to not even care about him at all. i mean seeing him scramble to revive what little there is left of tigerstars plan, seeing everyone leave him, him realising that nobody was truly on his side. his last moments preaching for a dead man who never cared for him. his life being over like that. he never did anything meaningful, and he died like that. im gonna write more abt this a some point but yea!!

#8 Tallstar. his character arc is one of the most heartwarming things ever. yes, he was a shitty leader, but do ya know what? he grew as a person. he changed and made himself better. i also think him and Jake r cute and i LOVE the headcannon that he thought fireheart was jake coming to save him and his clan.

#7 Bluestar. RIGHT OK. i know i say i hate her but by god how can i not like her at the same time???? i mean all her life was just horrible shit. and she stuck through it. i know she was a real bitch coming towards the end of her life, but she stayed, stone faced and understanding to most cats around her. tigerclaw was just the straw that broke the camel's back. but most of her life she was so awesome.

#6 Cloudtail. i think hes such a silly guy!!! he's a big hot-headed atheist!!! silly guy. him and brightheart are so cute together. and yea thats it literally hes just silly thats why i like him

#5 Longtail. I LOVE HIM SM OMGGG the fan service he gets is so good. but the most important thing is his character arc. from being a bully, but all round loyal cat, to desprately trying to prove his loyalty to firestar by any means possible. longtail thinks that firestar sees him as disloyal, but firestar proves him wrong, asking him to come on the journey with him the relationship between them is so nice to see.

#4 Greystripe. what a guy. hes amazing. he puts up with firheart way more than he should have to. i mean fire is a straight up dick to him alot of the time and he sticks with him like a loyal friend. i love him hehehe

#3 Ashfur. if u cant tell already, i like villains. i like Ashfur alot actually. cant help feeling bad for him. mans had a rough time. grew up without a mother, was practically ignored by his mentor, when he finally found someone who gave him a little attention who does undeniably treat him like her mate, she just turns around and goes "yeah no lol i was just w u to make brambleclaw jealous lmao." he was plunked right on his head and left alone with no-one to care about him. the only person who slightly cared about him was his sister, and she was too caught up in her own shit to help. its the sticky feeling you have knowing that if he were just cared for right, he could have turned out just fine. instead, he was neglected and left to become what he did.

#2 Hawkfrost. i love the fan service hawk gets honestly. im a huge fan of the artwork he gets. hes cool. i like the idea of him feeling the need to prove himself to his father. but yea hes just cool thats why i like him tbh.

#1 to absolutely no-ones surprise, my #1 fave warriors character, is SOL. hes so silly. but no fr, hes the funniest fucking villain ever. he sucks ass at being a fucking warrior and he comes accross the clans and is just like "yea yk what im gonna fuck with em." he literally gaslight gatekeep girlbosses all 4 of the clans and he actually gets away with it. i also just like his whole asthetic, and THE FUCKING FAN SERICE HE GETS???? HOLY SHIT ITS SO COOL. i swear you cant make Sol fanart look bad bc hes just so fuckin cool. silly little guy!!

[ariaxjohnson]

if you’re hearing DON'T KILL MY VIBE by SIGRID playing, you have to know ARIA JOHNSON (SHE/HER; CIS WOMAN) is near by! the TWENTY FIVE year old BARTENDER has been in denver for, like, TWO YEARS. they’re known to be quite IMPULSIVE, but being ASSERTIVE seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble KRISTINE FROSETH. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those LATE NIGHT PHONE CALLS, ESCAPE PLANS & SPONTANEOUS ROAD TRIPS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the RINO DISTRICT long enough!

Musings // Pinterest // Playlist

S T A T I S T I C S

GENERAL

NAME: Aria Johnson AGE: 25 HEIGHT: 5'6 BIRTHDAY: August 20th OCCUPATION: Bartender at Hell & High Water

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC: Leo sun, Scorpio moon, Gemini Rising MBTI: ESTP - T ENNEAGRAM: 8w7 POSITIVE TRAITS: assertive, adventurous, confident NEGATIVE TRAITS: impulsive, impatient, reticent

HEALTH

ALCOHOL: Often DRUGS: occasionally PHYSICAL: n/a PSYCHOLOGICAL: BPD, PTSD, C-PTSD

M I S C / F U N F A C T S

- There is not a single Sigrid or CHVRCHES song that Aria doesn't relate to - Very much a "leave before get left" approach to life - Would absolutely carry vodka in a waterbottle, and what of it - Honestly takes pride in how aloof and guarded she is. Kind of treats it as a game sometimes, finding amusement in people trying to "figure her out" - yet still desperately wants someone to understand her even though she self sabotages so much they eventually get tired of her games - expect many late night texts if you're friends w/ her a;sdgja - so. much. anger

W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S

- Drinking buddies - Ex's (romantic or platonic!) - Confidants - Childhood friends (that likely lost touch) - Friends she used to live with (would be right after high school, a group of friends moved in together and had a huge falling out, which was the spark for Aria to pack up and move to Denver) - Found Family vibes !!!!!! - And really anything else!

B I O G R A P H Y:

( TW: Abandonment, Emotional abuse, Grooming, Suicidal ideation/attempt )

TLDR: Aria was a competitive figure skater and an olympic hopeful. However, between the pressure her mother placed on her, the muddied boundaries between her and her coach, the fall right before the Olympic trials was merely the last straw that broke the camel's back. She found Denver to be an escape from all of the pressure and expectation.

Aria used to joke that she learned how to ice skate before she learned how to walk. As far back as she could remember, prodigy, a natural, Olympic hopeful were all labels orbiting around her. Her entire world revolved around the ice. When she wasn't actively competing, she was rigorously training. Sleep was the only break she'd get from skating, and she'd still be perfecting every technique in her dreams. Before long, several competitions in, she established a reputation for herself for her relentless precision, almost feeling more machine than human. And with her growing success, she began to realize she'd only hear from her father, who left before Aria could form any meaningful memories of him, when she won something. Yet no matter how many competitions she finished first in, or how exceptional her score was, there was always something to criticize. At least, that was how she rationalized her mother screaming and shouting behind closed doors, ridiculing and degrading her for every tiny mistake, even ones that the judges themselves didn't even seem to notice.

Her coach, on the other hand, couldn't cease to sing her praises. Always asking her to demonstrate for the others, being the first to teach her more advanced techniques, and expressing more pride than she ever had felt from her mother. Yet even with the pedestal he put her on, she felt like he was the only one who still treated her like a person. He understood things at home were difficult, an understatement at best, and he would lend an ear to any vents she needed to get off her chest. In time, he trusted her with his own burdens and troubles at home. Conflicts with his wife, excusing and problem solving ways to hide his own infidelity, and more. None of which he should have looked for support from a child. Even as boundaries started to waver, Aria couldn't comprehend the red flags. Not only was she a child, but one who lacked any sense of comfort or nurture from the one who was supposed to love her the most in the entire world. He made her feel important. As though she had a place in the world. As though she mattered.

Her peers training alongside her began to be more perceptive to his favoritism. Some took it out on Aria herself, whereas others were more confused and occasionally concerned. Unbeknownst to Aria, her coach shifted in his treatment towards her. At least, publicly. Calling her on each mistakes loud enough for people on the other side of the country to hear, with so much contempt that she couldn't help but wonder at times if he and her mother exchanged notes on how to cut her down most efficiently. Yet, whenever they were alone, his sweet, caring persona would be back. He'd even explain to her that the others didn't understand, and he couldn't have them get the wrong idea. She bought the excuse, even as it formed a strange pit in her stomach - tying into knots as it felt like she was a secret. Still, she just reminded herself that he didn't really mean it every time he made her feel like the dirt under his shoe that he was trying to scrape off anytime they were in the presence of others.

At fifteen, she could start to see a light at the end of the tunnel, after putting her blood sweat and tears into training. The Olympic trials were right around the corner, and she felt more confident than ever. Her coach even was easing up on her. She finally felt like she was doing something right. However, during practice, after hours and hours of overexerting herself, she missed her landing, her ankle bending in a way she never knew it could before, and let out a harrowing yelp. And for as much pain as she was in, she wouldn't be able to recall it if she tried to retell the story present day - the only pain she could remember was every cruel word that felt like spears piercing through her from her coach. After a while, his voice became muffled - in fact, everything did… it was like she had slipped underwater and she was just hearing indistinguishable shouts from above the surface. Until finally, she couldn't take it anymore, and she took off her skates, and stormed out - or as best as she could with a sprained ankle, more so hopping than anything.

When she got outside, she had no incline as to where she wanted to go, just anywhere but there. And the adrenaline coursing through her veins failed to remember the rink leading directly to a busy intersection. Was she so out of it that she couldn't perceive the cars zipping down the road? Or did she just not care? Either way, she woke up to fluorescent overhead lights, persistent beeping of monitors, and a nurse informing her that she was lucky to be alive. The entire duration of the time she was in casts, her mother could hardly stand to look at her. As if she was the one who worked so hard and dedicated her entire life to this one dream that shattered along with the bones in her body. Aria was lost… Knowing it'd be a miracle if she ever got herself to skate again, and impossible to ever perform as well as she had before, she didn't know who she was anymore.

She started staying out late, going to any party she could find only to go to school hungover having slept barely an hour. Teachers noticed her shift and were understandably concerned. But no matter how many times the counselors would try to get through to her, she was intent on her mission to self destruct. After spending so much of her life maintaining a perfect image to satisfy those who didn't know the meaning of the word, it felt liberating to let herself fall apart for everyone to see.

Having no interest in continuing her education to college, Aria moved in with a few friends and lived paycheck to paycheck with any minimum wage jobs they could find. Yet drama ensued, as she was beginning to realize it inevitably did wherever she seemed to go. With the money she saved, she moved out and ventured in search of a place where no one knew her and there were no ghosts from her past, finding that haven in Denver, Colorado when she was twenty three.

[amtrak12]

Possible Ending for Pushing Daisies

Thesis Notes:

Apologies, but this will not include screencaps to demonstrate my theories. I have other things I want to devote my energy to today, but still needed to get these thoughts out.

I will be using the word "artifact" in the Warehouse 13 sense of the word, aka: an object of human construction that has been imbued with unexplainable, and thus treated as magical, abilities. These abilities typically include an inconvenient or even dangerous downside.

Literally no idea what Bryan Fuller, et all ever said about their intentions for the show if it hadn't been canceled or if they ever said anything post-cancellation. I am working entirely off the canon text here.

Introduction:

Obviously, Pushing Daisies ended before it could reveal what its long term goals for the story were. Did they want to solve Ned and Chuck's issues with touch? Did they want to explain where Ned's powers came from? Were they ever going to explicitly admit to what they implied about the people (and animals) Ned kept alive being immortal???

