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I play characters that are pretty; I play characters that are sort of intimidating and confident, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m that.

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overtureofchaos‌:

Atticus had seen a lot in his time at Bedford and Cranston Heights before this. He loved his job and even though he did not look like your typical nurse, he was excellent at his job. His voice was gentle unless it needed to be firm, as was his touch. The file on Addison Rollins said she was court ordered to be at Bedford because of a psychotic break. Included documents stated she was found at the scene of her father’s death, and even though the death had since been ruled an accident, no one could have a conversation with the young lady that made any sense. She was rambling to the dead man, apparently and that rose concern with the police department of her safety. Adult services had stepped in and despite family coming forward and offering to keep care of her, the courts denied them that privilege instead sending her into Atticus’s care.

The file felt incomplete. He’d known plenty of Daddy’s girls in his days but the initial reporting from the police said that every sibling said they’d killed the man even though it had been an accident. To Atticus, this felt like an act of protection which meant Addison Rollins had reason to kill or hurt her father. Approaching, he could hear the young woman talking to herself, or someone unseen but she seemingly cracked a smile when the big man entered the room. It almost looked like a smirk of victory. Interesting. The petite brunette looked up at him, handing him a small plastic cup with pills in it. There was so much sadness in her eyes. Atticus wasn’t a therapist but he could read people like no one else and the fact of the matter was he cared. She wasn’t just some file or some case number but a human being who’d suffered some form of trauma and he needed to do what he could to help her.

“They recommend you take them, yes.” His voice was what he hoped to be calming. “The little blue one will help you sleep. I am not going to force you to take it Addison but if you go into that room and can’t sleep or have bad dreams I can’t really help you. Are you worried about sleeping or dreaming?” Those two things played big parts in folks not taking their medications. So did past addictions. Addison could certainly have that problem too and if she did then there was way more going on than her family was letting on. “Let me show you to your room, Miss Rollins, and we can talk about the pros and cons of getting a good night sleep.” He winked at her, keeping the pills in hand and motioning toward the door. “You’ll be able to have visitors in a few days but for now it is my job to make sure you are safe. I like to make sure people are comfortable and happy too. We can work on that together.”

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Addison supposed a part of her always knew one day Ben would drive her insane, what she hadn't expected was that it would take his death to do it. Sitting in a large sweater, leggings and tee shirt, not her normal attire by any means she couldn't help but reflect on what brought her here. There was a lot that happened before she and Astrid turned 18, starting at fourteen when Ben ripped away their innocence. Desperate to get out from his hold each girl had tried various escapes, though no physically leaving. Astrid had turned to drugs and sometimes sex, Addison turned to alcohol and sex. Anything and anyone was better. It was hard to keep the two worlds she lived in spinning but somehow she had managed, with only dropping the balls a few times. Then the truth came out, at least in private, never had it seen the inside of courtroom, heaven forbid the Rollins name be tarnished. That was a joke, but honestly at that point all she cared about was not being near Ben. What her siblings didn't know was that it wasn't as long lived as Astrid's.

Honestly she couldn't remember what brought her to the house that day, but when she arrived and found a young girl in the kitchen with her father she knew she had to act. Of course Ben was eager to have his favorite girl and a sordid affair, if you could call it that began. Addison was surprised she didn't need a mental hospital then, but somehow she had made it to this point and she had seen him dead. Now though she saw his ghost and it was worse because no-one else did. Caught rambling to him the police quickly took her into custody and put her into protection. Addison had no idea that each and everyone of her siblings claimed to have killed the man, but had she known she would have smiled at how much they tried to protect her, in the end the state decided she needed more care than her family could give. 

