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eleanor-bradstreet · 2 years ago

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Alright, I’ve mopped myself up off the floor, re-hinged my jaw and cracked my knuckles to try and explain how this fic rode me roughshod to near ruin (geettttttt it) 🤪. Hoooo girl. I say ‘jealous Anthony’ and you give me ropes, riding crops, growling commands and ultimate dom control. Your girl needs to make it to the end of this series, and you are dangerously close to laying me out in a coma 🙃 Particularly threatening to my constitution were the following moments:

‘A warm finger catches the drip and pushes it back to your mouth, his pupils dilating. “Can’t quite swallow it all; that looks familiar,”’ OH MY GOD WE ARE SIX LINES IN FAYE!!! SIX 👏 LINES 👏 FORGET THE FOREPLAY WE’RE JUST PLOUGHING ON IN This is one of the filthiest things he says in the entire fic 😵 Holy fucking hellll…..I wasn’t sure I was going to survive this one. I was already electrified…

“We both know being on your knees is your favourite place after being face down over my desk,” JESUS FUCK STOP OH MY GOD THEY’RE NOT EVEN ALONE YET!!!! Benace? Move over. This is Annihilanthony. 🥵🤯

“They are an addictive cocktail.” Cocktail…manbread…this is my kind of happy hour 🍸

“There is all sorts of equipment in here I want to use on you,” Oh god, oh lord, my eyes are crossing already…. 😵😵😵

And then the discovery. I knew it was coming of course, but ooooooo how I stopped breathing! 😱 I can just hear him growling. Incredulous. Furious. It’s terrifying but also so damn enticing. The hair pulling, oooooofff. But then the cracks start to reveal themselves. He is hurt, genuinely. Kind of no one’s fault if they didn’t have exclusivity established. It still wounds me a bit to hurt Anthony’s heart though, my sweet damaged boy 😢 says the woman who thought up this whole damn scenario

Standing ovation for your allstar cleverness with the loophole 🤪 [insert loophole gif here] You should be an attorney because that is some crafty phrasing 😉

“Mutually assured destruction can seem so appealing behind glowing brown eyes and sharp cheekbones…This is why you can’t resist him. He knows how to give you things you never knew you needed but want so much your blood sings—makes you ache for him, addicted to him like no one else.” This is poetry. If folks were wondering what it was that draws Reader to Anthony, you’ve explained it right here. It’s the danger, the challenge, the excitement. The explosive release after being pushed to limits she didn’t know existed. He is a safe partner to explore the wildest kinks with. A place where she can completely let loose, be pleasured and work out her frustrations and guilt. Maybe it’s twisted, but it’s undeniably appealing, and so rare.

“ink, smokey cigars and the tang of money, all Anthony.” Shivers down my spine at this. 🫠

Thank you for including the deepthroating in this. 💙 (Sentences I didn’t think I’d ever write.) I know it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but lordt does it flip my wig 🥵 It was perfect - he wipes away her tears, gloating. And then “Take it” !!!!!!! I see what you did there, you sly thing!! 😉Annihilanthony’s catchphrase muahahahahaaa!!

“He has done exactly what you wanted; he has covered up Benedict’s mark on you with one of his own, bigger, better, bolder—so very Anthony. It almost feels akin to a twisted game of one-upmanship you will wear on your skin for a few days.” WOOOOOOOOO AAAGGGGGHHHHHHH The imagery of this - the sinful, twisted beauty of it all, fuccckkkkkkk. This is why I trust you with anything - take my lil baby one sentence prompt and go nuts, because you always deliver something compelling, gorgeous, and dare I say…profound 🫶

You’ve woven this into a few fics, but I ADORE how Anthony is so attentive that he can sense when Reader is floating off into sub lala land and he always commands her to stay present. It is both domming and endearing at the same time. It’s command and concern all rolled into three words. I fucking love it.

Okay, bondage is fun but has never been that high on my kink list. But SOMETHING about this precise image - this close up of Anthony’s hand: strong and veined, knuckles turning white as he grabs the rope around her back and twists it in his fist to hold her down tighter and give himself leverage, like he is mounting a rodeo bronco (seriously have you seen the way those guys grip?) There’s something so tantalizing about the contrast for me. These aristocratic hands with his sapphire ring, twisted into this rough rope to hold a lady down and drill into her it’s like…..*shiver* idk, it fucking DOES IT for me. Surprise, surprise, I guess….hand stuff is my favorite 😅 Seriously, this image in my brain is a whole story unto itself so THANK YOU for painting it!!

The orgasm control…..ummmmm…..an amazing surprise and so SO perfect for the dynamics that are going on……and also 💦

Then you weave all these similarities in between the brothers. The way Anthony so quickly untied her and rubbed her wrists, EXACTLY like Benedict did. The way they both curl up with her to recover. The way they both talk about challenging her (as she points out). You are setting her up for an impossible choice. They are both sensitive at heart, caring despite how different their demeanors (in and out of the bedroom) may be. As the saying goes: same, same, but different, but still same. How is a girl to choose???

Then oh shit. Loose lips sink ships. They sink relationships, girlie. WATCH OUT. OOOP, TOO LATE. Again, I’m upset with myself for upsetting Anthony. 😅 I remember you saying you were surprised how emotional this was getting and I understand, and LOVE it. You’re giving us raw Anthony. Realistic Anthony. Anthony the dom with a heart. It’s impossible to separate him from it. 🥺

Wow. Simply wow. Add tack rooms to the list of things I can no longer engage with without having lascivious thoughts inspired by your fics. Thankfully, I am not an equestrian nor an aristocrat with an expensive hobby so they should be easy to avoid. This was balanced so well. You had a lot of balls in the air (no, not THOSE ones) with the CNC, the emotions and the secrecy, and you juggled them perfectly. This was an explosive installment that satisfies all on its own but still leaves us wired for the crescendo 🔥 Masterful.

Reprimand

Double Bind Masterpost

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Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Follow on to Endeavour. Anthony suspects you may have been seduced by another and reprimands you.

Warnings: 18+smut, minors DNI, dom/sub relationships, mean dom, jealousy, consenting-non-consent (CNC) play, deepthroat breathplay, rope bondage, whipping with a riding crop, rough vaginal sex, orgasm control, emotions, confessions.

Word Count: 5.8k

Authors Note: Here is part 4 of the Double Bind series requested by @eleanor-bradstreet where our reader finds herself back with her original dom, Anthony. Please note, everything here is very consenting; they are just playing as if it's not. If that is at all triggering for you, please do not read this. Thank you to @colettebronte for the beta read, particularly around the CNC play. Enjoy! <3

The following night you see Anthony at a gathering—a very dull musical recital just a few doors down from Bridgerton House. He accompanies you as the respectable courting partner, your gloved wrist gently resting in the crook of his arm as you circuit the room before the show.

Once the decidedly mediocre entertainment begins, he leans close to your ear.

“You have about five more minutes, then we are leaving,” he drawls quietly.

“Where are we going, my lord?” you whisper back.

“Anywhere I can fuck you,” he states plainly as you struggle not to spit out the champagne you just sipped, a dribble still escaping down your chin that you attempt to dab away discreetly. He intentionally did that—waited to drop that line when you were taking a swig.

A warm finger catches the drip and pushes it back to your mouth, his pupils dilating. “Can’t quite swallow it all; that looks familiar,” he murmurs, intentionally being utterly filthy.

“Anthony!” you admonish quietly but fiercely.

“We both know being on your knees is your favourite place after being face down over my desk,” he mutters, knowing this sort of talk always gets you breathless.

And indeed, it does. “Are those five minutes up?” you ask archly.

Wordlessly, with a bemused huff, he grabs your hand and pulls you out into the aisle, briskly walking towards the rear of the room and out of the door. He keeps marching, out of the building, into the street, making a beeline for his home less than a hundred yards away.

“Your family…?” you check as you realise where he is headed.

“All at that dreaded recital. The house shall be empty except for staff. Not that it is consequential, for we are not going into the house,” he smirks back at you.

“Where are we going?” you ask as you realise he has veered into the mews running behind his property.

“Stables,” he answers as if that explains everything.

“Why?”

“You are asking an awful lot of questions tonight,” he comments, then pauses and crowds you into a cold brick wall in the narrow dark lane. “How about you trust me and just do as you are told, you wilful little thing?” his warm breath gusts over your cheek.

Oh. It's already playtime.

“Yes, sir,” you respond instantly, and he nods and beams at you.

“Good girl,” he compliments, grabbing your chin. “Now, you will do whatever I tell you from here on out. Do you understand me?

“Yes sir,” your breath speeding up, excitement flaring low in your belly.

“I do so love you obedient,” he sighs and kisses you bruisingly, trapping you forcefully between his body and the wall. “Take off your underwear,” he commands.

“I'm not wearing any,” you stumble honestly.

He growls, “I love when you do that, behaving like a wanton whore.” He knows how aroused you get when he calls you that in play. “Show me right now; pull up your dress.”

You scramble to obey, but he quickly stills your movement. “I see people in the window of our neighbour's house. We should move on,” he offers sagely, stepping out of character and retaking your hand.

Anthony has never been one to attempt play in public; his image as Viscount so very important to maintain. And so contrasting to his younger, bohemian brother, memories of Benedict’s sinful voice talking of you crawling naked to him in front of strangers suddenly haunt you. How can they be both so very alike and so very different simultaneously? They are an addictive cocktail.

You continue down the mews until a gate leads you into a rear courtyard—this must be the back of Bridgerton House.

“Wait here,” he says curtly, disappearing into a side building. “Alright, you may come in; the coast is clear,” he calls a few moments later, and you follow.

It's the tack room for the stables. It smells of leather and brass. It’s warm and dry; the mahogany wood-panelled walls give it a cosy air.

“What are we doing in here?”

“There is all sorts of equipment in here I want to use on you,” he crows, closing the heavy door shut and bolting it. The only light in the room is a faint glow from the oil lanterns flickering on the courtyard walls outside and a shaft of moonlight splicing across the room from a high window.

Something in your heart rate spikes as your eyes adjust and look around to see saddles, bridals, whips and ropes. And in the middle of the room, a padded leather bench likely used to change into riding boots.

“Now, do as you were told before we were rudely interrupted,” he prompts, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms casually, an expectant eyebrow raised.

You grab your dress and gather the layers over your forearms until you feel the air swirling around your intimate area. He growls at the sight and is on you a millisecond later, kissing bruisingly, just the way you like. There is nothing more arousing for you than Anthony, this powerful, titled man, so very desperate and out of control just for you. He spins you around, and you are pushed into the wood panels, his hands wrenching open your dress buttons as you breathe hard.