Absolutely no idea and we can never know for sure. However, they did leave clues and untied plot strings, primarily with the history of Dwight Dixon, Charles Charles, and Ned's father (who was never given a name) and the pocket watches Dwight desperately wanted to find.

Now given the slow roll of these plot points and the deliberate mystery surrounding them, I suspect whatever that trio got up to was the long term plot. And for it to be the long term plot of Pushing Daisies, then presumably it would address the premise of the show, aka Ned's powers to wake the dead.

Foundation Theory:

Dwight, Charles, and Ned's father came across some valuable artifact during their time in the UN Peace Corp, stole it, and divided it up into three equal pieces that they hid in the pocket watches. (Alternatively, they hid the artifact somewhere and divided the map to the hidden location up into three equal pieces.) This artifact is responsible for Ned's powers.

Evidence:

The picture of the three men in the Blue Berets shows them on camels in the desert. This doesn't have to mean Egypt, however Egyptian curses are a very common motif, and Pushing Daisies loved taking story cliches and putting an exaggerated fantasy spin on them. The camels and desert was absolutely chosen on purpose which means it's relevant which means it shows where the men were when they at least bought the pocket watches.

So we have pocket watches and some version of an Egyptian curse. We also have Ned's father leaving after Ned's mother and Charles Charles died, which is important, not only for Ned's backstory, but as insight into his father's motivations.

Detailed Theory:

I posit that the three men knew of the dangerous repercussions when they took this artifact. Maybe it came with a written warning, maybe there was a legend about it, etc. Did the men understand the details of this danger? No. Did they even believe the warning? Well, certainly not enough to stop them from stealing it.

I don't believe they stole this artifact for power. I don't think they believed it was magical in any way. There was not one minuscule hint at any of these men having or tying to obtain magical powers, and Dwight was genuinely shocked at Ned bringing Charles back to life. I think the men were after money. Dwight would certainly be after money most after spending twenty years in jail, so his actions support this theory. Sell one piece of the artifact? Make a nice chunk of change. Sell the entire artifact at once? Make a fortune.

Ned's Powers:

Two ways this can go. Option A: Stealing the artifact, triggered the "curse" to go into effect. Like how the replacement victim when Ned keeps a dead person alive longer than a minute is a random proximity thing, the curse was a random proximity thing and landed on Ned. Option B: Breaking the artifact into three pieces, separated its powers from the object and -- again through random proximity -- the powers landed on Ned. I personally like option B, but I'm a WH13 girlie and your mileage may vary.

Ned's Father:

I think Ned's father knew about his powers. Maybe not before Ned's mother and Chuck's father died (most likely not before), but certainly after. When it happened, he remembered the warning about the artifact, put that information together, felt guilty, and then shipped Ned off to boarding school to try and forget it ever happened (hence the second family).

But it did happen and his father could never really put that guilt behind him. So, he abandoned his second family to dig into the artifact and figure out the curse, while also keeping a distant eye on Ned.

End Game of the Show:

Taking all of this to be true, then the end game would be for Ned and Chuck to learn about what their fathers stole and learn what Ned's dad has dug up about the artifact and curse. Then comes the decision: Do they collect the pieces and restore the artifact to its rightful place? It seems like an easy decision, but it does bring up the following hiccups. Would returning the artifact take away Ned's powers? Does he want his powers to be gone when he's just started to accept them as a super power? It's one thing to choose not to use them and another to not have them at all. Would he be able to touch Chuck if he didn't have his powers anymore or is that something already set into motion and his second touch would still kill her no matter what? Or, worse yet, would Chuck die the instant they returned the artifact?

Adding to the conflict is Ned's father who has done all this research and still sees Ned's powers as a clear-cut upside. A gift, ultimately, and not a curse at all. He doesn't want to return the artifact and isn't willing to handle over his piece of it in the pocket watch. "Look at all the people you've helped! The victims you got justice for, the families you helped find closure. You were able to bring Chuck back to life! You're going to risk throwing that away?" The words just fuel Ned's doubts and guilt. Because there has been good from it. He has helped people, and what if Chuck did die again?

But it was built on something wrong. So he and Chuck ultimately decide (together, of course, as always) that they don't want to live with that and choose to return the artifact. Again, you have two options here: they could convince Ned's father it's the right thing to do and he hands over his piece of the artifact OR he continues to disagree with them and they have to steal his piece from him and go behind his back to return it. It depends on whether you want to give Ned's father a redemption arc or not. Personally, I do not. :P Leave redemption to shows like Lucifer and The Good Place. I am here for technicolor spite.

Happy Ending:

Returning the artifact takes away Ned's powers, but it does not undo anything he did with those powers. The people who died (the funeral director, Dwight) are still dead. The people who are alive again (Chuck, Digby, Charles), are still alive.

But no longer immortal. The immortality was an extension of Ned's powers. No powers, no immortality. Both Digby and Chuck will now age again.

And both can be touched by Ned without dying. :) Relief! Happy ending! But earned, I feel. Even when I was watching it brand new, I definitely wanted them to be able to touch again because it ached so much, but I also didn't want it to be for random reasons, like the consequences wore off after 'x' amount of time. The journey I listed above is indeed a journey, and thus doesn't feel random to me.

Closing Thoughts:

I like how this integrates the loose threads in the show. I like what it says about the damage and trauma parents can pass on to their children and how it doesn't have to be intentional to leave lasting scars. Depending on how you frame the artifact theft, you can even do commentary on colonization, land back, and reparations.

And no, I don't think Chuck's father will suddenly start decaying the moment they return the artifact. This show uses the cartoon logic of a wagon of hay being enough to avoid injury after falling multiple stories out of a bell tower. So, even though Charles was dead and buried for twenty years and presumably has no internal organs because they would've done an autopsy at the time of his mysterious death, he will continue to live and age like normal, just with a permanent corpse face. :P

[nancypullen]

82 Days Until Halloween!

That has nothing to do with this post, I'm just excited about it. Eighty-two days, some of which will be spent on vacation, will fly! I have absolutely nothing to post about, there's nothing happening at Casa de Pullen. I wake up, make the bed, do my stretches and stuff, scoop the kitty litter, sometimes start a load of wash, and then head downstairs. Rinse and repeat.

I'm fortunate that I get to look out of this window while I make breakfast. Hummingbirds and bumble bees zip around the blooms and it's the best show in town.

I'd planned to cut down some of the sunflowers that are already drying and drooping, but the yellow finches have arrived and love them. I can't deprive them of their favorite treat. Brace yourself for some out of focus bird pictures. This was snapped from inside the car as I pulled in from the grocery store. There's a little yellow finch lunching on those sunflowers by the porch. I waited to get out of the car so I wouldn't scare him away.

I do sometimes snip one of the flowers to sit in this sweet bud vase (a gift from a kind friend in TN). Sunflowers are so cheerful.

I moved the hummingbird feeder to the front flower bed so that I can enjoy their antics while I sit at my desk making whatever I'm making that day. Turns out it's very hard to get a photo from inside, through a window and a screen, of a very fast birdie. There he is, hovering just over the feeder. There are a couple that battle for the hooch and they're fierce!

As you can see, nothing much has changed. I'm still watching birds and bees. There's a fat woodchuck that wanders around our yard occasionally, that's it for wildlife. This guy...

loves hanging out at our house. Pardon my muddy garden shoes, and yes, that's a bowl of water that I put out for the our visitor. It would have been rude not to offer refreshments. This is like a flashback of how my romance with Willie started. Apparently I'm a magnet for big ol' chunky boys. His collar says he lives two houses down, but I think we're due some child support or at least daycare fees. Who am I kidding? Send me all the cats. I'll feed them for free and love them until they beg for mercy.

Other than bird, bee, and cat watching, I've been busy making earrings and trying to get ready for Artisans on the Choptank. It's going to be embarrassing if nothing sells. You'll all get boxes of earrings for Christmas. I also painted the vanity in the Halloween bathroom. Flooring goes in tomorrow - hooray! The master bath vanity is just a creamy color, but since the Halloween bathroom is a more whimsical, jolly sort of room, I went with a shade of greeny-gray. Best of all, I found pumpkin knobs to add to the doors!

Here's the vanity color...(pardon my mess)

and these are the knobs (you can see them on the counter).

How cute is that? I'll be so glad to have these bathrooms finished. I want to paint for fun again! I'll share pics of the completed bathrooms tomorrow when the banging stops and the dust settles. So there you have it. My very small, probably boring to others, life. Quiet days, but they're filled with creativity, and that makes me content. We'll have the grandgirl for the weekend so things will liven up around here soon. We're taking her to Workhorse Farm to pet kangaroos and meet camels. Then we'll hang around the house and let her swim in her "mermaid lagoon", we'll have popcorn and movie nights, and we'll be thoroughly exhausted when we give her back. It's a good kind of tired. I hope that you're enjoying a balance of fun and peacefulness. We need both, don't we? A lack of either takes a toll. I'm off to soak in the tub and look at that ugly floor for the last time. Sending out loads of love. XOXO, Nancy

[roobylavender]

i mean most abusers do love the people they abuse. abuse isn’t something done with intention or malice half the time, it’s done by people thinking they’re doing the right thing. bruce’s love and need for control are constantly in conflict with each other and that’s why the robins are stuck waging a war against him. i feel like a big part of a dysfunctional parent-child dynamic is feeling trapped by your parent’s love. Even if you hate it, it’s still canon that Bruce has been historically bad with dealing with his kids. Half of them don’t even feel comfortable calling him dad cuz the relationship seems so undefined or shaky. In Dick’s case i feel like he has no grounds to oppose robin and his vigilantism because Bruce (deep down) loved having someone like dick around to fight crime with. They both refer that time as “the good old days” so it’s not like Bruce was truly opposed. It’s only when the actual reality of that negligent and naive behaviour materialises that he realises he fucked up (robin year one eg). Then he treats Dick in such a cold manner that Dick believes if he’s not robin, he’s not wanted. This has been a pattern since the golden days so no it’s not ooc for Bruce. Yes the natural conclusion to all the modern day tension should be for both parties to meet and resolve their issues but Bruce is still the abuser at the end of the day, and even though Dick’s self sacrificing nature might easily forgive him, on a textual level it should be clear that a true resolution between the two would need Dick to dig deeper, and for Bruce to be ready for rejection from his son.