When the room fell quiet because of the large man entering Addison prayed he'd stick around to give her some respite. Smiling at him she handed over the pills they left for her. Sighing she nodded, "I know they recommend them, but I don't like the way drugs make me feel." She said, clearing her throat and trying to recognize the voice coming out of it as hers. "Help me sleep?" She asked looking down on it, sleep did sound good, it had been a long time since she had a full and restful one. Looking up again she pulled her lip in between her teeth. "I can't remember the last time I slept a full night, but it's not bad dreams per say." No, they weren't dreams they were memories, ones she wished could bury with her father. "Please call me Addie or Addison, Miss Rollins makes me think of my mother and I'd rather not." Feeling another smile at his wink she nodded and headed to the door. "I thought it would be longer than a few days. I'm sure they're worried about me." It was weird to think about. She knew her family loved her, but she had isolated herself so much from them, and yet they  stuck with her. She certainly didn't feel worthy of that, but she was thankful for it, even if she couldn't say it. As they walked she listened to him speak, "Can I ask why you work here? I mean I know they don't like the word crazy, but why work with crazy people?" Brushing some hair behind her ear she chuckled, "I sound pretty sane right now, but they caught me yelling with a dead man, who by the way is not around right now, so thank you for that."

Down with the Sickness

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overtureofchaos‌:

Doyle was so thankful when Norah walked in. He really didn’t want to see anyone else’s face tonight. Especially that one girl, whatever her name was with the wig collection and breath like spearmint. I mean, he’d fucked her but she was definitely on the appetizer menu and tonight Doyle needed something from the high dollar wine cellar. She was a sight for sore eyes. Immediately he felt scolded by her look at the glass. He knew better than to actually drink but those pictures were haunting. Not only that but this guy had four victims in two states and he was not looking forward to leaving the next day for Oregon. To a town called Boring, no less. Boring was not Doyle’s cup of tea.

She called him Lee, which meant his off mood was oozing off him. Everyone usually called him Doyle and he was fine with that but there was something soothing about her voice when she spoke it. Norah was a repeater because she was real. She listened but she also enjoyed his company. It helped there were no expectations so the two had become fuck buddies though they never saw each other out of the club. If he were honest he would be willing to take her home. She wasn’t needy and she was not a gold-digger. The woman was far too savvy to need a man to survive. Doyle could only assume she’d been burned too many times in the past to ever need a man again.

The truth was Doyle didn’t feel like he needed anyone either. He liked sex. He wasn’t a cuddler, didn’t do pillow talk and never felt the need to see a woman walk out of his bedroom in the morning wearing nothing but his shirt. Though it had happened a few times, the man would always make sure to mess things up by caller her by a different name. Sometimes it wasn’t an accident. Doyle could have retired by now had he invested the Trojan stock. The warmth of the other’s body penetrated his slacks and he could feel that familiar tingle. He couldn’t erase all he’d seen but he could fuck it all away. She was in the position of power and Doyle needed to change that.

Gripping her ass, he pulled her closer while shifting to the end of the pink leather sofa. The man stood, keeping her close and pressed her against the wall. She smelled so tantalizing, so he nibbled at her neck while freeing himself with one hand. For all the wrongs Doyle had done in his life he was not one to make a woman suffer. They were his favorite past time and their pleasure was a measure of his own masculinity. Fingers easily finding her clit, Doyle rubbed gently until she was wet enough for him to slide in. Ripping at her bra he pulled it down enough to access her nipple, taking it in his mouth. His long tongue flicking over it before biting down just enough to elicit a moan. She wanted to help him? This was the best medicine.

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Seth prided himself on having an up front legal strip club, made a big deal about it, but it was all a front. Behind the doors of the private rooms a man could pay to get anything he wanted. It wasn't to say that all the girls fucked, but most of them wanted the extra money. Besides, Seth had a habit of letting girls go when they didn't play along. Norah wondered if it was because of business or because those girls usually didn't want his dick either. Sadly Norah knew how she got to be where she was. It wasn't just her skills on the dance floor, it was her repeat clients in the back, the money she generated and of course keeping Seth happy. It wasn't her favorite past time, but he wasn't horrible either, most of the time.