“Open your legs wider,” he gruffs, nudging your ankles with his shoe. You do so, widening your stance to shoulder width as your dress and chemise are yanked off your shoulders. “Wider,” he instructs as your clothing drops to a pool at your feet.

You obey, kicking away your dress, standing there now in stays and silk shoes only.

“Good girl,” he compliments, pulling your hips backwards roughly, your hands reaching out to grab the wall in front on instinct. “That's it, bend over, and hold on tight,” he orders.

Your insides dance with anticipation as he drops to his knees behind you. He is usually savage with his tongue when he eats you from behind like this—pushing his whole face into your slit, into the cleft of your cheeks, very thorough in his attentions. So you are somewhat surprised when he doesn't do that. In fact, he is silent behind you for so long you almost ask what is wrong.

“What… the… fuck….is that?” he spits angrily. But it's not his play angry; it sounds worryingly close to genuine.

‘What is what?” you ask, suddenly nervous, twisting to look over your shoulder.

He jumps up to his feet and yanks you roughly back upright against him by your hair, and you squeak in shock.

“Care to explain why there are teeth marks on your inner thigh, my girl?” his voice cutting and right at your ear.

Your stomach plummets as if you have fallen from a high branch of a tree or gone over a waterfall in a barrel. Everything inside you tumbles, and your vision swims slightly.

Benedict.

It could ONLY be him—last night. You vaguely recall feeling him bite your inner thigh as he teased you. But you were so deliriously aroused you barely felt anything. Washing this morning, you did not think to look there; you just quickly bathed and went about your day.

“It cannot be, sir,” you instantly obfuscate. “It must be a mark, from I do not know what…. from my saddle, perhaps?” you offer, taking inspiration from what is right around you.

His grip on your hair slackens. You are uncertain he believes you. Something feels tender at this moment. Precarious. Like he is vulnerable to what the marks could signify but cannot handle his response in any other way but brusquely—needing the upper hand.

“I have been foolish, perhaps, in not being clear with my boundaries. So here they are. If you are with a Bridgerton, you should only be laying with a Bridgerton, do you hear me?” he lectures, unwittingly giving you a very convenient loophole.

“Yes, sir,” you answer instantly. “I shall only lay with a Bridgerton,” you reply, almost gleeful.

“Why does that appear so entertaining?” he asks cuttingly.

“It is not, sir,” you attempt to school your expression and tone, “more that your order is very… arousing for me, sir,” your response coquettish, knowing the diversionary flattery will work on him.

“You want to be owned by me?” he gusts hot in your ear, a warm hand snaking around your belly, pulling you back forcefully into his muscular frame.

“Yes, of course, sir”, you answer. “I want to wear your name with pride,” you pant gently, slipping into your submissive role with practised ease.

“I will brand your bottom with the family crest,” he snarls, the possessive rhetoric notching up significantly.

You goad him with a challenging look over your shoulder and roll your hips, catching your bottom on the growing hardness in the front of his trousers, knowing it will spur some kind of response.

“You wanton little whore, rubbing yourself on me like some animal in heat just because I offer to brand you with my name,” he rumbles, enjoying your tactics, grabbing your chin and making you look at him as he leans forward over your shoulder. “I should tie you up and whip you to make you obey me,” he declares, staring into your eyes.

You suddenly know why he has brought you here, to this room—to try some more advanced punishment. The fact there is now the added dimension of his suspicion makes it feel even more charged, like the static before a storm. You can't seem to look away from his turbulent mien, knowing tonight will be something new and exciting. You can feel butterflies against your ribs as he speaks again.

“You would just hate that, wouldn't you?” he smirks, and you intuit what he wants.

This is a power play to make you remember who is in charge, a way to brand you as his symbolically, not physically. By making you pretend you don’t want this as much as you do. Achingly so.

“You want to play that game?” you check quietly, ensuring what you think is happening is true.

“You are so very observant, my smart girl,” he whispers flatteringly, and you know exactly what to do next.

“Sir, please don’t,” you play up, voice getting louder, twisting to catch his eye and winking, letting him know your reticence is all for the scene.

“Who said you have any say in what happens?” he chuckles darkly, his hold tightening as he roughly strips your stays from your body so you are completely naked.

This. You perhaps shouldn’t want this, but by god, you do—a little twisted role play. Elation ripples through your body. Somehow you know you both need this today. Anthony to process his suspicions about the bitemark. You, cathartic release of the guilt you carry about your tryst with Benedict. Perhaps it's a dangerous path to walk; you know you are likely playing with fire, but with Anthony, by god, it's nothing but excitement. Mutually assured destruction can seem so appealing behind glowing brown eyes and sharp cheekbones.

“Please, sir, no!” you ratchet up your theatrics, struggling slightly in his hold as he spins you around to face him.

“Shut up!” he grouses and pushes you down to your knees with a firm grip on your hair. “Now, if you don't keep quiet, I will find a way to silence you,” he warns, yanking your head back so you look up at him.

And you know what is coming, your thighs rubbing together almost gleefully at the prospect. Your insides roil excitedly at the idea of him using you, rough and rugged, as you pretend it is against your will. Trust Anthony to take you to the edge of your needs, push your envelope and make you crave him. This is why you can’t resist him. He knows how to give you things you never knew you needed but want so much your blood sings—makes you ache for him, addicted to him like no one else.

You stay on your knees, panting lightly with anticipation as he walks away briefly, his boots seeming to clatter much louder as he returns. He yanks your hands behind your back, and you feel a thin rope wrapping around your wrists.

“You know your safety word and action,” he leans over and mutters in your ear, and you nod, twisting to meet his eye. Confirming that today no won't mean stop; only that word or gesture will.

“No sir, please, no god, I’m sorry; please don't tie me up,” you act up.

He laughs menacingly and keeps looping the rope, tying it off with what feels like a bow. Then a hand grabs your jaw.

“Too late for that; open your mouth,” he commands gruffly.

You instantly obey as two fingers slide thickly over your tongue. They taste of ink, smokey cigars and the tang of money, all Anthony.

“Now I know a certain way to stop this little mouth from being so insolent,” he states, casually pinching your tongue before pulling out his fingers.

“No sir, please, please don’t,” you volley back, a flash in your eyes as you lick your lips, your gaze falling to the tented shape in his trousers as he roughly unbuttons them.

His cock springs free, and you feel a frisson over your skin as you drink in the sight of it, already rigid and leaking. Without preamble, he grabs the back of your head; you can barely take a steadying breath before he pushes into you, hot over your tongue, not gentle in using you, nudging towards the back of your mouth. His cock is always so surprising in size, especially when he does this, showing you no mercy. Gripping your hair and starting a rhythm that pushes deeper on every stroke until he holds your nose pressed up to his body, filling your throat. You want to cough, speak, do anything, but he holds steady, his scent so potent.

With your hands tied as they are, you have no control over how he uses you, but you are determined not to give you safety action, to take the punishment he wants to meter out. Your clit throbs as your lungs burn for air—heady and intoxicating. Still, he does not allow you reprieve.

“Look up at me.” You tilt your eyes up as water gathers at the corner of your lashes. His thumb swipes through them. “Finally, she is silent and obedient,” he chuckles richly, his cock vibrating in your throat, “and looking so pretty on her knees, taking all of me.”

He pulls halfway out, and you inhale sharply before he pushes back in with a groan, and you are again unable to breathe. You want this so much your thighs dampen, and you look back up at him with wide, pleading eyes, playing the part of the victim you most definitely are not.

“Take it,” he stutters gruffly as you feel your throat convulse slightly, wanting to gag. “Stay down,” he orders, crushing your face into his body, his balls against your chin. You feel a pulse in his cock and then a sour tang, that little salty bead of pre-cum sliding down your gullet.

Just as you begin to struggle for air and feel woozy light-headedness, he pulls out entirely, ropes of saliva webbing from your mouth to his glistening tip as you gasp deeply, your throat burning.

“Get on your hands and knees and crawl to that bench,” he grits out, and you do as told, taking a few crawled paces to the padded leather bench in the middle of the room as he loosely refastens his trousers. Your deep wracking breathing sounds so loud, even in the wood-panelled room, as he tells you to climb up and straddle it face down.

“If you move an inch or make a noise, this will be much worse for you,” he threatens.“You will be whipped, and then you will take my cock. Maybe then you will finally remember who you belong to.”

“Please, sir, no,” your protesting murmur is weak and raspy as your throat recovers, but you turn slightly to meet his gaze challengingly, eyes blazing. You had better fuck me so hard, you mouth silently at him.

He twists his face into a bemused pout. I will, you wilful little one, he mouths back.

“Now, do I need to tie you to the bench, too?” he warns, but you get no chance to challenge it as, almost instantly, more rope loops around your back and under the bench you lay on.

Fire flares in your belly; he has never tied you down so wholly. You cannot wiggle free of this; you are entirely at his mercy. The leather sticks slightly to your heated cheek as a hand spanks a glancing blow onto your left bottom cheek, and you groan and push your hips down into the padded leather. Everywhere between your legs tingles, aches even, and feels hot, getting off on the thrill of submitting to his will, the utter commanding way he handles you. You need him to put his mark on you. To make it bigger, better than his brother’s.

“Make it hurt,” you sigh, barely a breath. But you know he hears it from the sharp inhale he makes.

You look back at him pleadingly. It could be the look of a captive pleading for mercy from their captor; it could be the look of a willing participant in a provocative game, conveying just how much they want this. Indeed, it’s both, so many layers swirling in this erotically charged moment.

“My girl, you will feel it and remember tonight,” his voice a low forewarning.

You twist to watch Anthony walk away and snag a riding crop from the selection hanging on nearby hooks, heart speeding up as he walks near your head, brandishing the implement. The cool leather tongue brushes the nape of your neck. He traces it slowly, achingly so, down the length of your spine to where your bound hands lay. Your body shivers in response, and he chuckles, seemingly delighted at how he can elicit such reactions from you.

He leans low over your back, the crop raising from your skin. “Now you can't run and get help; no one is coming to rescue you from me,” he growls. Something in the tone suggests bitter experience.

There is a faint, almost whistling sound in the air then you feel a sting lashing across your left buttock. The strength of this first blow is sharp, taking you by surprise, and you yelp in response.

“Be quiet!” he orders roughly, grabbing your hair. “Or do I need to gag you as well?”