i don’t disagree with that assessment of abuse like it’s absolutely true, but my problem is i don’t think the cold or controlling behavior is really a consistent enough pattern until we move into post-crisis canon. for several decades dick and bruce have a great rapport with each other bc that’s what everyone knows they’re supposed to have. like i don’t think most writers from the golden or silver age if asked that they intended to write bruce as an abuser would agree and say yes, and that distinction to me is impt, bc sure, we can take what we’re reading on a surface level and project our own experience or modern understanding of relationships onto it, but i don’t think that should happen to the extent authorial intent is superseded bc then you start to enter territory where you’re divorcing narrative from genre conventions. if we go by the assumption that bruce is an enabler and abuser for allowing dick to be a hero for so long without purported attention paid to his safety then that establishes practically every hero within the universe possessive of a sidekick as an abuser. and i do get that some people are interested in following that thread like esp in post-crisis we see that exploration a lot but ig for me personally it’s kinda like the thing that breaks the camel’s back and withholds the entire genre from actually allowing itself to explore more pertinent issues. not to say abuse isn’t a pertinent issue, it absolutely is and i do think there’s ways it can still be explored, but the primary reason the genre was established in the first place was in response to fascism. obv the engagement with that wasn’t necessarily complex early on but it’s incredibly impt to the development of the genre and as we can see in a modern context how that response to fascism or lack thereof is conveyed can be incredibly influential in terms of facilitating support or not for fascist government. so my issue is like, yes, it’s impt for bruce’s faults in these relationships to be addressed to a constructive and worthwhile extent, but i also think writers have gone so drastically far in curating those faults in the post crisis era that it’s effectively restricted the scope of the stories they’re allowed to tell, bc they’re more focused on individual instances and relationships within this world than they are on any form of commentary that reflects the operations of the world at large in relation to regulation of crime

[thephoenixandthecrocodile]

Hello, it is me again, the random girl who got obsessed with Central Asian literature! Thank you so, so much for your fantastic reply - I have since started to read Bygone Days (the Mark Reese translation), and oh BOY do I have some thoughts for you. Before I get to that - I did a little literary tour through Central Asia, read Galsan Tschinag's "The Caravane" (I don't think there is an English translation available, I read it in German, but Tschinag gives an autobiographical account of how he collected his dispersed Tuvan-tribe members in the 1990s and, in a caravan of 139 camels, 140 people, and their livestock, spent 62 days returning to their home territory in West Mongolia) as well as the way more famous "Jamila" by Chingiz Aitmatov (the story of a Kyrgyz woman and her lover seen through the eyes of her step-brother) . Unfortunately, I could not digitally get my hands on the books I picked out for Kazakhstan and Tajikistan. BUT! The absolute fantastic Bygone Days. I am only halfway through due to delaying it with the other books in between, but I love it SO MUCH. I adore that Qoqiriy does not treat the reader as stupid and tells us straight up what's going on, leaving the characters (but not the reader!) in the dark about various events! I adore the writing style that Reese's translation reflects, and I LOVE realism as a book genre so I am absolutely in favour of the scope! While the "star crossed lovers" aspect did surprise me a bit (for some reason I expected something more heavy-handed), it was absolutely a positive surprise! I am delighted by the footnotes in the Reese version, they are extensive, and they truly open Uzbek culture up to me. I am in the middle of volume 2 at the moment, and Usta Alim and his story about his wife Saodat were my favourite chapter so far. I literally sobbed! I'm sorry for overwhelming you with my thoughts here, but Otabek (as he is called in this translation) is such an interesting character - with his flaws, and his gentle nature, and his little fits of temperament. I wish Kumush was featured more, but alas. From your fantastic recommendation list, the devil's dance and Amanat have caught my eyes in particular, and I will be on the hunt for those sooner rather than later! Again, apologies for clogging up your ask box and dear god I hope this ask sends, lol. Sending you best wishes and I am absolutely up for talking literature some more if you'd like!! <3

Hi! I'm so glad you are enjoying Bygone Days. I just wanted to let you know I saw your asks, but we had to put my dog down this weekend, so I'm taking a small break from social media to grieve. I'll definitely write a more in depth answer in a few days, but I also have so many thoughts about Otabek.

[diary-of-my-devil]

October 3rd, 2015

I was a few weeks shy of 14 and I’d had a hell of a year. My aunt’s death had been a wave of ice cold water on my system and my feelings were still frozen when I got the news that my grandpa had died. I didn’t cry when my dad came into my room to tell me the news. I just said “oh, okay” and continued on with whatever I was doing. 

I think it was a Sunday night when it happened. If it was, it was on the 20th of September. I always mix the date up, though. My reason for believing it was that day, specifically a Sunday, was because I remember going to school and telling my friends “yeah, we have Friday off of school, but I’ll be spending it at a funeral”. I was in that ICU waiting room eating Burger King onion rings hours before.

I think my mom was thinking heavily about going to a grief camp after my aunt, who you should know was not technically my aunt, but a close family friend, had died. My sisters were at the Detroit Zoo with my grandma when that had happened, my mom calling her to tell her the news and beg her to not tell them. My grandma is a bit of a loud mouth, in all honesty.

My grandpa’s death was sort of the defining factor for it, the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. After he had passed, after the funeral and the absolutely awful experience of that, she had brought up to me and my sisters that she wanted to help us, and that the zoo in my city was holding one for all ages and that she would like for us all to go.

I didn’t want to go. I really didn’t want to go. I was dealing with crippling anxiety that was not yet diagnosed, let alone treated, and insurmountable grief. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about it with a ton of strangers. I don’t know how I would’ve spent the time if I hadn’t gone, but I would’ve had more fun with that.

Mom threw out information about this grief camp for days leading up to it. How we would probably get free things (god, I’m a sucker for free shit), how they would provide food, how it would only be for a few hours. I didn’t agree to go until that morning. Ultimately, I wanted to make my mom happy.

It did make her happy, by the way.

By the way, I regret going.

It was October 3rd in the middle of Michigan. Apparently kids and parents from around the state had all come along to attend this event. It was held outside, under tents and while it was windy I think they had space heaters in the tents with us. We were split into age categories. I was allowed in the 14-17 group despite still being 13, because I was close enough. I was basically already 14, it just wasn’t official for another couple weeks, you know?

That’s when and where I met him.

There was nothing remarkable about him and his appearance. He looked like any other teenage boy in Michigan during that time. He had dirty blonde hair in what looked like a slightly grown out buzzcut, wore a hoodie and dark blue jeans with sneakers. He really wasn’t remarkable. I went to school with countless other guys that matched his style.

Apparently I was remarkable, though. To him at least.

It was weeks before I was able to cut all my hair off. I had to keep my long hair until after my aunt’s wedding, because it was long and beautiful and she had already hired someone to do our hair and had the consultation. I instead had it hidden in a bun underneath a beanie, grown out side bangs from my wannabe scene-kid haircut sticking out of the FBI hat I had gotten in DC months before.

I was wearing a leather jacket, I don’t recall what was underneath it though. For bottoms I was either wearing leggings or skinny jeans with slightly heeled boots. I don’t remember much about what I wore.

While he wasn’t remarkable, I knew something was going to happen. I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I believe you know when someone is going to have a large impact on your life from the first look. Whether or not it’s going to be good or bad was revealed in time.

We stuck by each other for a majority of the time, along with another girl in our age group. When I saw my mom later in the day she had looked relieved, that I had made some friends. We had exchanged numbers at the end of the event and all went our separate ways, I went home while they had gone to the cities they had come from.

Hours later, while I was out shopping with my grandma, I had gotten a call from a number that wasn’t saved in my phone. At the time, I didn’t have experiences that brought me dread at a mysterious phone number, so I answered. It was him.

I’m not naming him yet, simply because I don’t know if I want to. If I want to put his name out there and be at risk of legal action if someone puts the pieces together and identifies him, or use the nickname I’d used for him online when I’ve talked about these experiences.

We had small talk, most of which I can’t remember. I remember my grandma wondering who I was talking to. I recall him boldly asking me out, over the phone when we had only met just hours before. I remember telling him I didn’t know who or what I was into. That I didn’t know if I liked boys or girls or both.

He said that made me sexier. 

Like I had said previously, I was a doormat. Still kind of am, to be honest. I didn’t know how to say no anymore, considering I had already had my first experience with saying no and it being completely ignored. So, I did what any normal confused, sad teenager would do, and I said yes.

He wasn’t my first boyfriend, and not my last, but fuck he’s one of the more memorable ones for all of the wrong reasons. But we’ll get to that later. 

My first boyfriend was a friend I had since preschool. His family owned a bowling alley in a nearby town and he was a bit spoiled, if not certainly more wealthy than I was. He had a trampoline AND a pool! It was an easy relationship, despite my mental struggles during that time.

I had later found out he only asked me out because he was too nervous to ask out my friend, but we lasted about a year. I don’t regret the relationship and the times I spent at his house, with his family and our friends playing video games or fucking around on Omegle. I cringe, yes, but it’s not something I regret.

There was a boy I dated for a couple weeks not long after my breakup from my first boyfriend. A friend of mine, although not nearly as long as I had been with the first. He’s the one that didn’t know what the word “no” meant, but this is not about him. Yes, I do regret it.

So I had some experience with dating before him. Not much, not as much as many of my peers did, but this wasn’t my first time dating someone. This was different, yes, but not entirely new. While my two previous boyfriends had each lived a walking distance away, he was in a completely different town.

We were two young high schoolers who couldn’t drive, so it was going to be a semi-long distance relationship. Did I have feelings for him? No, not really, we had met and become friends just hours ago, but why not give it a shot? It couldn’t hurt, right?

Right?

So October 3rd of 2015 was when this whole shitshow of a relationship began. I regret this day more than any other. I wish I had stayed home, rotting in my bed with the lights off. I wish I was comfortable with letting him down gently. I wish I had never met him.

[thebabblingbrookenook]

First and foremost, thank you @fayes-fics. This was a much needed treat, and to have it drop on my birthday was the best surprise I’ve had in a long time. I appreciate you putting so much of your time and effort into this. It did not go unnoticed and I am lucky to have a friend in you ❤ - Thank you for not giving up on it. I know my requests can be a bit much sometimes, but it is only because I have COMPLETE confidence that you can deliver beautifully on the content in question. And thank you @colettebronte for encouraging her! 

I apologize in advance if this review gets a little lengthy haha. I just have a lot to say.

What a perfect way to wake up! Anthony Bridgerton, all tussled and grinning. The way you described that morning snuggle, snaking an arm around his warm torso, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible. ACCURATE. I don’t think I would ever stop craving him lol

The morning breath exchange was such a cute, subtle way of establishing how in tune with each other they really are as a couple. The fact that he knew her mind was worrying about her breath when he dodged her kiss, but then immediately reassured her that he VERY much wants her... Communication is sexy haha. And the way that man absolutely lights up when she confirms her trust in him. Ughhh! I love the small details you always include. It makes it feel so real. I think actual intimacy is hard to capture sometimes, but you never fail to provide the goods.

“ Today you deserve to be pursued, wooed. I will spend all day earning the right to be with you. To show you how much you mean to me, my beautiful wife.” - Stick a fork in me, I’m done! Anthony has a lot of attractive qualities, but a man that can make and execute a plan is BEYOND sexy. The effort is intoxicating. It really just drives home how much of a priority you are to someone. It’s even sexier that he also denies his own wants in the moment to ensure he delivers on what he knows she deserves. A lot of what love looks like is sacrifice, and this is such a beautiful way to showcase it.