Still there were benefits, and the man whose lap she now straddled was one of them. Lee Doyle knew how to please a woman, and lucky for them he enjoyed doing it. It was more than that, though she wouldn't admit it, she liked when he came in. Time with him was more than incredible sex, they actually talked, he didn't treat her like a dumb blonde, but saw her potential. It had been a long time since someone had seen that. Norah Baldwin didn't need a man, she would never depend on one again. Before taking on this personality she had been Rachel Wagnor, but Rachel died when she was 18, Norah took over and would never go back. Rachel had lived longer than expected she was sure, between her step father, her photographer/porn making boyfriend and her drug addiction Norah was amazed there was anything left. The day she turned 18 she was thrown to the curb and that broke Rachel, giving Norah a turn at being in charge. She wasn't crazy didn't have multiple personalities, she was more like the Phoenix rising from the ashes. Rachel went up in flames and Norah emerged from them.

Norah never expected anything from Doyle and would gladly just be his fuck buddy, but tonight she could sense he needed something more. Not more than sex, that was inevitable, but he was tense and had taken a sip of alcohol, whatever it was, it was bad. Resting her arms on his shoulders she slid a hand to massage, "You're so fucking tense," she said, not making a move at more because one thing Norah had learned was that Doyle liked to be in control, which was more than fine by her. Unable to stop the smirk when she felt his growing erection she shifted down on her hips, biting her lip to play at innocent, though they both knew she was anything but. Letting out a gasp when he grabbed her ass she tightened her legs around his strong hips as he stood. Feeling the wall meet her back she pulled her arms back and rested her hands on his shoulders now for balance.

"You gonna fuck me," she whispered out, eyes fluttering closed when his mouth found her neck. It was one of her weak spots and he fucking knew it. Her nipples grew hard in the bra and ached for his mouth. "Fuck," she cried out, arching into him when his nimble fingers found her clit. Already wet just seeing him she was now going to be soaking from his ministrations. Grinning because he read her mind she moaned when his mouth found her nipple, letting out another soft cry of pleasure at the bite. Her fingers already dug into his shoulders, her legs tight around his waist. Opening them further she wanted him inside of her. Sliding one hand down his toned chest she chuckled, "Already out and I didn't notice," she said in a husky voice, stroking his cock before guiding it to her pussy. Norah knew better than to stick it in, he wanted control she'd give it to him, but damn she wanted his cock filling her. "Let's make the pictures rattle on the walls," she breathed out into his ear, letting him know he could fuck her against the wall and as hard as he needed. Sliding a little on the wall to rub her cunt against his shaft. "Please Doyle," she moaned out, waiting for his first thrust.

It’s been a while/Doyle & Norah

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thebrothersblair‌:

Gavin never thought he would drive so recklessly. Of the two he would definitely be considered the good boy. All his centuries on this planet he’d figured out that his punishment wasn’t because he stood up for Wolfgang. He was being punished because he hadn’t taken a side. That neutrality was his curse and over time he had decided the only way to make things right was to take a side. So he had. He was not sure if it was God’s side but he chose humanity for sure. There were plenty of very bad things the man had done over the decades, but Gavin felt those things were done out of love for the people who deserved peace. Like angels, not all humans were worthy.

Harper needed help and all Gavin could see was a different beach house. There were inconsistent visions of two different houses but he could see a local street name and numbers on a blue house. There was a woman with long, dark hair and a beautiful laugh, but he couldn’t see her face. The downfall of having abilities is sometimes they were very random. All Gavin knew was he was drawn to this particular house. He’d handed Harper to Wolfgang and took over driving since he knew the way for the most part. When they arrived, the house looked just as pictured in his mind. His parking lacked something for sure, but the tires screeching to a halt on the long driveway prompted the woman from his vision to run out.