“Please, sir, don't,” your lips plead while your mind hopes he might. You enjoy it when he gags you, especially with his cravat, as he did just a few days ago during your last encounter at Aubrey Hall. That fateful night you physically bumped into his younger brother.

Anthony releases your hair as Benedict's voice and face fill your mind. A similar blow to your right bottom cheek brings you back into the room, and you groan loudly, grinding against the bench, feeling the rope around your waist resisting your movements. He is pacing around you in a circle, his footsteps echoing up the walls; you pant in anticipation, trying to crane your head to track his movements.

The crop tickles your open, bound hand, then traces up the inside of your arm, so ticklish you try to tamp down a giggle. Then you gasp as he flicks the crop on your upper arm across the flesh of your muscle there. The leather tongue drags back down to your hands, then swaps to the other, tracing up your arm in that prickly way until, again, there is a flick to the other bicep. You sense it's coming but still whimper slightly at the lick.

It's a guessing game about what he will do next. These flicks on your arms have been light, not like the force he used on your bottom, but enough to sting and keep you on your toes.

“I do so enjoy the slight of you bound,” he hums, almost absent-minded, as the crop trails back down your arm over your hands, your fingertips and onto your lower spine.

“Please, sir, don’t hurt me,” you play up, panting with anticipation about where he might strike next.

“What part of ‘be quiet’ are you not understanding?” he utters through clenched teeth; it’s all the warning you get before the crop reigns a sharp blow onto the back of your thigh, right below where it meets your bottom.

You hiss and writhe as the crop insinuates between your legs, encouraging them further apart.

“If you keep talking, I will crop you right here,” he cautions, running the smooth leather tab over your labia. You fold your lower lip into your mouth to censor any response you might have. “Good girl,” he intones, and the crop is gone.

You are almost relaxing into the soft bench when he strikes a lick onto your ribs, it's not hard, but it takes you by surprise; your yelp is instinctual. Then with an almost predatory gleam in his normally beguiling eyes, he rains little blows across your back. Short, sharp lashes that sting, not hurting but not pleasant. You flinch at every blow but feel a paradoxical sense of relief with each one, the discomfort as cleansing as it is arousing.

It's when the crop disappears between your thighs that you tense slightly. But he does not flick it against your pussy; he holds it over the spot you assume are the teeth marks, his breathing uneven. Then with a determined glint, he lashes the area hard, and you feel redness instantly bloom there as you cry out. He has done exactly what you wanted; he has covered up Benedict's mark on you with one of his own, bigger, better, bolder—so very Anthony. It almost feels akin to a twisted game of one-upmanship you will wear on your skin for a few days.

Then he flicks little marks on the back of your thighs and buttocks. Again each one feels like absolution and a step higher towards a blissful state where you float outside your body, utterly pliant to his demands and treatment.

“Stay with me,” he dictates.

He senses you slipping into a subspace but wants you alert and responsive to every move he makes.

“Who do you belong to?” his question is a bark.

“You.” It's a reflex.

“And only me, do you understand me? I will not share,” he grits out.

“Yes sir,” you slur as the crop makes one last resounding blow on your cheek, so forceful you scream.

There is a clatter as the crop falls to the ground, and he is tearing off his clothing as you watch covetously and panting with anticipation, your skin burning hot in the places he has cropped you.

“No sir, please don’t take me,” you fib with a small smile, catching sight of his delicious, engorged cock as he strips.

“Oh, but you are mine to take,” he laughs menacingly as he rounds behind you, kneeling on the floor where he lines up to enter you.

With a grunt from him and a cry from you, he plunges into your body; the stretching invasion always steals your breath. The artifice of the game you have been playing falls away as you sigh his name and murmur for him to please take you hard, wanting him to fuck all the guilt out of you.

And he does what you need. He shows no mercy as he grasps the rope around your back in his fist so it digs into the sensitive flesh of your sides and begins a punishing rhythm. Thrusting with such force, your whole body rolls, the bench squeaking in protest. You struggle to form thoughts and just quieten your mind, lean into the intensity of it—allowing your body to be used, taken, finding pleasure in your passivity.

His hand spanks a glancing blow over your left cheek that he has left flecked with crop marks, and you squeal at the layering of this sharp pang over the dull throb from his earlier discipline.

“Keep quiet,” he hisses, leaning over your back and biting the nape of your neck. His incisors grabbing flesh and pulling, a pinching searing pang you know will mean teeth marks and wearing scarves to cover up until they fade.

You are shocked at how fast your body is hurtling towards a climax, your clit squashed into the rounded end of the bench as he fucks into you. You start to pant little noises and writhe in your bindings, your wrists still in the small of your back, starting to feel pins and needles as your movement causes the rope to dig in harder.

“You are so very close,” he observes, suddenly holding still, buried deep inside you. “That will not do,” his tone almost disappointed, “do not come yet”.

You fight the urge, your pussy squeezed tight around him, fighting the little convulsions you feel, every inch of his cock engraving on your walls like he is leaving his imprint inside you.

“I mean it,” he warns, “you will not come until I permit it.”

“Yes sir,” you croak, gusting hot breaths into the bench and trying to calm your body. To stave off your orgasm until he allows it.

Then there are fingers resting on your clit, and you inhale sharply, twisting in your binding to look at him over your shoulder, something wild in his manner, his eyes glittering.

“No,” he says firmly as he teases your bud with expertise, edging you but refusing permission to let you break.

“This is not fair,” you groan, puffing hard as he begins to fuck you again, this time with an unhurried rhythm, withdrawing then surging in as his fingertips expertly hook under your hood to massage your engorged little nub.

“Fair is not my concern,” he dismisses, “what is my concern is demanding your utter obedience.”

Every ounce of your body is aflame, the tension of holding to a precipice as each welt on your body throbs in sympatico with your clit.

“Please,” you mumble, unsure you can stem the tide building; obey his rules.

His grip on your bum tightens as he spears into you roughly, making you grunt as your whole body rocks with the force. Boring into you now, unforgiving in his mounting of you, he once again wraps the rope that lashes you down around his knuckles, ensuring you gasp at the harsh binding, the rough fibres repeatedly rubbing until small welts appear.

He is setting an almost punishing pace, ploughing into your body repeatedly as you listen to his panting breaths, desperate for his consent to release all the tension, almost an unbearable weight.

He spanks your right cheek for good measure. You moan, and the pleasure-pain that blossoms makes your break impossible to fight anymore. Your eyes screw shut as his fingers slide over your sensitive bud, the grip of his spanking hand now banded around the crest of your hipbone, strong enough to leave more marks on your delicate flesh.

“You may,” he pants, perhaps sensing the inevitable.

You call his name and bury your nose into the bench, your teeth snarling and biting against the leather as your body, denied over and over, finally relents, your pussy palpitating around him so harshly you almost propel him from your body. Each synapse firing so hard your mind blanks out, a snapping of something inside that is your tether to reality. Then you are floating, somewhere far away, on a cloud of throbbing skin and pumping heartbeats, the pain transmogrifying into something beautiful, like amnesty, appeasement, peace.

You are barely cognisant as he rapidly withdraws from your body with a shout, spilling his seed onto your aching cheeks, the splash of it somehow both stinging and soothing the ache, bringing you back into the room as he slumps over your back, head between your shoulder blades.

For a few moments, there is nothing but the joint sound of your laboured breathing and the creek of the rope as you shift lightly under his weight.

“That was… truly something else,” he pants, drawing upright to untie your body and wrists delicately.

“It really was,” you agree, as he rubs the sore spots on your wrists from the chafe of the rope.

“Thank you. For giving me your trust like that,” Anthony says quietly, sincerely. “It is a rare thing to play like this…. Very rare indeed.”

He looks so thoughtful you don't know what to say in response. “Any time, Anthony. It was a very cathartic experience for me,” you admit honestly. “Something so freeing about playing that role for you,” you clarify before he asks what you mean, Benedict’s face flashing in your mind, guilt flooding your heart.

He jumps up, gathers a padded blanket from a hook, and lays it on the ground, pulling you into an embrace atop it. You settle into his arms, allowing your body to feel soothed by his idle, gentle strokes as he speaks again.

“I have come to realise that you are chasing challenging experiences. And my darling girl, I always want to be the one, the only one, worthy and able to do that, to challenge you in all the ways you may need,” he offers as he nuzzles your temple, dropping a light kiss there.

“That's so funny; Benedict was just saying the same last night,” you giggle lightly, your idle tongue running away from you in your post-orgasmic haze.

“You talk to my brother about such matters?” He freezes and sounds strange as he says it, and instantly you wince inside but try not to let it show.

“Sometimes he and I talk. Of you and I, our compatibility, our courtship,” you attempt breezy nonchalance, gesturing into the air. “We bumped into each other at the Trowbridge Ball, and perhaps I had too much champagne,” you offer, relieved that partial truths and alcohol may explain how you came to talk of such matters with his brother.

“But you said this was last night?” Anthony argues, slowly twisting and sitting up away from you. “And the Trowbridge Ball was two nights ago. I should know; I was not well that day.”

Bile rises in your throat. You try not to let your panic show on your face, but you suspect your acting skills may be somewhat lacking. “Oh, of course, I… I am mixing up my days. The season is such a whirl, is it not?” You overshoot, mugging a smile too large and too brittle, clutching at proverbial straws.

You sit up and instinctively grab your chemise to cover yourself up, feeling the need for a physical layer of protection, your skin registering a cold draft that breezes along the floor, making you shiver. There is a few moments of silence where you curl your lip under your teeth. Scared, you will slip up more, knowing Anthony is too smart not to see it.

“I thought I warned you to stay away from him,” he intones, his voice going low.

“Come on, Anthony. He is your family; why would I not talk to your family? To the outside world, at least, we are courting.” You try to appeal to his logical side.

“Do you converse with Colin? Do you talk such intimate things with him?” He bristles, and you stay silent. Knowing what he points out is true. You have barely spoken more than five words to Colin, all mundane. “Yes. As I thought,” he adds, more than a little bitter. “And I find it strange that I went to call on you yesterday afternoon to apologise for being unable to accompany you to the ball, only to be told you were not home. That you were, in fact, receiving art lessons from my brother. Indeed, your family valet seemed most perplexed that I was not aware, seeing as I had apparently arranged the whole thing.”

Oh god.

He knows.

He knows something is happening between you and Benedict. And he has kept it in until now. Again you are tumbling over that waterfall. Suddenly, so much of tonight takes on more nuance than you could possibly have imagined: the desperation, the possessiveness, the want to tie you down and punish you hard, the now-weighted phrase that no one is coming to rescue you. Part of you wants to run away, be sick to your stomach, but part of you wants to stay and fight.