If he would have flaunted that peach to me first thing in the morning, I would have insisted on taking my peaches with a little bit of cream 😳 (I’m sorry, how crude of me lol)

His gift giving would have me weepy all day. So much thought went behind this planned day. To KNOW that you occupy so much of someone’s heart and mind, as much as they dominate your own... Is there any better feeling? All of the little embraces you have laced in here are perfection. Climbing into his lap for a thank you kiss and immediately soaking into the comforting familiarity of his body, only to have him press pause again would be maddening in the best way. Especially when he follows up with statements like, “I haven’t earned you yet.”  ~proceeds to crumple to the floor~ I like how much he sees, too. He remembers all the interruptions, missed dinners, and late nights. Just knowing how much she’s being considered would make me fall in love all over again.

“ He’s never left you believing you are anything but what he needs—his safe harbour, his home, where he wants to lay his head, physically and spiritually.” -- Oooohhhhh mmyyyy gossshhh! I love this line so freaking much. That is To Have and To Hold right there!

“You have the skill to ride any beast; I have no doubt.” - What an absolute menacing tease! 

That camel ride was a scorcher! Again, things don’t always have to be brazen. The covert intimacy that you wove through this story is exquisite. Mmm MMMM MMMMMMM. Being pressed up against one another, feeling the heat from his body, the strength of his arms wrapped around you, his fingers clutching you at your provoking words, his muscular legs securing you in place... Let’s just say the desert is no longer dry. “ The press of his toned frame against yours has you in a low simmer of arousal, his sensual touch almost unbearable. “ - I WILL ACCEPT NO NOTES ON THIS. PERFECT! I WILL FIGHT SOMEONE OVER THIS.

Why is him asking for a photo to be taken the cutest thing I have ever heard. I think sometimes I associate wanting photos as more of a female request. Maybe I’m projecting lol. I always find myself wanting photos with guys but I don’t want to be a bother about it. I think I would have cried if he initiated this with me haha

“ It’s intimate but more sensual than anything else, your arms banding around his neck as you float entwined together, indulging in the cool waters. Wordlessly you cling together and spend many moments in companionable silence, just enjoying each other's embrace and the soothing water.” - Faye, this entire scene was basically Brooke-nip. I felt so content reading this. I KNEW in this moment, that the smut was going to be freaking insane. You are absolutely killing the prompt I sent.

I adored their guided shopping spree. Again, its the amount of attention that he pays that really gets me. Watching to see what lights her eyes so that he can buy it for her. And the mirrorrrrrrr! “I’d love you in every universe.” 🥰🥰🥰

I think reading together in comfortable silence is probably my favorite trope. There is just something so intimate and small about it that makes my heart happy. However, this little reading session did the opposite of relax me! The reading out loud was the end of me. I can finally move on from this world and find peace. And you cheeky little thing! You actually used my name and had him read it. Lady Brooke appreciates that shout out haha. I love how flustered he got while reading it too. They really underestimate how horned up women are sometimes  🤣😈

The vista at twilight is breathtaking. You described it so beautifully. I can see it in full detail and it is magical. The only thing prettier was the way you depicted Anthony in this scene. Crisp white shirt over tan skin, bare feet and tousled hair. Mmmmm. What is it about the barefoot thing that is so attractive? I’m not even into feet haha

“....  he shoots you a look of such devotion it almost seems out of character.” - You know this kind of stuff gets me all in the feels, right? It is ridiculously romantic how nervous he is during this scene. Even after being married for a year, she still makes his heart race. She still evokes those big emotions from him that are hard to put to words. That’s the dream. For the person you’re with to never stop looking at you that way, and to never stop needing to catch a breath yourself when you are knocked over by how much they mean to you.

The ring. The speech. And that kiss 😏😍

When she says, “You’ve earned me,” and he questions it......... That little, “I have?” - Gosh, Faye. You’re killing me here. Those two words say so much. They are packed with so many meanings. The genuine relief of not having to abstain anymore. The shock and joy that the person he loves most thinks he deserves them. And the doubt... the doubt of ever being able to do enough to ever truly earn her love. To be worthy of her. Fucking gorgeous, you genius! 

 And now... let the show begin! Good lord! The shoes situation was obscene! He’s just freaking circling her like she is going to be his last meal. And she has to lock her knees to keep upright?! Sounds about right to me haha. I was waiting for him to tower over her but instead he LAYS DOWN ON HIS BACK IN COMPLETLE SUBMISSION TO HER! But somehow he is still leading. Fuccckkkkk. He just pulls her down and sits her on his face. This man is all in. He’s not messing around. He’s aiming to hand out multiple orgasms tonight and none of them are going to be sub par.  - “uncaring of anything but chasing pleasure, knowing it must be a striking image; you sat utterly naked upon his face as he lays beneath you, still fully clothed.” - This image will never leave me. It’s like he’s starving. There is no time for anything else but her. Not even air.

“Your left hand slides over his where they hold your waist, lacing your fingers together so your wedding rings clink.” 😍😍

Damnnnnn! When he tells her to stop touching him and she straight up tells him, “No. I want to come on your face as I grip your cock.” 🥵🥵

I loved his words of encouragement even while he’s got his mouth full. This is freaking filthy and I have never been happier. I dare say this may be my favorite oral scene you have ever written. It’s so carnal and desperate.

“Just as you start to plead with him to stop teasing, he angles lower. “I love you,” his voice deep as he slips inside your waiting, wanton cunt. Stretching you and filling you in that way only he ever can. Your echoed response is a ragged thing as your eyes roll back, and he huffs a bemused noise at your attempted reply.” - This entire paragraph is perfect. I can feel how in love he is when he says it. He freaking means it. And that adorable little moment where he finds amusement in how lost to pleasure she is... yes yes yes

Ughhhh! This man is an artist - “ As his pace increases, he delicately takes your hand and runs his lips over your new sparkling eternity ring, his fathomless umber eyes speaking the words for him.”

Something really decadent about this sex is how much he is savoring her. He isn’t in a hurry. He wants to feel her with all of his senses. And he wants to her feel everything he is trying to tell her without using any words. This is EXACTLY what I wanted when I sent you this request. I don’t know if you remember that song I sent you a few months ago, but this perfectly captures the tone of it. The lyrics talk about her wanting him to touch her with no hands, hold her with his eyes, and unwind her with his mind. To speak with no words. Show her, and she's all yours... Eeeeep! I love this so much.

Full circle moment to the mirror! So hot when she whispers to him that he is definitely fucking her in front of that later.

That was the tipping point. My eyes were starting to get blurry from the anticipation haha. And then BAM! Time for hard and fast. Deep and to the point. And he won’t let her touch herself because that is HIS JOB! Seriously, you out did yourself with this one Faye. I will gladly wait 4 months at a time for a fic request if this is the result!

Thank you so much Faye. This really did make my day. I will revisit it often when I’m in need of a pick me up. You are the best and I’m not sure what I’ve done to warrant being in your little writing bubble. 

Deserved

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: A memorable first wedding anniversary in Marrakesh...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, oral sex (m to f), facesitting, stripping, vaginal sex. Married couple, romance, teasing, delayed gratification.

Word Count: 8.5k

Authors Note: This is a request fill for the wonderful @broooookiecrisp for her birthday. I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your ask here (request: modern Anthony spends the day seducing his wife). For some reason, I was inspired to set this fic in Marrakesh. Many thanks to @colettebronte for reading through a couple of times, suggesting the title and supporting me when I was close to abandoning this whole concept lol. Enjoy! <3

As soon as your eyes flutter open, your belly flutters too. It's your first wedding anniversary, and you are on a well-deserved break in sun-soaked Marrakesh. You are staying in a beautiful oasis in the midst of town. A riad he has rented that is the picture of Moroccan opulence. So here you lie under pristine soft white cotton; the teal-coloured ceiling studded with gold leaf stars that you stare at is so beautiful you have to sigh. When you stretch your limbs and roll your head to the side, there is one Anthony Bridgerton, your husband of precisely 365 days, lying propped up on his side, already awake, head resting on a casually bent arm, bicep flexed. He greets you with such a handsome stubbled grin that your breath catches.

“Good morning, beautiful wife. Happy anniversary.”

You roll towards him, instinctually wanting him, his skin on yours, perhaps some wonderful slow morning sex to start your anniversary off just right. His chuckle is rich in your ear as you crowd into him and slide an arm around his warm torso, tilting your face up for a kiss, an overture. He hums gently and redirects his lips to your forehead, placing a loving kiss there. Your brow knits slightly, and you are filled with concern about morning breath.

“Your breath is fine,” he laughs, guessing where your thoughts have run. “I just have very special plans for today,” he smiles, cupping your jaw and placing another chaste kiss on your cheek. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” your answer is a reflex; his responding beam makes your heart light. 

“Then I would like to table morning sex, as utterly wonderful as it would be. Today you deserve to be pursued, wooed. I will spend all day earning the right to be with you. To show you how much you mean to me, my beautiful wife.” Warmth spreads under your ribs as he continues. “Now, I have a very special day planned for us, but it starts with breakfast out in the courtyard; how does that sound, hmmm?”

Your tummy rumbling answers for you, and you share a laugh at the timing. With a quick kiss on your other cheek, he pulls away and throws off the covers, stepping out of bed. Utterly naked. Giving you a full view of his very peachy bottom as he leisurely strolls towards the bathroom.

“Tease,” you call after him, your mouth watering at the mere sight of his tanned, toned body.

“Just a little amuse bouche,” he responds lightly over his shoulder, giving a slight wiggle before closing the door.

“Not fair,” you whine, flopping back onto the bed with a grin that feels like it claims your whole face as his responding laugh echoes on the bathroom tile through the wall.

____

Half an hour later, as you emerge from the bathroom fully dressed, he takes your hand, kissing the back of it, his lips lingering and his soft, warm eyes tilted towards you; then he leads you by the hand out to the sunny courtyard. There, right under a perfect riot of date palms, is a table set up for two, gleaming silverware and platters overflowing with fruits, freshly baked bread, olives, sauces and all manner of delights. The enticing aroma of intense Morrorocan spiced coffee fills the air.

“Mmmm, perfect,” he declares and chivalrously pulls out a chair for you to sit, rounding to his only once you are comfortable.

You eat together slowly, lazily, as you reminisce on your wedding day a year ago. The fun, the mishaps, but mostly the love, the love of your family and friends and the joy surrounding you as you pledged yourselves to each other for all to see.

At the end of the meal, as some staff materialise and clear your plates, he places a box in front of you on the table, ruby red against the pristine white.

“What is this?”

“Just the first of many gifts for the day,” he shrugs demurely.

You prise off the lid to find inside an intricately designed paper peony flower encased in a clear Perspex box.