He jumped from the truck, “Help us, please, she’s hurt.” Gavin opened the passenger door and Wolfgang gingerly stood to ensure Harper was not being hurt any further. When he glanced up at the brunette Wolfgang froze, nearly dropping Harper. Thankfully Gavin took her “Please help, it’s Harper.” Everything moved in slow motion again. Wolfgang’s heart was pounding in his ears, drumming no one else could hear but the scenery went blurry as the man fell to his knees. Gavin paid no attention, abruptly taking Harper inside. Wolfgang watched the woman follow.

She was not just some friend. His ability to see all things hidden, Wolfgang could see her soul. Tears burned his cheeks and the very breath in his lungs burned like dragon-fire. God was playing some sick joke on him. He never recycled souls. Never. Reincarnation was something mankind created. There was a truth that souls were real things but they went to heaven or hell when their time expired. This woman, this friend carried the soul of his Elizabeth and in damn near frightened Wolfgang. Slowly he rose to his feet, knees still trembling and entered the house. There was chaos, Gavin panicking for the life of the young woman they’d rescued and Elizabeth in tears. All the man could do was stand there in awe.

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After being passed from one man to another Harper was on the verge of passing out, and she worried she wouldn't wake from it. There was a blackness seeping into her vision and even blinking didn't make it disappear. She couldn't help but wonder if she died, but that didn't make sense, because why would these two men be helping her. Maybe it was a dream, her mind and body trying to protect her from the horrors of whatever death the man who had taken her would be dolling out. Feeling wetness touch her lips she managed to take in some water before coughing. A soothing voice told her to go easy and she nodded slowly before everything went black. Harper was sure she would see it coming, or that the water would stop the darkness but the effort of nodding took all she had left and she crashed into the surrounding darkness.

When the truck stopped she was able to open her not swollen eye for a brief moment. She could hear Lizzie, smell the salt water and feel the breeze. Slowly a smile formed, and she reached for the comfort, but it proved too much and her head fell against Wolfgang's shoulder again. She stayed that way as he stood, and almost dropped her, not even stirring when Gavin took her back and rushed inside with her. Perhaps it was the peace of knowing she was safe but this time when she fell into the abyss she wasn't afraid, in fact she welcomed it and felt it greeting her. 

When she heard the tires screeching she ran out, stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. Harper was there, looking much closer to death than Lizzie every wanted to see. Slammed back into the present when the man spoke she nodded, running inside to grab her phone and first aid kit, tears falling from her eyes but she did nothing to stop it. "Put her on the couch," she spoke out as she followed the man inside. Glancing at the other man she frowned to see him on his knees but she shook her head, she had no time for this. Dialing 911 she called for an ambulance, coming over to check Harper's pulse. It was there, but faint, her breathing raspy through the bruising on her neck. "Where did you find her," she asked softly, brushing some hair off her face, and letting out a stifled gasp at how swollen everything was. 

"An ambulance is coming, we weren't able to find her. The police found her car and saw signs of a struggle but that was it." For a moment she wondered if these men were responsible for what was before her but the look in his eyes, there was no way he had done this. "Was she able to tell you her name, and where we are staying?" Harper moaned on the couch and Lizzie jumped up, "Hey, I'm here," she said softly, taking Harper's hand as she tried to lift it. "She's going into shock," Lizzie said looking to the man whose name she had yet to ask, "There's a blanket on the chair, please hand that to me." Laying the blanket down over Harper she squeezed her hand, seeing the poor girl pass out again. Sighing softly, she brushed hair off her face and turned when she heard noise at the door. The other man had come inside, and Lizzie stood, wiping at her face. "I don't even know your names. I'm Lizzie, and you are?"

@thebrothersblair​

Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina

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Euphoria (2019—) Created by Sam Levinson

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http://iglovequotes.net/

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MARGOT ROBBIE Glamour Mexico (2016).

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Happy Birthday Daisy Ridley

April 10

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Lily James photographed by Emma Holly Jones, 2013