“Anthony…” you appeal, not knowing what else to say.

“Don't,” he chides, and you feel him building up his walls, brick by brick, cutting you off. “But thank you for confirming what I didn't want to know. You may leave,” he adds bitterly, and you can see untold hurt in his eyes.

You can see that trying to reason with him is a lost cause at this moment. So silently, you pull your stays on loosely over your chemise and then your dress, the initial panic giving way to a melancholy sinking into your bones about how he is closing himself off. You slip out of the stable door and don't allow yourself the luxury of a glance back, or even a tear, as you walk the few hundred yards back to the recital venue and your awaiting carriage.

You suspect that were it any other man, Anthony would not be so very agitated—his younger brother very much his Achilles heel, right from that first warning at Aubrey Hall. Perhaps he sees something in you that is a kindred spirit to Benedict more than to himself and fears the choice you may make. Little does he know, you crave them equally and more than ever, even as you feel uncertain about where you stand with either brother now. Both knowing of your dalliance with the other, and neither happy about it—precisely what you didn't want. In hindsight, it was never going to be easy playing off both brothers. But you never expected Anthony’s reaction to be so emotional, the hidden depths he keeps so well concealed under the mask of responsibility.

And things are about to get even more complicated when Benedict sees what Anthony has done….

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

#fic rec #go read it!#Queen Faye came to slay #talented author #I dont deserve such a talented pal #tie me up tie me down #but ouch my heart sweet Anthony #Annihilanthony #new hand kink discovered apparently #aristocratic hands doing plebian things

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meichenxi · 3 years ago

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Beginners’ Gaelic resources

My mother’s family are native Gaelic speakers (Scottish Gaelic, not Irish), and the family that lives on the Western Isles still speaks Gaelic with their children. Many of my cousins are native bilingual speakers, but I grew up in England and was divorced from all of that. I tried to learn Gaelic as a child, but my grandparents actively discouraged it and eventually I stopped.

A while ago it occurred to me: how is it I am learning Chinese when I can’t even speak their language? Or Welsh, or any of the languages of the UK? How can I think about language endangerment in other countries when I can’t speak Gaelic, as someone with half of their family from the islands? It seems bizarre when you frame it in those terms.

Throughout the last few months Gaelic has been a casual on-again off-again project for rainy days, when Chinese gets too onerous. I’m keeping it light and fun, because I know I’ll be here for the long ride. Here are some of the resources I’ve been using:

1) Learn Gaelic with Jason: https://gaelicwithjason.thinkific.com - Jason is an American who developed an interest in Gaelic from a young age, with a degree from Sabhal Mòr Ostaig on Skye. This course is paid, but it’s one of the best things I’ve found - not just for Gaelic, but for *any* language. It’s a series of complete immersive videos about 20-30 minutes long requiring no prior knowledge, building on each other. Jason really understands the idea of comprehensible input, and I could learn a lot from him as a teacher. He also hosts the lessons in a yurt, is a terrible drawer, and wears a torque. Cool guy.

You can check out his videos for free here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVX7RajLZmm8i7LEuli05tw

Jason also has an intermediate course where he teaches Gaelic through folk tales from Scotland and Ireland which I will definitely use once I get there. It’s a wonderful way into stories I heard as a kid and have partly forgotten.

2) Jason’s graded readers: Yes I love this man. He is a god. I’m not going to link to Amazon, but he has two graded readers and working on more. This is my favourite method of learning: of just opening a book and going ‘That..looks like...a verb?’ Very repetitive language, very high frequency, with an absolutely excellent glossary at the back - plus you get to read some lovely folk-tales. I’ve learnt so much from the one I have.

3) https://learngaelic.scot : this is one of the best websites there is. It is a modern, well-designed accumulation of Stuff - it has flashcards, links to the old BBC Alba video series (highly recommended), grammar explanations, audio, more flashcards. And also tips for each level. They also have a YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCqZrsYGwxA0g1KA3nKB6Y_A

4) Speaking Our Language: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxeyZABaHeI&list=PLX1DGbPK9r2HHyLN062V_ASbIh3xXpyvb - This is a great playlist, very nicely old-fashioned, of Gaelic spoken in context for beginners.

5) Learn Gaelic dictionary: https://learngaelic.scot/dictionary/index.jsp - This has sound, which is crucial

6) Beag air Bheag podcast on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/34wGOU9sDTE7Vzg0qMexfv?si=2dF4YuqNQy6vdEL_smON4g&dl_branch=1 - Look. I understand none of this. But it’s an amazing podcast for intermediate learners, and I enjoy getting the occasional ‘agus’, ‘sin ceart’ and ‘ooooooo thaaaaaaaaa’. It’s nice to hear different accents and other learners too.

7) GLOSSIKA!!!!!! I know what you’re thinking but - and it’s a big but - Glossika is free for certain small languages, and Gaelic is one of them!!! I’d really really recommend it, but best probably after the first 200 or so words to get the most from it. Basically it’s spaced repetition listening, and spoken importantly at a normal pace. Use glossika.

(Also, for other languages, the free PDFs with standard IPA is available, uhh....quite easily...if you look..)

If anyone has any other resources you’d recommend for beginner level, let me know!! At the moment I’m more than preoccupied with Jason’s course and book, and Wiki as ever has all the grammar I need. For vocabulary, I’m not using Anki or anything specific yet, just memorising as I go along. It’s all very chill, and we’ll see how it goes.

I...don’t know how to say 加油 in Gaelic. But. You get the picture.

- meichenxi out.

#gaelic #Scottish Gaelic #learn gaelic #langblr #studyblr #resources #gaelic resources #Scottish Gaelic resources

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itlivesproject · 2 years ago

Note

Daily Anon is backkkkk

I ALREADY LOST SO MUCH NERVE AHHHHHHH SCREW U MONSTERS WHO KILLED THEIR FAM

Ok honestly, hon, listen to Amalia. ACs do be like that sometimes tho lol

Oooooo lemon pie eh? Noice.

Demn hot chocolate, it's damn hot where i live but I'm craving one rn and idk why the polar express hot chocolate song started playing in my hand😭😭😭

OOO HOT CHOCOLATE! HOT HOT! YEAH HOT CHOCOLATE!

HIII LINKYYYYYYYY

Awww come on Lincoln won't even appreciate me for looking gorgeous?

Idk why but it was love at first sight with Linky for me. WHAT IS IT ABOUT BROODING PSYCHOMETRIC MEN WITH PONYTAILS???

WHY R WE GOING INTO THE LIBRARY NO PLS

Lolololol Amalia's a philosophy nerd lol

I WANT A FRIENDSHIP DYNAMIC LIKE AMALIA AND MC WAAAAAAAAAA

🤺🤺🤺 BACK CREEPY LADY WITH GLOWING EYES🤺🤺🤺 BACK I SAY🤺🤺🤺

Bruh this woman leaves and a vine monster takes Jessica? Sus.

TAKE THE SHOT WOMAN JESSIE GONNA DIE

Why are monsters attacking us from everywhere??? First a dog then the bear thing??? Come on man

HIIII TALIAAAAAA HOW U DOIN

STILL THE CUTE GHOST I SEE

Talia is my ilitw mc btw

Ooooooo noah's here toooo

hi noah u haven't changed at all same beanie cap and everything huh

Oo it finished. Welp that's all folks!!! Sorry for the loooooooooooooong review

#do not apologize we literally love u #mod eri #anon #ask #daily anon

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jessefandomunited · 4 years ago

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This day was going to be perfect- Part 4

OooOOoo it’s getting good now folks! hope you enjoy

-warning F bomb and some fighting in this one-

~When the reader , who’s had a long time crush on Spencer, finds out Cat Adams is getting out of Prison on parole and wanting to talk to Spencer, she can’t help but be a bit suspicious.~

This fic was inspired by the song “ This day is going to be perfect” - MLP. enjoy

tag list: @raggabashie

I was going over to Cat’s place to kind of finalize the things with her. While I have been planning this I wanted to stay away from her as long as I could but with the Wedding this weekend I really couldn’t say I was sick and do skype calls anymore. Pulling up to her house gave me this overwhelming feeling of dread, I just didn’t trust her, as much as I wanted to for Spencer's sake I just couldn’t. I wanted to tell the rest of the team my feeling but apparently that dinner made all of them Cat appreciators , maybe something happened after I left. Either way I was just wanting to get in give her all the additional stuff I haven't given her and tell her the new things that I found since the last time we spoke and get out. It was all nicely organized in a binder so this meeting could be quick and efficient. I was about to knock on the door when I heard Cat talking . These houses had small closed off yards it wasn’t big but it had a gate that hid me enough so I could listen in on her conversation. “ Yes everything is going fine,” She said in a whisper, I had to strain to hear. In fact, because it was so quiet, I got out my phone on impulse and started filming. If anything I could raise the volume and catch more of the conversation. “The stuff you gave me works like a charm he doesn't even seem to notice it anymore.” That didn’t sound right, I bit my lip and tried to quiet my rapid breathing. “ He’s gone getting things ready for this weekend, I think he’s getting his suit, only that stupid friend of his is coming over today, honestly I could spray her too but what’s the point she’s been suspicious of me since the start at this point he believes anything I say and when it comes time I stop giving it to him , he’ll look around and see everything he has lost and you will get your revenge.” My mind started firing on all cylinders currently there was one person and one person only who not only had a collection of mind altering drugs but was out to destroy each of our teams lives, Scratch. How he got in contact with Cat I wasn’t sure, but I was mad. I turned off the recording and put it in my bag before marching up to the door and knocked so hard my knuckles hurt. I should have just turned and ran but I wanted to tell her to her face that I was going to stop her at all cost, Spencer had been though enough. The door opened and Cat knew that something was very wrong. I slammed the binder on the floor and yelled, “ WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE FOOLING, I HEARD EVERYTHING !” She didn’t even look phased and smirked, “ Oh did you now, whatever will I do.” “ You’re going to leave Spencer alone and go back to prison where you belong,” I hissed. “ You know that’s not very nice for someone whos suppose to be Spence’s best friend,” She pouted ,” Do you know how much he talks about you?Honestly too much, are you maybe a bit upset he chose me over you, that’s really got to hurt, were you too shy to share your feelings, oh boo hoo, too late.” I couldn’t breath I was so mad I was shaking more and more and finally in a fit of rage I shoved her to the ground, “ I know you’re working with Scratch don’t lie to me !” She looked up indifferent ,” what if I was what’s it to you, do you maybe have feeling’s for little Spency? That’s just soooo cute isn’t it.” “ SHUT UP,” I yelled , I wanted to punch her so bad I was getting flashbacks of when I was bullied in highschool, I couldn’t cry not now and I couldn’t break I had to get out of here. “ Hit me , come on you coward , how can you even claim to be his best friend if you can’t even defend him,” She jeered . Without thinking I fell to my knees and punched her she didn’t stop and merely laughed at me. I continued blind furious my hand missing most times and just hitting the wood floor but I landed a few good blows. However after a few minuets I felt myself being dragged back by someone. “ LET ME GO,” I yelled, “ She’s trying to hurt Spence...” I looked up to see Spencer was the one hauling me away and all the color drained from my face. She must have called him when she heard me knocking. “ What is going on, WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING HER, I thought you were my friend why are you punching the one woman I love more that anything,” He said with more rage I had ever seen in him. Tears were pouring down my face now and I stammered, “ she’s tricking you it’s Scratch and her they’re trying to ruin your life.” Spencer shook his head, a look of disgust on his face, “ I can’t believe you would stoop this low, I know you were suspicious of her but this is insane. “ “ Spencer listen to me please she’s really tricking you please, please listen to me,” I begged as he began pushing me out the door. “ I think we’re done here, get out, we are no longer friends in fact, don’t even bother coming to the wedding,” He said it in a robotic tone, he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t , this wasn’t him. “ Spence,” I whimpered, but the door slammed and I was left alone. I stumbled over and sat next to my car, crying my eyes out. I couldn’t believe what had just happened, my best friend is being drugged and he’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life. I did some deep breathing but I was still shaking more than ever. I knew I needed to send that video to the team I needed to let them know but as I went to grab my phone, I was knocked out from behind.