“It's beautiful,” you sigh, carefully taking it out and turning it slowly to see the many, many layers of intricate folding.

“The first anniversary is traditionally paper,” he smiles, “so I had someone take our wedding invitation and order of service booklet and fashion it into a flower for you. There are over 1000 folds and cuts, so it is quite delicate.”

Up close now, you see the print of your names and the design of your invitation, and you inhale sharply. This is hours of painstaking work. And such a thoughtful gift. You swing out of your chair and climb into Anthony’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Thank you, it's wonderful,” you sigh against his lips. He obliges your kisses, your hands looping around his neck as you deepen the kiss running your tongue over his lips. You hear his soft moan and instinctively push your body against him, shifting further into his lap when he pulls back from the kiss. 

“No darling, I have not earned you yet,” he murmurs, moving to your neck, sucking your skin with soft, warm lips in a way that makes you weak and wanting.

“Please, Anthony…” you whine a little, your hand straying down his torso, but he captures your wrist and moves your arm away.

“Don't think I don't want to,” he assures, right in your ear, rich like velvet. “Right now, nothing would give me greater pleasure, my love, but I want to build up to something truly memorable. Earn you. Give you a full day of romance. I am usually so busy with work; I more than owe you this—a year of missed dinners and interrupted plans. Today, in fact, this week is just for us. No work, no meddling Bridgerton family. Just us.”

He’s right, although you’ve never seen it that way or held a grudge. You knew when you accepted his proposal how life would be as the wife of a CEO of a powerful company such as Bridgerton Enterprises. You have your network of friends and your own career to forge. And he always made it home, albeit sometimes late, but with an affectionate greeting and often a mind-blowing orgasm. It’s hardly been a struggle. He’s never left you believing you are anything but what he needs—his safe harbour, his home, where he wants to lay his head, physically and spiritually.

“Please let me do this?” he appeals, nuzzling against you.

The loving, sweet way he asks makes you sigh and capitulate, despite being already ripe and wanton for him. With a theatrical pout that he finds entertaining, you climb out of his lap and retake your seat as he checks his watch.

“We have a car coming to pick us up shortly to take us a little way out of town for our first activity of the day,” he smiles.

“What are we doing?”

“A little camel ride before the heat of the day kicks in,” he smiles. “We can enjoy a little escape from the hustle and bustle of the city with the backdrop of the Atlas Mountains.”

“I've never ridden a camel before,” you confess, a little nervous as he stands up and steps behind your chair, squeezing your shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right with you,” he promises, then leans in, his breath hot on your cheek. “You have the skill to ride any beast; I have no doubt.”

Yep, he's definitely trying to kill you.

____

Sometime later, having been whisked out of the city, you are being helped onto the camel by a tour guide as it kneels next to some steps. Anthony climbs on effortlessly behind you. And with a quick tug of the harness, the camel is standing up, and you squeal lightly, grabbing hold of Anthony’s hands that encircle your waist.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, and you realise you will be spending the next hour with him pressed against your back, the seat very snug.

“Should we not be on separate camels?” you ask quietly.

“Usually yes, but I requested we share,” his voice lilting, his fingers flexing lightly over your tummy, scrunching the soft cotton of your maxi dress. 

You exhale shakily as you feel his muscles flex against your back as the camel starts to move at a leisurely gait. It's a gently rolling motion that is quite relaxing…. Except all you can think about is Anthony, his legs bracketing yours, the hair of his calves tickling yours where your dress is hitched up. He rests his chin on your shoulder, enveloping you, and points to the stunning mountains. It is indeed a wondrous, unforgettable place, and you savour the vista the best you can even as your thoughts are of the man behind you, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear occasionally between when the guide is speaking. The heat of the desert is still building for the day, but there is a refreshing, gentle breeze amongst the cacti—cooling the sun on your skin.

“I told you you would be a natural,” Anthony compliments lowly as you watch the hazy shimmer on the horizon.

“What I believe you said was something about riding a beast,” you shoot back coquettishly, twisting to say it quietly in his ear, revelling as his hands grasp you a fraction tighter as you say it.

“All in good time, my love,” he responds, dropping a kiss onto the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Mmm, you smell of almonds and coconut,” he sighs, running the tip of his nose over your skin.

“It's my suntan lotion,” you hum, basking in the feeling.

“You taste good enough to eat,” he rumbles, and part of your mind pleads with him to bite your skin, to slide a hand under your dress and touch you, uncaring there is a guide with you. The press of his toned frame against yours has you in a low simmer of arousal, his sensual touch almost unbearable.

You want to tell him to stop teasing you like this, but it’s as enthralling as it is exasperating. You lean back into him as the camel sways, savouring the intimacy, even as you crave more, distracted by errant flashes of his hands running heavily down your body as you undulate on him in a manner not dissimilar to the movements of this ride—almost as if he planned this. To have you distracted and thinking of him, even in this mesmerising landscape.

“May we have a photo?” Anthony calls, pulling you from your erotic reverie. 

Your tour guide obliges, taking the proffered phone and stepping back to frame the shot as Anthony wraps his arms tighter around you. Smiling for the camera, you know this will be a picture you will treasure for years to come.

“You look beautiful today, my love,” Anthony flatters, running fingertips over the soft, lightweight fabric of your dress as the camel moves again.

“Thank you,” you demure. 

“Although I must admit, I can’t wait to take it off of you later,” he adds in a dusky tone that makes your breath hitch.

“Are you going to tease me like this all day?” you bemoan under your breath.

“Yes,” he chuckles softly, “and it’s probably going to get much worse.” The glittering promise makes your skin prickle even hotter than the desert sun.

____

An hour or so later, you return to your riad, and he suggests you take a cooling dip in the courtyard pool before heading to the souk for a late afternoon tour and then dinner. It's a beautiful tranquil shaded spot framed with plants and tiled in stunning tourmaline green.

The cold water is a wonderful balm from the rising temperatures, and you sigh indulgently as you slip under the surface up to your shoulders, resting your head on the edge and closing your eyes.

You only stir when the water laps gently around your neck as he joins you. Your eyes open to the delicious view of your husband in swimming shorts slung almost obscenely low on his hips. Acres of tanned, toned torso above them with an inviting line of hair trailing from the patch at his chest, down over his defined abs all the way to those shorts. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth, wanting to trace its length.

“My face is up here,” he smirks at your obvious ogling.

“You denied me morning sex,” you lobby back as he wades in slowly down the steps, “besides, I am within my rights to eye up my delicious husband.” 

He laughs and wades closer, dipping under the water and making an almost obscene moan of pleasure, tilting his head back to wet his hair so it is slicked against his head. Then he advances on you with a knowing smile until his arms cage yours against the pool wall, and he pulls in and kisses your cheek.

“Feeling cooler, Viscountess?” he teases lightly.

“I was,” you reply pointedly, and he smirks, pulling you into his arms and wrapping your legs loosely around his hips.

It’s intimate but more sensual than anything else, your arms banding around his neck as you float entwined together, indulging in the cool waters. Wordlessly you cling together and spend many moments in companionable silence, just enjoying each other's embrace and the soothing water.

“Are you enjoying your first wedding anniversary, love?” he asks after a while.

“Very much so; this sets a rather high bar for the future.” You point out.

You feel his smile as your faces are pressed together. “I will bear that in mind,” he replies playfully, kissing your shoulder.

“What is next on this day of dates?” you ask, petting the wet tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck.

“We shall have a private tour guide take us to the best shops in the souk for some more gifts, of course, and then a private dinner cooked for us by a superb chef. And perhaps some dancing?”

“That sounds far too dreamy,” you sigh, turning your head to place a kiss on his neck. The cool water drops over his warmth is tantalising, and you linger, sucking gently, curling your legs around his hips further, pressing into him.

“I know what you are doing, my love,” he chuckles knowingly, “but trust me, it’s better that we wait to indulge,” his voice vibrating the skin against your lips.

“How can you be so sure?” you pout mildly.

He chuckles and pulls back to run a thumb over your lower lip, the slight aroma of chlorine there. “Delayed gratification tastes so much sweeter. Like ageing wine, it is always worth the wait,” he whispers and nuzzles your face, dropping soft kisses on your cheeks that make you feel glowing and jittery inside like fireflies live behind your ribs.

Your hands can’t help but run over his shapely torso underwater as you untangle limbs, wanting the sense memory to tide you over until you can see him without clothing later.

“I shall go get ready for our tour; it will start in half an hour,”

He kisses your knuckles with a smile, then climbs out of the pool, giving you a delectable view of the sweeping, strong line of his back, the curve of the muscle of his bum and legs. It makes you want to trace every contour with your tongue, a viscous throb in your swimwear under the water.

“Damn you, husband,” you mutter to yourself as he grabs a towel and, with a cheeky grin over his shoulder, heads across the courtyard to your bedroom. 

____

A little while later, as the afternoon rolls around, you are changed and ready for a tour. The sights, sounds and smells of the souk are so evocative. As you wander the narrow lanes between merchants, it’s a hubbub and hive of people and activity. Colourful fabrics drape over walls; displays groan with beautiful jewellery, brass lanterns throwing kaleidoscopic swirls of colour, and bright jars filled with earthy spices. The noise of haggling, Arabian music playing from little speakers and the most arrestingly delicious smell of spices, ripe fruits, coffee brewing and delicious foods cooking. It’s an overload of the senses that is delightful as it is intense. All the while, Anthony has an arm snaked around your back as you both wander in awe. 

As you pass one stall, a scarf catches your eye, and you linger, running your fingers over it, amazed at the softness and gauzy quality of the silk. Its varying tones of purple interlaced with silken silver threads. With a handsome grin, Anthony picks it up, wraps it around your shoulders, and nods to the merchant, handing over a bill after a short exchange with the guide. 

“It’s beautiful on you,” he whispers into your hair, bussing the lightest kiss onto your temple. 

“Anthony,” you demure, touching the material and still marvelling at its beauty, “you needn’t buy me so many gifts today. I am just enjoying our quality time together.”

“And I am enjoying giving you everything that makes your eyes light up,” he replies; the sincerity in his eyes has you melting. “Why else would a man work all the hours I do if not to spoil those he loves, hmm?” His lips are warm on your cheekbone. 

You cannot argue with that, so you merely smile and kiss his jaw, slightly rough with stubble. Only when your guide pointedly clears their throat do you break from your romantic cinch and move along.

It’s a delight of an afternoon as you snack on freshly roasted almonds, the most delicious buttery olives you have ever tasted, fresh figs and prickly pears. At one point, Anthony purchases a clay tagine, just about the only kitchen item that wasn’t on your wedding registry and arranges to have it delivered to your riad as you keep wandering.

“This is so memorable,” you sigh as you pause to watch your joint reflection in a mosaic mirror—myriad scattered versions of yourself, each looking as happy as you feel. You watch in the mirror as his eyes meet yours, and then he leans down to kiss your neck, wanting you to watch; so many versions of him kissing do so many versions of you. “So many versions of us,” you chuckle quietly, nodding at the mirror, and he curls a smile against your skin.

“I would love you in every universe,” he murmurs, his breath dusting warm as if he can tell where the mirror has sent your thoughts. “And I think we need to buy this mirror as a reminder,” he smiles. 

You shake your head affectionately but don’t fight his suggestion, and before you know it, there is an arrangement for another item to be sent to your place.

____

After a couple of hours of wandering the souk, you retire back to the oasis of your riad. As late afternoon gives way to early evening, you spend an hour lying under the whitewash veranda on cushioned loungers, reading together in companionable silence as you sip fruit juices.

Your book looked to be a fluffy, lightweight confection of period romance from the cover when you purchased it, but a few chapters into the story, things turn a little spicy when you were reading on the flight. Now a few chapters later, it is happening again; your pulse quickening, a flush creeping over your body at the descriptives. When you bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together on instinct, it catches Anthony’s attention, and he looks over to you intrigued, putting down his book and swinging around to face you.

“Y/n, are you alright?” 

You look up from your book, almost startled, and you watch his face turn intrigued as he catalogues your dilated pupils and the lower lip you are worrying with an incisor tooth. When you don’t answer, he slips the book from your slackened grip and takes it into his hands to read.

“Lady Brook sighed tremulously as his…” he stops reading aloud, and his eyes widen and then cut to you. “Well, that is quite something…” he mutters, his tone dropping lower as his eyes ping from the passage that he doesn’t appear able to stop reading and you. “Darling, this is… quite explicit,” his tone gravelly now.

“Read it to me, Anthony,” you whisper without thought, and his inhale is sharp.

He looks hesitant at first, but then he gets a glint in his eye. “I will do so on one condition,” he offers in low timbre.

“Which is?” you prompt, intrigued.

“You must not touch yourself anywhere as I read,” he simpers. “Just lay there and listen with your eyes closed.”

“Alright,” you concur, wrapping your hands around the arms of the lounger as if to prove a point as your eyes flutter shut.

“Lady Brook sighed tremulously as his hand ran up the inside of her thigh under the table,” his voice is smooth and buttery as you squeeze your legs together tighter, basking in his voice. “The spidering warmth of them making her breath hitch. Just as the King announced the evening’s entertainment, his fingers reached the apex of her thighs, naked, bare and glistening with slick desire just for him.” At this point, Anthony clears his throat and glances around to check no one is within earshot. “Wow, this is…” he breaks from the narrative momentarily, and you sense his shock as he reads ahead silently. “I'm not sure I should read more,” he says quietly, and your eyes open at his change of tone.

“Why not, darling?” the breathy nature of your question is not lost on either of you.

“I think this could derail my plans for the day entirely,” he divulges. “It makes me want to pick you up and take you to bed right now.” There is more than a hint of a growl, and that low simmer of arousal flares inside you at his confession.

“Please, Anthony, do it,” you beseech.

“You temptress,” he lobbies heatedly, and part of you longs for him to lift you, carry you across the courtyard and throw you onto the bed. “But no…” he sounds the most reluctant he has all day. “It will be worth the wait,” he remarks firmly, but it seems as much for himself as you.

You pout but relent as your eye catches the beautiful scarf he bought for you earlier. “Okay, but… later, I want you to do what happens on page 82,” you reply huskily as you rise from the lounger to visit the toilet… and probably splash cold water on your face.

You hear him flipping pages as you walk away and smile as he exclaims, “Bloody hell! Is this what all romance books are like?!? This is utter filth!” 

It’s your turn to shoot a coy smile over your shoulder as you close the door.

____

Within the hour, the sky above your courtyard turns dusky purple and pink as the sun fades. You change into a black halter dress that is simple but elegant—long flowing silk that is almost entirely backless. As a result, you decide to forgo all underwear, the cool silk directly on your skin, a soothing, arousing sensation resting weightlessly on your nipples and grazing the globes of your bare bottom. On your feet, you wear strappy gold leather sandals that complete the look perfectly. 

When you emerge from the dressing room off the bedroom, Anthony has left a hand-scrawled note on the bed to join him when you are ready in the pool courtyard. 

You wander out, and the vista catches your breath. The space is lit softly with up lights amongst the palms and fairy lights wrapped around their trunks. The pool glows invitingly from underwater lighting, and the sky above is now a dusky grey as night falls.

Amongst all this exotic beauty is the sight that truly steals your breath. Your husband in a crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows, highlighting his tanned skin. Custom-fitted trousers hang perfectly on his muscular frame. He is barefoot, and his hair is slightly tousled. All you want to do is grab his hand and haul him back to the bedroom and tackle him to the bed. 

He smiles wide as you approach, drinking in the view of you, walking a little taller, knowing the silk flows around your body like a shimmery river.

“Wow,” he breathes, and you can’t help the triumphant little smirk at his reaction. 

“It gets better,” you say quietly as you pull up close and then turn your back and hear the almost strangled noise he makes at the sheer amount of skin on display.

“Good lord, you are trying to kill me?” he stutters, feeling the breath he huffs over your shoulder blades.

“Revenge for a day of teasing,” you shoot back, swishing your head to the side so you can see his heated expression behind you out of the corner of your eye.

“Doesn’t feel like revenge,” he breathes.

You jolt as one knuckle runs softly and slowly down each notch in your spine from your mid-back to the scoop of fabric. Just that touch alone causes goosebumps to break out down your arms and your nipples to pebble hard against the silk. 

“Payback then,” you amend, and he smiles. 

“I have more surprises in store yet,” he vows and rounds beside you, taking your hand and leading you to a table for two surrounded by flickering brass lanterns. 

You savour a memorable and delicious meal freshly prepared by what you later learn is a world-renowned chef. Every bite is a delight, crafted so expertly that it melts into delicious nothingness on your tongue—a true culinary thrill. The food is accompanied by Dom Perignon vintage champagne, almost tasting like fruit dancing on your tongue.

Anthony is quiet at the meal. Not in an uncomfortable way, but more letting the culinary experience dictate your exchanges. But all the while, when you catch each other's eye, he shoots you a look of such devotion it almost seems out of character. 

As the plates are cleared away, you realise he looks a little apprehensive, as if he has something to say but feels nervous to do so.

“What is it, my love?” you check. 

Surprise morphs across his handsome features. “You know me far too well,” he huffs, amused and seems to relax a few notches. “There is something I wish to say, but first… let’s dance,”

“But there’s no music?” you giggle.

Anthony nods to someone behind you, and suddenly from speakers hidden amongst the foliage, music pipes up. Within a few notes, you recognise it as the first dance from your wedding; your heart soaring as he pulls you up from your chair.

“Oh, you…” you shake your head affectionately but let him pull you a few paces onto the exotic mosaic tile square at the centre of the courtyard.

You rest your head against his jaw as he draws you into his arms, swaying to the song, his hand warm on your bare back. You tilt up to see the blanket of stars and have to refrain from becoming too overrun with emotion. It’s been the perfect day, a mix of fun and relaxation, quiet and bustle, nature and city, and all the time him. Anthony. Never leaving your side for long and making so many romantic overtures you wish you had written the day down so they do not blend together too much. Just as you are lost, trying to mentally file away all of the experiences, his voice gently cuts into your thoughts.

“I am not a man of poetry,” he begins, almost hesitant, “and such words of flattery would ring hollow in the face of what we now share.” You can tell from his grip on your hand and the one on your back that this feels like an important speech, so you pull away slightly to look at him, meet his eye, and give his jaw a reassuring touch as he continues. “I may not be able to offer the beautiful words you truly deserve, but I hope today has been a good display of my love for you. I assure you, when it comes to actions, I would never want to be demonstrably lacking. I hope today speaks louder than any pretty words could.”

You know your eyes are misty now, even as he relinquishes your hand and reaches into his pocket. You mutter his name, voice loaded with emotion, just as he raises a thin sparkling band held between his thumb and forefinger. You gasp and cling to him, your gaze pinging between his face, soft with emotion, and the beautiful object he holds between your bodies. 

“This is an eternity ring,” he explains sotto voce, spinning it slowly so the jewels catch fire in the lantern light. “It is a never-ending ring of tiny diamonds that symbolise how I feel. That my love for you never ends; it is a continuous circle—for eternity. I didn’t want to wait another day to offer it to you. In the hope you will always wear it, alongside your wedding and engagement rings,” he nods at the other two you wear proudly on your left hand.

“Please put it on me,” you whisper and tremble as he slips the ring until it nestles with the others—a perfect match.

“Thank you, Anthony, my love, my world,” you know your voice quivers as you rock to your tiptoes and push your lips to his. 

He accepts your advance, your chest bursting with fireflies as he lets you deepen the kiss, hands sliding around each other's bodies. This feels like the pinnacle; you can no longer be teased and denied. Your heart and body are aflame, craving him almost painfully. 

“You’ve earned me,” you state fervently over his lips as you break for air.

“I have?” his emotive gasp knocks the wind from you.

You move your lips to the shell of his ear. “I’m on fire for you, Anthony. Please, please don’t deny me anymore.” 

He pants a little as he gusts warm in your ear. “I could never,” it’s a hushed tone; the spike of euphoria in your veins is the best drug in the universe.

“Are we alone?” 

“We can be if I give the signal,” he murmurs back, fingertips trailing your spine again.

“Give it,” you hiss, almost fevered.

After another fervent kiss and a few moments of swaying as the song fades, he confirms it's just the two of you, and the house staff will not return unless called.

“Take off my shoes?” you request, a swell of desire and emotion as he sinks to his knees before you, glancing up with a loaded expression—the flickering light from the surrounding lanterns dancing on his blackened pupils.

You pull up your hem slightly to reveal your shoes, and, using both hands, he eases the dainty buckle until he can peel off the sandal. You grasp his shoulders as you place your bare foot on the cool tile, and he moves to the other shoe. Soon you are barefoot and gazing down at your husband, staring back up at you devotedly. 

Without breaking eye contact, you reach behind your neck and pull the silken bow until the halter relents. The gossamer material instantly slackens and slips down over your body in a diaphanous flutter—the material soon merely a black circle around your feet. 

The noise he makes is primal, so wanton, that you lock your knees to stay upright. You daren't look away from his face; his breathing turns shallow and rapid, drinking in the view of you, utterly naked and standing above him.

“Fuckkkkk.” 

“Take me,” you implore simply, cupping his strong jaw in both hands, enjoying the rasp of stubble against your palms. 

His eyes flash, and his mouth opens a fraction as he runs his hands slowly up the outside of your calves, his gaze never leaving yours. You can't resist running a thumb over those luscious lips. His lips open wider as you pull gently down on his bottom lip, pliant under your touch, his hands gliding up over the outside of your knees and thighs.