#Criminal Minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

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bottomlwjrights · 4 years ago

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MO DAO ZU SHI REREAD:Thoughts™️....and Stuff

Chapter 28

I will refer to nmj’s corpse as either nmj or as “our dear friend”

Also wwx is funny

“Lan WangJi’s brows shifted slightly, as if he was actually worried that Wei WuXian would strip right here and right now.” Yeah he doesnt want anyone to see your body except him so he was worried

Im tellin you they should wear makeup

Nhs tossed the hand at the juniors, while jgy/Su She must have been the ones to hide the legs

“The people who hid the legs knew about the QingheNie Sect’s Saber Hall tradition, while the people who let the left hand loose knew about the GusuLan Sect’s plans.” See i was right

You aint gonna catch lwj off guard, wwx, “Think for yourself.”

“Wei WuXian tugged at his sword tassel and dragged him in the opposite direction” shut up thats so cute

“Although these words were a bit rude, tenderness pooled within Lan WangJi’s eyes. Again, he spoke in a low voice, ‘Mnn.’” 🥺🥺🥺

He’s still holding onto his sword tassel im 😭

“‘Especially the one next to you. Among average folks, I’ve never seen such a… such a…’ Wei WuXian grinned, ‘Such a pretty person.’”

Lwj does not hesitate to pay for wwx

Ooooo now it makes sense they were frightened to death because Xue Yang killed them using the stygian tiger seal huh

Chapter 29

Is 3,600 an important number? Like why this number specifically?

“The way he looked over, you’d think that I was putting my arm around his wife” well, his husband, but yea same feeling

“Wei WuXian, ‘My surname…’ Suddenly remembering the “Wei WuQian” that the waiter mentioned, the corners of his lips twitched. He smoothly transitioned, ‘Is Lan.’” Wwx can predict the future, he just doesnt know it. He’s said things about marrying into the lan clan at least twice now

“Under the bright-red banners of the liquor shop, it seemed as if, for one second, Lan WangJi’s figure stumbled ever so slightly.” ;-;

“It was as if he returned to those days, before he died, of being even worse than a sewer rat, despised by everyone. He played a role in everything; he was to be blamed for everything.” WuXian...

Fun fact: xxc was 17 when he left the mountain

“he wanted to build a new sect with a close friend that didn’t value a bloodline.” Im angry that he didnt get to do this

Chapter 30

(under the cut because i thought it was a little long)

Xxc was the one to find xy and bring him to Koi Tower

“known far and wide for his radiant smile, inhumane means, and merciless personality” wow yanno what that sounds like what people thought wwx was like except xy was actually like that

Once again, FUCK Jin GuangShan

“After using it for the second time, he finally decided to destroy one half of the seal.” Seeing the damage caused and the lives that were lost because of the seal, he decided to destroy it so that no one would be able to do something like that again

Okay i uuuummmm dont like xy very much but he is intelligent ill give him that

The idea of testing the extent of the seals powers on a live clan of people sickens me

Nmj was persistent and intimidating enough to convince the Jin Sect into agreeing to punish xy

Nmj had a strong sense of justice, also he planned on killing xy right there on the spot, which i think he Should have done

“Even when Nie MingJue’s saber was pressed against his neck, he still had a grin on his face.“ id be horny if i was in his position, but thats not the point

“Daozhang, you wouldn’t forget me, would you? Let’s wait and see.” Kill this with fire, thanks

When nmj heard about LanlingJin changing xy’s sentence, he got mad and pressed them about the issue

“All of the other sects watched them from the sidelines, but, shortly afterward, Nie MingJue passed away from Qi deviation.” Coincidence? No absolutely not. I think jgy tried to kill him faster after this so that he could personally get his hands on the Stygian Tiger Seal

“He cultivated at a faster speed than any other past leader of the Nie Sect, and also died sooner than any of them.”

Wwx says something vicious about what he would’ve done to xy

“Xiao XingChen the bright moon and gentle breeze; Song ZiChen the distant snow and cold frost.” Listen...these titles are beautiful

Imagine if lwj and wwx got titles like that....what would they be???

“Why did he not go and give Xue Yang what he deserved?Just as he was about to ask, he remembered the scars that the discipline whip gave him.” .... ouchie

“For some reason, in his heart, Wei WuXian cared quite a lot about those scars.” Ouchie again

Haha you ever dig out both of your eyes for your “friend” haha justfriendsthings

Side note: why did he dig out BoTH of his eyes? They could of been twining with cute eyepatches (xxc with a black one and sl with a white one....)

Jgy quickly took over the LanlingJin Sect soon after this all went down and “took care of” xy to fix the sect’s reputation

The grave robber is Su She

“Wei WuXian hurriedly clapped twice, got down on one knee, and slammed his fist on the ground.The strength of his punch passed through layers of dirt, reached the depths of the soil, and penetrated the thick coffin lids, provoking the corpses trapped inside.” Wwx is a badass, in case anyone forgot. Also, that was incredibly sexy of him

God hes so cool...

Su She is fuckin stupid

Jajfnc wwx laughing at him in the middle of battle

“To him, Lan WangJi wasn’t the kind of person who’d hide or run away from the truth.””In Wei WuXian’s opinion, if someone asked Lan WangJi to lie, he’d rather silence himself and not talk at all.”

Chang Ping died via lingshi and his eyes were cut out

Im screaming after lwj said you shouldnt judge without knowing the full picture, wwx thinks about how he admires lwjs morals and attitude a lot

OoOooOo my gosh the first drunk scene here we go!

God lwj will do anything to make wwx happy....

stooooop this is giving me feelings already

He tucks him in...

Wen Ning Wen Ning Wen Ning

Not gonna get over wwx describing wn as delicate im just gonna cry about it forever

Poor boy....

“It seemed as if he was trying hard to endure the pain.How strange was it that, although he had died, he could still experience feelings of ‘pain’.”

Wen Ning heals

God it would have been funny if he smacked into his chest like a cartoon

#mine #Phoenix rereads MDZS #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #wn #wwx #lwj #nmj #xxc #my MEMORY it SUCKS

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humankoalaa · 5 years ago

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BLACK LIGHTNING 3X15

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

okay...here we go.

• gravedigger ... so your telling me you murder folks and feel the right and honorable thing to do is bury them after? ... thats like giving someone a hotdog choking them with it then helping them unfuck their throat.

• everybody: “get on the ground now” ... khalil: “but how do i continue getting beat up if i get on the ground” ... everybody: “exactly.”

• please let this mean he’ll be able to control when he becomes painkiller.

• “is this supposed to be a pep talk?” 🤣🤣 same erica. same. like jeff damn near said everything but you’re gonna die.

• my mother looking at my other mother worried to bits. nissa iss gon be alright.

• JEFF.... LIGHTNING IS STRONGER THAN YOUUUUUUU she just reckless BUT SHE IS STRONGER THAN YOU. got my auntie out here with all the nobody puts baby in the corner vibes.

• brandon... im sick of you. aggravating ass. so we put our hair in a bun and all a sudden we don’t know how to act? ok mr. marshall.

• “we’re screwed” 🤣 TC i felt that in my soul.

• jenn looking at jeff like rosa parks did not sit her ass down for you to be forcing me in the back like this. 😩 look im just doing the lords work. ok?! i can’t make this shit up.

• go head gambi. my thoughts exactly.

• first of all mr. only enhancements i got is hypertension and type two diabetes.... you ain’t gon do shit.

• 🤣🤣 yaaasss my mother said yeeeee ain wants none of this schmoke 💅🏾

• lady eve.... did she set up gambi orrrrr...

• anissa just watching grace sip this tea all heart eyes 😭

• “watch the candles” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

• now that anissa said grace is evolving i can’t help but see grace as a pokémon. im upset.

• ... lynn... come on mawmaw. why you always showing up with bad news. definition of why we should just shoot the messenger. OFF with her head! im tired.

• 😭😭😭😭 my parents! we love love. ugh. this is what i call redemption. cause their first pillowtalk was a tragedy.

• thundergrace hands down the baddest CW couple. i said what i said.

•WAYMENT NO SHE DIDNT 😦🤭

• she did. SHE DID. she asked my mother to marry her right in front of my caprisun 😭😭

• TC... come on big fella 😂 a corpse has more game than you 🤦🏾‍♀️

• “now you can die happy” 🤣 erica kills me.

• “TC that girl dont want you” 🤣🤣 this has to be one of the best delivered lines from china.

• OKAAAYYY PAINKILLER WE GEETTTT it.

• “is tobias my cousin?” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

• dawww this is cute. grace finally meeting her mother in law cooking for the fam ugh this show ❤️

• i love how everyone looks around the loft the same way when they first come inside. like yes she pays for it with drug money. we don’t talk about that.

• “you mean like the last supper?” 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤦🏾‍♀️

• wardrobe... why y’all got my mother in a straight jacket tho. like is that a hooded corset? like half hoodie half corset? so many questions. i have so many.