When his hands reach your hips, he tugs you down wordlessly, shifting himself backwards until he is lying on the cooling mosaic tile and pulling your body on top of him with a heated look, your knees landing on either side of his shoulders.

“Anthony,” you gasp as he turns his head to the side and sucks on your inner thigh, enticing you lower.

Your stomach is in a knot, pulsing deep inside as he twists back, his breath hot on the soaked slit between your legs. Your thighs are almost trembling as he unfurls his tongue and takes a decadent swipe pushing apart your lips and ending with a flick with the point over your clit. 

The whole day of simmering desire has led to this moment, your head tilting back to see a blanket of stars in the sky above the courtyard, framed by the palm tree fronds. Your right hand gropes blindly until your fingers sink into his luscious chestnut hair… and you let go. Let your inhibitions fly, groan loudly, decadently, uncaring of anything but chasing pleasure, knowing it must be a striking image; you sat utterly naked upon his face as he lays beneath you, still fully clothed.

He utters encouragements into your flesh as he swipes lewdly, sucking hard on your labia, tugging gently to amplify the sensation around your clit before swirling his tongue deep right around that distended nub. He knows your body so well now, so easily able to take you apart with a few deadly moves. And yet it never grows familiar, old or tired, always a little different, keeping you on the edge of anticipation of what he will do next.

The rich cotton of his shirt brushes your inner knees as he shifts slightly under you, hands gliding over your skin to encircle the dip of your waist and pull you lower so you are bearing down your weight upon him, so he can't breathe unless it’s into your body, his nose buried deep in your pubic hair, resting against the bone there, his mouth hot and heavy as he gasps around you, his mouth drinking from you as if its nectar.

You tilt your head back down and tug on his hair, watching his eyes glitter as he growls deep. You moan, feeling the vibration through your public bone as his mouth opens wide against you, his tongue taking broad strokes, seemingly engulfing the whole area with one dab.

The look as he coaxes you to slide on him is breathtaking; you cannot look away from those pupils, shining in the low romantic light, as you rock your hips gently, his tongue swirling deep with each pass. Your left hand slides over his where they hold your waist, lacing your fingers together so your wedding rings clink. This is pure carnality, and you don't want it to end. You want to spend the night entwined with him. The wait he put you through earlier is more than worth the payoff of this moment. 

“All night,” your comment is a breathy ragged exhale, “I want you to make love to me all night,” you say clearly, unashamed to speak the truth of your desire to your husband.

His mouth is too occupied to reply, but you see the flash in his eye that tells you that is precisely his plan. He shifts lower, and you cry out as he spears his tongue into a point and buries it into your pussy, the rough stubble on his cheeks abrading the soft skin of your inner thigh as he wraps his arms tighter. 

You pant his name and tilt fractionally, letting your swollen clit ride his nose as his tongue lashes deep into your channel. You sense little movements in his body and can tell he is unconsciously bucking his hips up off the floor, simulating thrusting into you; you glance down over your shoulder to see a delicious bulge there, and you can't resist but shift angle, releasing your hold on his hair and bowing back slightly over him so you can grab his crotch as you ride his tongue.

You feel the snarl he makes echo up your pussy as you palm the heated mass that strains against his trousers, grasping your fingers in sync with the lashings of his tongue. So desperate for him to be inside you.

He wrenches his face backwards away from your pussy and takes deep wracking breaths, canting his hips so he surges into your grip.

“Stop, darling,” he urges, but the tone suggests the exact opposite.

“No,” you challenge, raising an eyebrow, ”I want to come on your face as I grip your cock.”

He looks dazzled, awestruck even, by your boldness. Something that has blossomed as you grew in confidence under his guidance, him leading you into new realms of pleasure. Teaching you to demand what you want of him.

“As my Viscountess wishes,” he responds silkily, the tone somehow both submissive and authoritative.

His right hand relinquishes its grip on your waist, and you cry out as two fingers plunge into your cunt, his knuckles pushing open your walls as you cling to them, the invasion just perfect to push you higher, an electric slide down your spine as your scalp tingles. Your grip on his other hand at your waist, almost bruising now, his wedding ring leaving a dent in your skin.

Then his tongue is back, harshly swiping your clit, as his other fingers rock deep inside you. You whimper his name, shamelessly grinding on his face, chasing that addictive high as his tongue lashes right over your swollen bud. Concentrating all his efforts there, swirling, teasing, varying pressure, then sucking it between his lush lips, then using a little edge of his teeth to nip at the tip, a new blinding pleasure hits you. 

You are pleading with him not to stop, your voice delirious, drunk on him, on this—the debauched tableau amongst the beauty of twinking palms, white-washed walls and glowing understated opulence.

The filthy sodden noises he wrenches from your body would have made you feel ashamed before. Now you know better; it's like music to his ears, how utterly gushing and aroused he can make you, leaking over his eager face. His fingers hook a little, and he hits that spot that steals the breath from your lungs. You can see the smirk in his eyes as you shudder bodily, your nipples throbbing, wanting his touch, and he knows it. Releasing your waist and snaking that hand up to tweak them, playing your body like a maestro does an instrument.

The heavy elixir of sensation: his fingers buried in your cunt dragging hard, his lips on your clit, his other hand snagging your nipples, his cock rigid and heated under your palm, his eyes goading you, are what push you over the edge. Every muscle in your body clamping tense, taunt and shaking as the fluttering in your channel fans out flames around your body.

You hear muffled sounds as he makes victorious noises, but the world is narrowing to the rush noise in your ears and the burning pulse as you break. Your body weight slumped onto his strong jaw as you cry out and convulse, him drinking from your body. You take wracking breaths as you tip sideways and roll onto the tile next to him, the cool ceramic a salve to your flushed, heated skin.

He instantly rolls against you as you stare at the stars and try to return to reality, even as you feel yourself floating up amongst the heavens. You don't fight his hold as he scoops you up and athletically moves across the courtyard towards your bedroom, you curling into his body, feeling soft and pliant against his muscular frame. 

As he sweeps in, the room is lit with soft flickering pillar candles nestled in little glass dishes filled with sand. Everything looks so beautiful you burrow further into him and look at him devotedly, knowing this is all something he arranged. The beauty and romance are as breathtaking as the mind-bending orgasm he just gave you. And just like that, your desire flares again, an almost metallic taste in your mouth as your blood runs hot. The fierce want to have him making love to you, sensual, lush, needy, his sinful voice pleading your name into your neck as you move together.

“Please, Anthony,” you whisper as he places you on top of the plush white cotton bedding and backs away from the bed as you stare at him, mesmerised by his sinful expression.

He flicks open a shirt button with an arched brow, giving you a show, letting you fully recover in comfort, but making sure your arousal never slips for a second. You know your pupils are blown wide, and you bite your lip, still tingling and swollen dark pink from your orgasm. You greedily drink in his toned torso being revealed, the dusting of thick chest hair so inviting you want to run your fingertips through it and grip it, making him groan. With a flourish that makes you giggle, he throws aside the shirt and holds your gaze smoulderingly as his hand drops to the zip of his fly. You are almost certain he was not wearing underwear when you palmed him earlier, the heat and insistence too great for him to be sporting anything but the thin fabric he now is parting. And you are right. You don't hesitate to moan as his cock springs free, so familiar but every time tantalising, making you clench at the very sight. 

He shucks his trousers down his toned, downy legs, instantly prowling towards you, naked except for that shiny wedding ring you can't take your eyes off. 365 days of bliss. And hopefully, a lifetime more.

Then he climbs over you, tilting you back onto the bed so all you see is his handsome, smiling, stubbled face framed by curled chestnut locks and beyond, teal and gold stars. It's a view you want to be burned into your retinas, a core memory to recall in your twilight years—the love, the passion, the connection.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” he purrs, nuzzling your face with his before kissing you passionately, your arousal musky on his face and tongue. He loves to kiss you like this, so you taste yourself on him, a cocktail of his mouth and the arousal he wrings from your body—a reminder of the passion you share. 

His hand cups your jaw as your tongues lathe together, endless kisses as his hands sweep over your body, grasping behind your knee and pulling your leg up and out wide so he slots between your thighs, his rigid cock sliding over the apex, making you moan into his mouth.

He rocks his cock teasingly, his lips ghosting yours, whispering yeses, and that's it, revelling in your little noises, the sensation against your swollen soaked clit almost too much.

Just as you start to plead with him to stop teasing, he angles lower. “I love you,” his voice deep as he slips inside your waiting, wanton cunt. Stretching you and filling you in that way only he ever can. Your echoed response is a ragged thing as your eyes roll back, and he huffs a bemused noise at your attempted reply.

Your gazes lock as he slides slowly deeper until he is buried entirely in your body, already fluttering around him, the fit so perfect, just the right side of an ache. You hold his face and pull him down for more kisses as he starts to move in slow, deliberate strokes, your whole body rolling with the effort, a gentle wave that already has you floating.

He may not be a man of flamboyant words, but as he said earlier, his actions speak louder than any affirmations ever could. Showing you his devotion, enveloping your body and mind. As his pace increases, he delicately takes your hand and runs his lips over your new sparkling eternity ring, his fathomless umber eyes speaking the words for him. 

Your hands rake down the hair on his chest, loving the soft feel under your fingers, sliding further until you reach his abs, the flex so arousing as he thrusts into your body. You glance down to where your bodies meet, watching his cock disappear into you rhythmically, a tantalising glimpse. Your hands circle his sides, staking his skin to grab his shapely bottom, enticing him to take you harder, towards a crescendo. 

“Not yet,” he chuckles, dropping a quick kiss on your lips.

Instead, he pulls out of your body, you keening loudly at the sudden loss. He sits up, crossing his legs into the lotus position and hauls you into his lap. He guides you down onto him, and a shiver runs up your spine as he wraps your legs around his lower back. Locked together with his cock buried deep, the pace turns slow, your eyes staring, sharing kisses, languid, sensual, elongating the experience into something else. His hands run soothing strokes over your spine as yours hold his biceps, using your core strength to circle your hips, loving the feel of his cock dragging different angles as you rise and fall gently. This is the sort of intimacy that songs are composed about, and you feel so profoundly exhilarated and privileged that you get to experience it with this wonderful man. 

You rock together, limbs entwined, for many more moments, your gaze catching the reflection in the arched mirror on the other side of the room. You cannot see all of you, just the top of Anthony's shoulders and his head of hair and yourself, rising and rocking onto his cock. Even just this little snippet is undeniably arousing, and you turn your head to whisper in his ear that you want him to fuck you in front of a mirror before you leave, want to watch you both come. Following your instinct to tell him your desires.

The noise he emits in response makes every hair on your body stand on end, his hands gripping your hips forcefully. It seems to light a fire in him, suddenly rife with need, the mood changing from languorous to passionate. Your world tilts as he throws you down onto your back, your legs still looped around his back, as he unfurls himself and hovers over you, a wild look in his eye. 