• 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 the faces after they said they’re getting married i could choke

• jenn tawm bout finally 🤣 as the captain of this ship i wouldnt expect anything less. like your fave captain could never!

• that has to be a record 🤣🤣 they got engaged 14 minutes ago. FOURTEEN. without commercials 7 minutes ok?! SEVEN. like they don’t even need a uhaul cause grace pretty much lives at anissas. i can see it now all the twitter folk “but they haven’t even been together that long” “their relationship is toxic” “but grace abused anissa” “anissa has a tracking device on grace” listen to me... SAY LESS. k? K. they been married since season 1 episode 3 btw.

• ugh this scene. i love how last episode anissa said grace is the one right. now this scene where she’s telling lynn she’s not doing it just cause Is perfect. it fits anissas character traits so much and i love that whoever wrote this episode played into just that. her recklessness with a cause essentially. so i love that she acknowledged it is sudden but regardless of the circumstances she would still marry grace.

• jenn, jeff, and grace. a trio i stan.

• WAYMENT... y’all see TC and erica 👀

• brandon... 😂😂🤦🏾‍♀️ man let that lady go.

• awh lawd gravedigger done knows allllll their powers and shit 🤦🏾‍♀️

• TC ... that’s the loudest most indiscreet shit ive ever seen 😂😂😂😂 like say it any louder and gravedigger will hear you. smh.

• ooooooo here for alllll the wedding drip. these pantsuits 🔥 also i dare them to look and be any gayer.

• awh lawd jenn 🤦🏾‍♀️ how many times are we gonna do this 😩 like come on auntie.

ooooooo next weeks bout to be lit!

#black lighting spoilers #thundergrace #anissa x grace #jennifer pierce #black lightning

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remi-demi94 · 5 years ago

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2, 8, and 28 for the apprentice questions?

Ooooooo I like those questions lol!! Well... here we go!

#2. How does your apprentice feel when they are called a witch? (Offended? Shrugs it off? Likes it?)

Ahh... yikes... Sooo.... Remy usually doesn't like altercations, but you can bet one will be started if you call her a witch. If it's some random stranger and they come outta nowhere and call her a witch a derogatory type of way, she's gonna do this... hands down:

Honestly if Nadia wasn't there when Valerius called her one when they first met, Valerius would've caught Remy's hands...

On the other hand, if it's someone she knows (any of the main six is included) and they're just teasing her or she's in the mood to humor them, she's gonna freak 'em out a little bit with some good old smirking and eyes-glowing, maybe even a little magic trick to startle them some more lmaooooo:

#8. Describe their daily routine (wake up, chores, tasks, visiting who, etc)

Hmmm.... Remy's daily routine? I feel like that depends on who she's with again lol but I'll break that down.When she's by herself, she's pretty independent. She wakes up, does a nice stretch, washes up and gets dressed, gets a bite a eat (preferably something sweet for breakfast), and opens the shop. If she keeps the shop closed for a day, then she's gonna go around Vesuvia and visit her friends (main six and many other folks in Vesuvia). Sometimes she'll just bring them gifts just because she wants to. That usually happens if she's out in the marketplace and sees something that just reminds her of them. She's not the type to expect anything in return either. Sometimes she'll bake cupcakes for her everybody too.

If she's with Asra, she's probably going to go with their flow for everything. Snooze in bed a little longer? Yes please! Take a trip to bread shop? Of course!! Bond with Asra's parents? She'd love to! Visit Muriel? Absolutely!! Go on magical adventures with Asra? You better believe it! With Asra, Remy's motto is, "I go where you go".

If she's with Nadia, she's absolutely going to follow her lead, especially since her wifey is THE COUNTESS. I feel like Remy would have to go through a little bit a "princess diaries tutoring" to know how to properly present herself as Countess Nadia's wife. So I think her days would start by pretty much observing and shadowing Nadia lol. Nadia would find this super cute of course because Remy's gonna give it her all. She wants to appear elegant and royal like the countess herself, so she's not going to disappoint. You'd probably catch her practicing walks, greetings, and gestures in the mirror too. She'll also probably go around Vesuvia and help her fellow citizens secretly because she loves doing it. "Remy, darling, you've done an amazing job learning about our etiquette here in the palace, now it's time for your reward", hums Nadia right into Remy's ear.

If she's with Julian, she's gonna have a lot on her plate everyday but she'd love every minute of it. Since he moved in next door to her magic shop, she's probably gonna pop in every few hours or so to see if he needs any help and to make sure he's not overworking himself. She's always gonna bring him lunch, and/or dinner if he has to work late. Sometimes she'll just work in his clinic with him if her magic shop is slow for business that day. Besides, all of her customers know that she's with Julian lol, so if she's not at her shop, she's probably at Julian's clinic. Soooo we all know that Julian sometimes doesn't take good care of himself, right? Well guess what, Remy's gonna be there to help him with that. "Julian... you've been treating patients all day nonstop, c'mere, you need a break, boo".

If she's with Muriel, hmm.... his route isn't finished yet but from what learned so far, he raises chickens, wittels, goes fishing, makes flower crowns, and has horrible nightmares. I feel like Remy and Asra would take turns running the shop, but she'd really want to spend time with Muriel lol. If she doesn't have to run to shop, she'd love to stay with Muriel and join him in his daily routine. She loves animals so you can bet she's willing to help him with the chickens. Look that fishing scene in his new book got Remy shook so she's definitely gonna wanna go that again with him lmaooooo. And Muriel clearly needs some love, so she's definitely gonna have a designated cuddle time with him because he deserves it. If he has nightmares, she's absolutely going to help soothe him because she has nightmares too.

If she's with Portia, I feel like their relationship will be very domesticated. Portia's a busy bee, always working hard, so Remy is gonna be her little cheerleader lol. She's gonna want them to eat breakfast together before they both go to work, even if it's something quick like a pastry. They're gonna go their separate ways to work, but you better believe that their gonna meet back up again for lunch or just to check in on each other. It's a big ole party after work is over with though. Hugs and kisses galore. "How was your day Portia? I heard you had to teach a lesson to few new recruits in the kitchen!". Just picture these two curvy girls cuddling and relaxing with each other after a hard days work, that's Remy and Portia for you lol. I'm sure they'd do a ton of visits to Julian and Mazelinka too because why not.

If she's with Lucio, hmm.... his route is still pretty early to say too because he wouldn't be the Count anymore... right? Like idk what they'd be doing if he's not the Count... if he ends up staying as the count, I'm assuming it'll be very similar to Nadia's daily routine. I guess if he doesn't become the count... Maybe he'd just be apart of Nadia's court or something... idk but I feel like Remy would still be working at the magic shop, being there by his side whenever she can. I think he'd have a lot of pain and guilt at the end of his route, so Remy would definitely be there to comfort him through that.

#28. Describe what their magical realm gateway would be like?

Remy's magical realm gateway would be similar to Asra's in the sense of it favoring water, but it'll be more like a underwater cove oasis. I think there's some real life ones in Brazil or some spots in South America,right? The roof/ceiling of the cave/cove would be littered with the brightest stars of the night. Butterflies of all shapes and sizes fluttering all over the place. There's a mini waterfall in her cove if you go deep enough, and the water glows wherever you move in it. The whole place actually looks like you're under a black light at night, but during the day it looks more like a never ending sunrise. Some of the strangest and most beautiful plants and flowers wildly grow in some spots of her realm too. ... I should really draw it someday lol.

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chubbyooo · 5 years ago

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Blurred Lines Chapter 14 - A Trail

hey hey more fic because writing mood took me and i must capitalise

Kavaraa learns of Kormels research and considers her options

Kavaraa opened the tea cupboard “what kind of tea do you want?”. The cupboard was full of about 50 jars with small labels on each arranged alphabetically.

“uh Chamomile if you have it” Kormel sat down at the table and began getting out notes and what looked like artifacts. “If i have it” Kavaraa chuckled to herself as she reached into the Chamomile jar, there were only a few teabags left in the bottom of the jar; everyone picks Chamomile Kavaraa thought to herself wistfully, that or normal boring tea. Most the other jars were full or almost full except vanilla walnut, that was Kavaraas favourite, she picked out one of those for herself. She began boiling the water and turned to Kormel “so where are you from Kormel?” she said with a smile leaning on the counter

“wha- uh i thought you wanted to hear about my research” Kormel looked flustered to be asked about himself, Kavaraa recalled how Jedi felt about holding on to their time before the order, she didn’t exactly agree with them on the matter.

“well yeah but i also would like to know about you, you seem very conscious of the jedis need to learn and I like that” Kormel went red almost immediately

“oh- uh well um thanks I-I am from Ta-Tatooine my uh da-dad worked at one of th-the cantinas and i helped around the house” Kavaraa had guessed a desert planet, the hair and dusty look were a big clue “ I well uh it wasn’t the best cantina and my uh dad got” he paused for a long time “sh-shot I th-think a deal went bad or something i dunno the details” oh no that’s awful Kavaraa moved round the table and put her hand on his shoulder

“i’m so sorry that happened to you i can’t imagine what that must’ve been like” Kavaraa was doing her best to sympathise but having never known her parents she was finding it difficult

“it’s um it’s uh ok it was a lo-long time ago after that I was on the street until a Jedi sensed my gifts, yo-you know the usual story” Kavaraa remembered when Master Yuon visited House Thul all those years ago, it had changed her entire world she was sure luckly she had taken Rheelis shift.

As she drifted off into nostalgia she heard the chirping of an Orobird meaning her kettle had finished boiling. This broke her out of her trance, she headed over to the kettle and poured out two cups of tea. She sat down opposite Kormel “so, tell me about this research” she sipped her tea letting the familiar taste of vanilla hit her tastebuds.

“ok so after i finished with your teachings I looked for similar teachings and found word of some small amount of information in a holocron about a very old Jedi master who disappeared suddenly years and years ago” Kavaraa began furiously scribbling down notes as Kormel talked, she was completely entranced with what he was saying “they had a brief mention of the idea of not cutting yourself entirely from you emotions, i thought it wasn’t exactly the same but good enough” Kormel was speaking quite quickly which surprised Kavaraa given his previous tone, this made it difficult for her to keep up “so i looked into this Jedis history and biography he seemed fascinated with the idea of exploration of unknown planets and places, i was worried i was getting off track but i noticed there was a planet commonly referenced throughout his work” Kavaraas eyes flashed with realisation

“that was the planet we were on with the temple” this was so exciting a trail of maybe ancient knowledge or maybe a new planet discovery with new species, maybe new force techniques.

“exactly so i looked up the planet and found among many weequay folk tales one that spoke of a temple that would show the way to knowledge and enlightenment” ooooooo this was amazing this was exactly what Kavaraa was trying to find, knowledge and enlightenment

“so you think the jedi left this path for others to find?” Kavaraa was trying to contain the excitement in her voice and act like a responsible jedi, it was hard.

“i’m not sure if they wanted it to be found easily they covered their tracks pretty well but whenI was in the temple i found this trapped inside the vault” he gestured to a weird puzzle box he had gotten out earlier. Kormel suddenly retreated back slumping and avoiding eye contact “thats uh wh-where I used th-the dark side to uh get it out” aw Kormel, Kavaraa felt so bad for him she had definitely been in that sort of difficult situation before, the call of the dark side is hard to resist.

She put her hand on his shoulder “hey don’t worry about it puzzles can be real frustrating sometimes” he looked down further

“I-I just I thought i nearly had it I was so close and then it all reset on me ugh” he looked up as he finished “sorry I shouldn’t get so frustrated” Kormel didn’t seem like the most confident person Kavaraa helped he could help him stop doubting himself

“hey it’s ok to be a little mad remember what i said” he looked up with a weak smile

“yeah i guess” he sipped his tea quietly for a second

“hey so what’s the puzzle box do” Kavaraa was itching to know

“i don’t know i couldn’t open it and you interrupted me while i was still trying” he held it curiously “you’re like a super strong jedi maybe you can open it” Kavaraa went a little bit turquoise

“i’m uh not super strong but i’ll try” Kavaraa took the puzzle box and placed it in front of her, she closed her eyes and focused solely on the wooden puzzle box sitting in front of her. She let her excitement and guilt leave her mind only focussing on the grooves of the puzzle boxes mechanism, once she had a clear understanding of the boxes intricacies she began to move the pieces and then suddenly she heard a click. She opened her eyes quickly “what happened is it open” she said looking around, Kormel was looking at her wide eyed did she do something weird?

“y-y-yo-you opened it in like two seconds” what that’s crazy she thought but then she glanced at her tea, steam was still rising from the top wow she really did do it in two seconds, not too shabby.

“wow uh cool lets see whats inside” she said with a smile trying to hide her surprise, gotta look like a professional together Jedi. She looked to see what was inside and saw a small hologram device and as she picked it up it shot to life illuminting the room with a starmap of wildspace and futher. Kavaraa let out an excited squeal “it’s a map, it’s a map, it’s a map!!!” Kormel seemed equally as excited his hands and arms were shaking in an erratic fashion.

“look, look , LOOK there that planet is illuminated” Kormel was pointing to a planet on the edge of the map at the edge of what looked like the unknown regions

“i’ll check to see it’s info online” Kavaraa quickly brought up a holopad and compared the starmap to the galactic map “Iiiiiiiii don’t see this on this map” as far as she could tell there was no record of this planet on file, even better a secret planet this trail was so fascinating. “we gotta go there right now”

“right now I-I thought you were sending me back to the temple?” Kormel said surprised

“what no i need you here you have all the knowledge also i need to help you train” Kavaraa said this without really thinking

“wait d-d-d-do-does that mean you are accepting me as a padawan?” Kormel looked like he was about to explode with glee, Kavaraa was only just comprehending what she said and realised she had to give him an answer, she didn’t want to upset him or look like she just blurted something out

“uhhhhhh yeah sure you can be my new padawan but there’s no time to lose we have to go there now” Kavaraa was practically jumping with excitement

“go where now” a voice said from behind them, Kavaraa stumbled around to see Theron standing in the doorway with a tired look on his face

“uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” this was going to be difficult to explain...

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thcyer · 6 years ago

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first things first im the worsT and slow as hECK so,,, have fun with that! my name’s ashley ( I also go by trash or trashley yknow whatever you want! *) and I’m suPER PUMPED to be here like, I screamed a little okay! I can’t wait to meet all of you cuties<3333. I’m probably gonna include tht lil survey about me below after I talk about my son!

let’s meet this lil baguette!

the tourist

name: samuel thayer. age: twenty-two major: art history and philosophy gender: cismale clubs: campus media — photographer living arrangements: two bedroom apt. 003

hailing all the way from the beautiful though sometimes crummy streets of france is samuel thayer! he was born on march 26th in a suburban area just north of paris. a natural aries. he was quite rambunctious as a child. as the sole offspring of two wealthy socialites there wasn’t much else to do, but stir up a little trouble while he still could get away with it.

as he got older his parents began dismissing his childlike nature in exchange for the manners that all gentlemen should uphold. he’s growing up around luxury after all. and that’s most of what he was surrounded by for the longest time. at first it was fun, he loves his parents and socializing is one of his strengths. however, he often felt a longing for something else. the silver spoon and costly champagne, among other luxuries just felt all too empty. yet, it became almost all he knew up until he turned 15.

his parents attempted to soothe his wanderlust with lavish trips to the tropics, but all young sam wanted was experience. he yearned for art, knowledge, and adventure outside of what he was used. one summer he decided to take a trip by himself, no where near the tropics and far far away from home. he’s hardly ever looked back since.

having vouched to travel as often as possible, sam also had to take his studies into consideration so he returned home only to finish his high school career. when classes weren’t in session he couldn’t have been caught dead in france. no his life is now aimed at the unknown. He longs to explore, view, and ultimately create art of his own. with a spot on his long long list of locations and a highly recommended university, ashmont seemed to be the best place for his final year in college.

personality wise he is as sophisticated as he is playful! a minor mess of contradictions. he has this slightly childlike quality to him and he loves just living life to the fullest, but he can’t always bury how he was raised. but that being said uhhh don’t let him fool you! he can also be a little shit troublemaker when he wants to! he’s got a lil charm to him and quick wit. he just likes to have fun! he’s an aries he can’t help it

and that’s all folks! 👀

about MOI

alias: ashley! ( or see above*)

where you’re from: chicagoooo ( ct )

age: 21

skeleton: the tourist

a lil about you: eeeee! okay still super mcfRICKIN EXCITED! uhh I’m about to graduate from college like next week?? riP, I’m a theatre arts major with a concentration in performance and I didn’t pick up a minor bc ahahahahahahhahahahhhaha! I love game of thrones 👀 (let’s chat)

what’re you most excited for? literally everything like OOOOOOO do I LOVE plot driven things and like secrets and ic drama and angst like give it all to me!

which skeleton you think killed daisey? i wanna say the presumptuous just bc like why not??? yknow family is complicated idk honestly it’s gonna be so much fun.

what’s your fave spooky/mystery movie? I LOVE scary movies, but to name a fav oooo idk!! I mean like recently I’ve been watching the movies in the conjuring universe and it’s been interesting seeing how the story lines all add up.

fave vine lmao: this is so roode how can I just pick a fav?! i absolutely love this one idk why

#woOOooO #yknow when you have to edit a lil bit to be snekky #let me love all of you now pls

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mclvma · 6 years ago

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𝘼𝘾𝘾𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙈𝙕 𝘿𝘼𝙏𝘼𝘽𝘼𝙎𝙀… maluma is a twenty five year old singer. in past interviews he/him has been described as +bewitching &. +authentic, as well as -inconsistent &. -devious. their insta is full of shots of vacations, music, thirst traps. it’s always exciting to see what the cismale is up to next ! could his secret be our next headline ?

hey hEY WHEYEH WYEHY ! ! hello mtv & welcome to another edition of mtv cribs: sam edition ! today we have a good one folks ... trust me ! the one, the only, maluma ! who was definitely another spontaneous decision from yours truly, but can you blame me ? he’s my spanish papi n’ realllllllllllly delicious to look at so :) let’s get this party started :)

headcanons:

cringes at the thought of commitment. looks like a cupcake, actually isn’t a cupcake. prefers to be called juan luis ( + / - the luis, but it depends who ) switches between more reserved during interviews, and a cocky little shit during music videos. practically lives at the strip club. still hasn’t properly settled down anywhere since he’s constantly on the go. has absolutely zero problems with polygamy. vegas is his go-to place to have the best time. very family oriented. always envisions his favorite people in the crowd. relies on his family to keep him grounded. every tattoo he has possesses a very valuable meaning behind it. obsessed with coffee. most inspiration for his music comes from daily scenarios. trains, planes, buses are all prime spots for songwriting. loves talking about himself. has plans to start a little league soccer team. scared of being too vulnerable. fantasizes and romanticizes almost everything. definitely still lives by his pretty boy / dirty boy persona, which means super innocent and the furthest from it. totally aware of the things he does to women, and men alike. extremely humble, but that’s usually overshadowed by his massive ego. has some sweet tendencies ( somewhere deep, deeeeeep down inside ), and equally fucked up ones to match. has zero problem being a sugar daddy. knows that he’s a charmer, and uses that to his advantage. would use someone to get to where he wants to be. strong selfie game. would hop at any and all opportunity to play batman. works extremely well under pressure.

plots:

[ one ] - hi i’m getting all the platonic ones out of the way now ! but this is one is supppppper cute ! he needs someone to keep him fluffy & grounded, n also try to take him out of his player wayssss ... like srsly ! [ two ] - rmbr what i said about getting the platonic ones out of the way ? we’re hopping straight into love here people, i’M SORRY ! buuuuut this could be a past thing, like ‘ i love u & u won’t let me into ur pants dude :( what the hell :( ’ ... either way, i’m cryING [ three ] - o pretty please throw ur male muses at him for this one ... jesus christ, can i just say that shit like this never, evER HAPPENS TO ME N I’M STRESSED ? anywaaaaay :) [ four ] - skskkss ! listen ! i’m a suCKER for roommate plots & whoever chooses this one, good luck bc there’s going to be shorties ... n dudes ... n really the whOLE nine in his bed tbh [ five ] - * just a forewarning, this one is kinda ( ? ) mildly ( ? ) nSFW ! * think about it ! besties turned into literallllll best friends after a nice highway drive, brings tEARS to my eyes ! [ six ] - i’m also head over heels for baBY plots cause they rip my heart out :/ but this one is actually cute n then it causes me hella pain :/ my favORITE :/ i’m in shambles :/ [ seven ] - fuck me up fam ! i rlly love this one bc angsty & tears, n jealousy and evERYTHING that i’m into rn (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・hi if ur reading this tHEN CHOOSE THIS ONE PLS :~) [ eight ] - OOOOOOO WAIT ! u know what ! this one is cute ! idk why he would be meeting the parents, but maybe they’re in town ? tea ! he’ll chaRM them over .. n then be nasTY ;) [ nine ] - i really, hoNESTLY, TRULY, don’t care which is one of these i get caUSE they’re all so cute n bring me to tears ! agAIN ! srsly guys .... i’m exploding ovER HERE by envisioning them all i- ???? i’m not good for my health ???? [ ten ] - just kidding, drop evERYTHING ( don’t even read these other plots ) n choose this one ! i’m ???? not okay ??? right now ???? can u just imagine the feelings in thIS ONE I- ??? bYE

+ also wanted : [ best friends, exes, exes to lovers, friends to lovers, lovers to enemies, acquaintances. platonic friendships. friends with benefits, slow-burn relationship, forbidden love, secret relationship. ]

keep in mind that these plots are never set in stone, we can always add / remove the things that yoouuuuuu don’t like ! n liking this post gives me full permission to invade your ims & i won’t take no for an answer so :))))))))) be ready :)))))))

#shq;plotcall #HEHHEHE WELL WELL WELL #LOOK WHAT HE HAVE HERE ;)#PROCEED W CAUTION .... HE'S D*NGEROUS

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spacebookettes · 4 years ago

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A Dark Town Undone

The Dark Town was to be in a movie. Yes another post apocalyptic.