“You want me to fuck you, wife?” he growls, and just as rapidly, you need him to take you somewhere utterly feral, savage, ferocious.

“Yes, oh god, yes, please,” you implore raggedly, your hands back on his bum, digging your nails into his flesh, leaving crescent-shaped indents and scratches on the round of his cheeks.

And so he does. Looping your legs over his forearms now, tilting your pelvis up and more open, he thrust into your body, plugging to the hilt in one stroke that makes your toes curl and your lungs scream his name. It spurs him on, and he starts to pound into you in earnest, his brow dampening with the effort, grunting with each spike. Curling his body down to capture your breast in his hot mouth, making you arch your back and push up against his tongue, his teeth, teeming with desperation for him, wanting him to leave his marks on your skin. 

The sturdy king-sized bed begins to protest with the force of his harsh thrusts. All you can do is cling on, feeling so utterly invaded. The brush of his pubic bone catches enticingly against your clit, still so slippery and throbbing but not quite enough to push you over. 

You insinuate a hand between your bodies to touch your clit, but he grasps your wrist when he realises what you are doing, his pace never wavering.

“That's my job, darling,” he scolds, and then a thumb lands heavily on your clit, flicking in time with each thrust. 

You cry out and wrap your arms around his neck; eyes closed, biting his earlobe as he pants into the crook of your neck. The unrelenting pace and his fingers are too much. He doesn't even have to say another thing, just the feel of him engulfing you, taking you so harshly his cock is like a hot spike piercing you open and that thumb circling your nub, and you are calling his name and fracturing around him. Your heartbeat is pounding loud as fireworks dance behind your eyelids, your cunt clenching so hard you can hear him growling to not ever fucking stop and how he wants to die inside you, fucking you. But it's all through a gauzy filter, as you somehow float out of your body as if among the Moroccan stars but also grounded in your body as you convulse, each cell in your body alive and electric. The sensation seems to roll on forever, notching across your skin, as you feel him still over you, then his hips jerking violently as he comes deep inside you, his mouth slack on your throat.

You take deep racking breaths in sync, the frenzy passing, left with nothing but a bone-deep feeling of satisfaction that makes your inside feel molten and your brain pleasantly fuzzy. Anthony rolls next to you and pulls you into a dewy embrace, both of your bodies covered in a sheen from the exertion. His hands swirl delicate patterns on your skin as you nestle into him, your lips over the slowing hammering of his heartbeat in his jugular. 

“Was it worth the wait, Viscountess?” his voice a deep sonorous tease; you can feel his smile against your sticky forehead.

“Oh god, yes,” you confess elatedly, giggling and wrapping your arms tighter around his ribs, shiting to bury your face into the fuzz of hair on his chest.

He chuckles and strokes your hair, dropping a kiss on your hairline.

“The first of many memorable anniversaries, I promise,” he whispers as you start to drift off, the exhaustion of a thrilling, memorable day catching up with you.

You can’t wait.

Anthony taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @queenofmean14 @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @elizah99 @fictionalmenloversblog @malpalgalz @amanda08319 @panhoeofmanyfandoms @delehosies @m-rae23 @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

[klubhead76]

In the past few days, we have been reading stories about Jesus. The stories are a validation of His life and death. They tell us that love, goodness and truth will endure. Jesus did His best: He washed the feet of His apostles, and let Judas kiss Him, He answered Pilate’s questions, He thanked Simon of Cyrene, and He forgave the soldiers and prayed for His executioners, He encouraged the robber on the cross next to Him. Finally, when He lay bleeding, bruised and disfigured He bent His head and died.

However, He did not stay dead in the tomb. By the power of God-the Father-He rose again to a new life. So today we come together to celebrate God’s validation of His life and everything that He stood for. Easter celebrates not the ugliness of His suffering, death and what people did to Him, but the enduring and compelling beauty of His life and love that surmounted it all. We look back over His life and what He said and did.

He told us that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven; He said it, I didn’t. He said to seek first the kingdom of God, which He described as feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and giving drink to the thirsty. In short, being concerned about others. He told us disturbing stories about the rich man and the beggar named Lazarus at the gate, about the man who built bigger barns, about security, only to die that night without having kissed his children. He spoke about forgiving one’s enemies as a condition for being forgiven ourselves, for being whole; He said that, I didn’t.

He said that we do not live by bread alone; He asked what does it profit us if we gain the whole world and lose our very souls. He spoke of treating women with respect, He spoke of compassion and gave everyone He met a second chance. He said that we were to absolutely, and without equivocation believe in God and God’s unending love for us. We count far more than the sparrow that falls to the ground. Once more, He was mocked by the culture of His day for this decisive factor. He actually did those things: He fed the poor, healed the sick, took time with friends, He prayed and threw out the moneychanger, He hugged children and had little patience with Hypocrite-religious or otherwise.

His choices and values went against the values of the culture of His day and they had to silence Him; so they hung him on a cross. However, to the surprise of all, He did not stay dead. He rose again and showed us what He is really about. He is about happiness, a new way of life, about the decisions we make at business or school, honesty, caring and concern for others, ethics, fidelity, truth, making relationships work, keeping one’s word, life here and hereafter, real joy and fulfillment. So often, it seems that death and darkness have the upper hand.

Everywhere we turn war rages throughout our world, pandemics scare us into our homes and force distance between society, some of our friends and families face job loss, a major disruption to our routines and lives while others face the loss of their loved ones. But there is power at work in the very process of history that brings peace out of conflict, safety out of danger and life out of death.

The resurrection that we celebrate today is more than God’s answer to the problem of death. The resurrection of Christ has as much to say about living as about dying. The resurrection of Christ is a unique sign that this world, as well as, the world to come is filled with new beginnings. If we try to live as He died. Because of His resurrection, Christ has turned all of our sunsets into bright, glorious dawns. Only if we let Him.

[see-arcane]

one video game site describing the game's premise:

"In the trailer, Harker was perceived as a much more efficient and courageous vampire hunter, as opposed to the classic portrayal of Jonathan Harker in Bram Stoker’s books and films, including Dracula."

sir... sir... he literally killed dracula in the book...

You know.

I think this broke me just a little more. My camel back was already broken under so many straws, but I think this one made me collapse back in on myself.

So.

There's a lot to be said about the inspirational power of great works of media. Stories and masterpieces that spur wonder, love, and awe. The ones that give you a goal to aspire to in your own creative endeavors. The strive to match up to something great can do a lot.

But I'll tell you, friend. There is nothing quite as empowering as pure, unbridled spite. Just full-on loathing for every piece of half-assed, fan fictionified, self insert-riddled, character-botching, absolute shrug of a creative work that tries to hide under the disguise of a public domain title to cover for its inadequacies, and not only getting away with it because so much of the audience hasn't read the book, not only profiting off of it, but leaving a nigh irremovable stain on the entire pop cultural mind that is so hugely, categorically, monstrously Wrong, that the 'understanding' of the book and its characters is treated as offhand. Because 'everyone knows' it.

"Sure! Everyone knows Jonathan Harker doesn't have any real vampire hunting experience! That's all Van Helsing's shtick, what with him being the very definite for-real nemesis of Dracula, ha ha! Nice of these video game people to give the little guy a shot, eh?"

Just. Wow.

I am ready to make so, so much Jonathan Harker shit. Barking Harker? Sure. Absolutely. Doc's open right now. But maybe I'll do more. Love is my kindling, but bile is the fuel on the fire.

I can do Jonathan Harker as the Superior Dracula, complete with ripping Coppola's reincarnation love interest gimmick out his asshole and doing the Romantic Dracula Trope real justice. Why? BECAUSE IT'S ACTUALLY JONATHAN AND JONATHAN CAN PULL OFF THE WHITE-HAIRED PINING UNDEAD ROLE BETTER. How about that?

How about I make a whole ass script and screenplay for a Dracula series actually in line with the book? No creative license! No Dracula-wolf sex scenes or cheating fiancees or jealous suitors or dodging the el gee bee tee edges or turning Van Helsing into an anime man who saves the day! Just actual events that actually happened in the 125-year-old book that every modern adaptation is too cis-straight-scared to do! How about that?

How about I eat the heart out of every single Van Helsing-centric Monster Hunter series and anime and make it all about the Harkers, their friends, and/or their descendants? How about that?

How about the Harkers getting an eternal vampiric honeymoon after the Transylvanian trip goes bloodily south and they just go about their undead business forever and Dracula is nothing but a footnote in their story which he always was anyway? How about that?

HOW ABOUT I FLOOD THE WORLD WITH DRACULA CONTENT WHERE DRACULA IS NO MORE OR LESS THAN THE SADISTIC VILLAIN HE'S ALWAYS BEEN AND GETS HIS ASS KICKED AND HEAD CHOPPED LIKE THE LOSER BASTARD DESERVES???

HOW ABOUT THAT????

I WILL LIVE TO SEE A WORLD THAT REGISTERS EXACTLY HOW BADASS JONATHAN HARKER AND ALL OF THE HUMAN CAST IS, A WORLD THAT SEES DRACULA FOR THE UNDEAD UNDERWEAR STAIN HE ALWAYS WAS,

FOR I WILL CRAFT THAT WORLD MYSELF UPON THE BONES AND BLOOD OF THE INFINITE BASTARDIZATIONS THAT CAME BEFORE THEM!

I SHALL NOT SUFFER THESE ICE-COLD 'lol no I never touched the book but I kinda remember the wiki for the Coppola movie' TAKES FOR ALL ETERNITY. I WILL REWRITE THE PUBLIC OSMOSIS UNTIL ALL THEY KNOW OF DRACULA IS THAT JONATHAN HARKER KILLED HIM IN HIS DIRT BOX.

Anyway.

To all my Dracula Dailiers out there. I say again. Join me. While our little book club did wonders, the fact is, not a ton of people are going to ever bother with the dusty old novel. Spinoffs and sequels? Sure. But not (what they assume is) a dry old classic. Which leaves audiences and filmmakers caught in a perpetual profit and expectation-based loop.

People assume Dracula is Sexy-Suave Count Fuckula and that Mina hooks up with him while Van Helsing and [INSERT HUMAN NOBODIES HERE] are pushed to the sidelines. So that's what directors will keep churning out. Ditto for makers of books, comics, shows, and video games. It will just keep going in the same rut.

Unless we put some new blood out there. There are so many possibilities. So much that can be made to finally drag the spotlight away from the Count and give it back to the characters who deserve it.

So please. Please. Make that Dracula-derived thing you're unsure about. Even at its most indulgent and outlandish, you have read the book. And you know more about what you're doing than literally any so-called professional who's churned out their tired knockoffs of knockoffs. (Or the folks who take their opinions from the same.)