Extras all dressed up in whatever they could find as Victorian ghosts. English pale skins and delicate bodies. The usual characters of Dark Town sent to the side streets and light towns for holidays.

The pale skins were dotted with silver glitter, an ethereal picture they made; fake dust in their hair and on the top of the hats. Some brought their large ethereal dogs.

The neon was turned off, an occasional spasm.

The main characters were given torches, some things were thrown over and there were lots of helpings of apocalyptic trash.

Beams of light stretched out along the abandonment and up toward the airy black ceilings occasionally disappearing into the great dark caverns. A zap of blue or pink would attract the direction of the torches. They were hoping someone had left food. Torches invaded old food trollies and cyber restaurant windows and then storage. The occasional glint of hidden silver glitter.

The usual horror movie conversation about something not feeling right and we should get out of here.

No food.

Of course an underground town with no lights on can be made to look like an ever expanding lost city.

Increasing tense voices as the protagonists venture deeper into abandoned food carts and dusty cyber restaurants. Their thoughts echo around the cavernous dark spaces, getting more desperate.

The last of the water shared and finished.

Tiny spots of veiled glitter seem to be getting closer as the torches dart around the blackness. Conversations from one who swears they’ve seen a face out there.

SNAP something breaks and echoes around them, “it sounded wooden"

Back to back with furious torches they continue deeper into the dusty no food.

An ancient brick drops next to them, all the torches clash to inspect it and then inspect the high concrete places.

“LETS GO BACK” a little piece of faded silk floats down onto their head, SCREAMING as they run backtracking their journey. SNAP SNAP SNAP

Only their breathlessness sounded. The lost cars of the abandoned parking spaces had flashes of reflective eyes on the back seats. The breathing stops as the main characters lower their torches, not able to stand the animalistic eyes any longer. The sound of a car door opening. Running up the sloping roadway. Such a long roadway, a giant wooden cart wheel on one side, dustily decomposing. Up and onto a northern English moor of heathers and slowly retaking trees. “NO, WE HAVE TO GO BACK... THIS ISN’T RIGHT.” Turning to little flecks of glitter emerging out of the dark underpass, pale faces, ghostly hair and peppered vintage hats. Tools of the modern world, taken from the dark town. Aluminium piping, a flash of shiny new hammer, a shopping trolley, with one wooden cart wheel, full of dangerous reflections.

The end

By Peter Stringer

Clowns

An old car racing down a forest road. No honking. A covered painting vibrates in the back. The art dealer had found the Worst painting in existence. He was bringing it to the castle, a castle sometimes lost in the mist, that local people swear disappears sometimes. In fact the locals will not go up to Gray Stone Castle, ever. The surrounding villages have never had any contact with anyone at the castle, no local businesses used by the inhabitants; in the whole history of the region not one interaction... though the castle has always been there in perfect condition, a little smoke with the faintest tinge of red escaping from a little gargoyle chimney on one grey stone corner... ALWAYS a little plume of smoke for hundreds of years, as far back as anyone’s ancestor’s could remember.

Winding up into the mountainous region the car stops at the closest village. An older lady sat with a plinking smartphone looks up and at the car “I’m looking for Gray Stone Castle.” ‘it might not be there today' said the lady. The man laughed. The lady got up, went indoors and locked her door. “huh... mountain folk.” The clouds parted higher up in the rock, a small turret could be seen in the sunshine. Distant thunder cracked from darkened clouds somewhere behind the castle.

The car reached the courtyard outcropping of the castle entrance. A robot made with skin coloured metal, opened the door. ‘you drive yourself' asked the robot “yes when I find a place where it’s still legal, I always find a car and take it for a spin... and no tracking, makes things easier.” The robot took the painting inside. ‘smaller than I expected.’ said the robot about the painting. ‘the mistress will be pleased though... when she gets back.’ It started raining with a misty grey chill. In the distant valley below there was still sunshine.

Sat by a small fire in a vast grey fireplace “when will your mistress be back" the robot flinched slightly at the word your. ‘this evening or tomorrow morning I believe.' “I might have to wait?! That wasn’t part of the job!”

The man had a look around the castle ; hundreds of grey stone rooms with slit windows that only had views of mist and rumbles of thunder. A few locked doors but all in all a cold drab uneventful place. IKEA furniture.

The man sat by the small fire. A little D2 robot brought him food, it too was made of skin coloured metal. Canned meat, pickled beetroot slices and mayo sandwiches with a glass of milk that had a hint of red tinged that the man didn’t notice. The first robot stood over the man while he ate. ‘the mistress likes to hunt for mountain pigs in the mist.’ “mountain pigs?? How does she dispatch them?” ‘with her bare hands.’ Answered the robot. The man choked a little and drank some ‘milk'. The castle entrance slowly opened and a small grey haired kindly older lady walked in from the rain. The man glanced at her hands, they were clean. The robot introduced them. They walked into her study. Inside was the painting on an easel, still covered. The mistress sneaked a peak of one corner and giggled in anticipation. She looked at the man. ‘you see the paintings always reflect the man' said the mistress. The man didn’t understand. “I thought you wanted the worst painting I could find?” he asked. ‘yes but your worst.’ Said the mistress. The robot snatched the cover off of the painting. The mistress turned around to take in all of it. The spotlight revealed a mixture of fluorescent paints and pale skin coloured acrylics. A face of a smiling gorgon; scaly skin with fluorescent highlights, BLACK irises, stale breathy strands escaping from it’s mouth of fluorescent pink teeth. ‘OOOOOOO WHAT A GLORIOUS PIGGY.’ The robot said. The man wanted to run. He slowly got up and walked calmly to the castle entrance. He went outside. Outside was a half ring of skin coloured robots blocking the man’s route to the car. It started raining... the skin colours started dripping to reveal patches of stainless steel and shiny red painted manic smiles, demonic red painted noses and arched white painted eyebrows. The paint dripped further revealing stainless steel robot hands. The man stared transfixed, his face expressionless. A mechanical shunting noise came from around a castle corner. A 10 foot heavy lifter contraption walked slowly around and into view: it had a giant red nose on the front and white arched eyebrows. A mega phone speaker inside it announced with an older ladies voice. ‘GET AWAY FROM HERE YOU LIL BITCH.’ The man looked down at his hands... they were glowing with a hint of neon red light. He found his feet and ran, the mist parted to let him through and it stayed parted to let the clowns through.

The end

By Peter Stringer

Geese

Granny Bluddyfords fed her geese. They looked bored she felt. ‘I’ll let them forage in the fields.’ Granny Bluddyfords organic farm was one of the last to convert. Solar powered contraptions now did all the work. Small fidget robots humanely kept the crops free of pests.

Granny Cripplings fed her geese. They looked a bit bored. She let them into her fields for a forage. Granny Cripplings was also one of the last to convert. She too had solar powered pest control.

Granny Bluntscar fed her geese. They also looked a bit bored. She too let them into her fields to forage. Granny Bluntscar was one of the first to convert to organic farming with robots.

Millions of geese covered the fields of Cendiary Bay. The shining white of billions of feathers looked down on the small coastal port of mirrored cube buildings; Every surface of solar panel.

The gaggle of grannies all liked to keep their geese nice and aggressive. The little fidget robots fashioned the geese’s tiny teeth razor sharp, in their sleep.

Two old lads burped and cajoled their way down a lane that runs between Granny Bluntscar ‘s farm and Granny Bluddyford's farm. They hadn’t noticed the mass of white feathers. They were drunk. Millions of goose eyes followed the two older men. One of the older men climbed a wooden stile to get into and cut across a field, he reached the top, looked out at the white masses as far as a drunken eye could see. The second old lad climbed up after him. They both stood there looking at the millions of goose eyes staring back at them. The bottle of red wine in the second mans hand slipped, the first man caught it. Not a drop spilled. They laughed and said “the geese are out again;” climbed down and wandered through the throng of white, on their way.

A rat walked along the top of a dry stone wall that ran between Granny Cripplings and Granny Bluddyfords farm’s. It was terrified. It didn’t want to know what millions of razor sharp goose teeth would do to one scrawny rat body. A rock in the wall dislodged as the rat passed. It crashed down onto the ground scaring some geese. The rat carried on along the wall. A florescent butterfly landed on the fallen rock. The minute vibration this caused cascaded through the rock and deep underground and with an unlikely twist of fate started a rare, for these lands, shockwave. An earthquake rumbled around Cendiary Bay smashing solar panels. Shards of solar panels screeched all over the streets of the modern port town. There was much blood. Granny Bluddyfords fell to the ground at the sight of a blood stained Cendiary Bay. A heart attack.

The dry stone walls, that bordered and divided all the fields, had all shook down into neat little lines: no longer goose barriers. The geese waddled onto the fields with crops and tucked in to crisp green fresh things. At the sight of this, Granny Cripplings had a heart attack and dropped to the floor. The geese gorged themselves on juicy sweet delights all afternoon.

Granny Bluntscar sat drinking tea sweetened with a little evaporated milk. A tear from one eye for her sister, a tear from her other eye for her other sister. A manic smile gleefully looked out onto her new super farm and her newly tripled evil goose stocks.

The end

By Peter Stringer

#creative story #art #scifi #fantasy #horror #movies #chilling #ghost story #subterranean #book #post apocalyptic #horror stories

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