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[paddyfuck]

Anne could easily thaw him with the brushes of her lips against his skin. It had been that way from the moment they had first fallen in love, and she would argue that it had absolutely been at first sight. Infinitely deeper than any could've expected of them both; too young and moving too fast for comfort. Joined at the hip. Divorced before the year's end, some had snickered. Yet one year had turned into two, two into three and their family flourished before their eyes. It grew slowly, as it often did with their kind, but promised a need for a larger home in time. Anne turned her head, so her cheek could rest against the bareness of his shoulder. Badum, badum. Badum, badum. The comfort of his heartbeat.

She felt the cold flash of dread when she imagined it so far from her. Away from where she could help him, where it would feel like a part of herself would be missing when he pulled out of their town. "I mean most things I say," she said softly. Uncharacteristically quietly, actually. "Sean will be fine with his aunt. He will be the safest pup in the world. You know this better than anyone. He will be with his pack, one way or another." There was a pause as he moved to tilt her head back, and ginger brows furrowed. Not in anger, but in stubbornness. "And his father will be wandering into uncharted territory, alone and without anyone to call for aid should it go sour." Anne pressed a small, sullen kiss against his mouth. "I am going. And you should know better than anyone that you will not change my mind."

John would be acting as a scout for their band, a pair of eyes to investigate a row of deaths that occurred in too short of a time period to be anything normal or natural. Especially that close to another reservation, and one that likely housed a pack of their own. He would have to contact the leader and the representative of their most sacred circle that moment he arrived to their boarders. He also knew that the moment he came into their territory they would be on him like, for lack of better terminology, a pack of wolves. He turns with the thought, listening to declaration while she lay affections across his skin, a hand reaching back to intertwine his fingers through the line of her knuckles and drags it around his middle. Moving to meet her eye in the hopes that she was not push the decision that he was fighting to make in his heart..

"You mean that, don't you." He starts, watching her for a moment, turning with the lift and roll of his shoulder to further encompass her against him as he rests his weight back against his palm. "Mama." John starts, their faces so close to one another, "Nowhere is safe, it's true.. Which is why I need you here. With our Pup. To watch over him, and be protected... in ways that I won't be able to protect you out there." He lifts his other hand and with the curl of his index he tips her head back, eyes darting to her lips briefly before lifting back up to her gaze. "Boy is having it rough, and needs his mother more than he needs his father."

[paddyfuck]

                    ❝ He screams and screams and pounds his head against the wall until wailing phantom firetrucks paces across his vision. Pain. Pain is all he wants. And hate. Yes, hate. We shall never forget and never forgive. And never ever fear. Fear is for the enemy. Fear and bullets. ❞

                                                                                          written and loved very much by Mötley

[paddyfuck]

In this moment, in the company of the water and Kassandra herself, it was easy to get lost in this feeling. That lovely, jittery feeling of being both free and completely smitten. Anne would gladly drown in both, given half the chance, as though it would cup the tenderness of the moment in her hands for the rest of eternity. But there lay the issue of a heart that yearned for both soft things and the delights of her liberty. She would spend as much of it as she could with her. It had been something completely unspoken for a long stretch of time, where it would be certain that she would not lose her. No, in this moment, she felt ten foot tall.

Kassandra's lips were softer than she'd imagined. They tasted of salt and the sea, with a nip of the whiskey they'd been drinking over the duration of the night. She was about to sink into her when something brushed past her foot, and Anne made a surprised noise and pulled away.

"I think there's something under us," she said with a splutter. "I wouldn't be arsed if it were just seaweed, but these waters are known for havin' sharks, and that is not how I want to go."

Kassandra knew how to tease and tease well. She was dubbed she who launched a thousand hearts by Alkibiades, after all, and his exploits are still talked about to this day. And even with all the years between lovers, Kassandra still knew how to lay on the charm, the right words or intonations, closing the distance, and a certain look in the eyes. Even when the pale moon cast a more silver sheen over those golden eyes of hers. Those same golden eyes were now focused entirely on Anne. "What can I say? The Greeks invented romance." She could recite the love poems of Sappho all day, in their original text. No one wrote it better. "Good. I like this negotiation." Her lips curled into a smile as Anne leaned in to press salted lips softly against her own, the Keeper's hand gently cupping her face as she did.

[paddyfuck]

❝ i may not go down in history, but i'll go down on you. ❞ - @tryckthebard

The reputation of bards, Anne had quickly learned, was not one used to snub them and their natures. As the camp had begun to wind down for the evening, for the first time since they had crossed paths, she was alone with him. There were drinks to be shared; pilfered bottles of wine snuck from the supplies of the day, and they'd drank until they were light-headed.

Give me your best pickup line, she'd said. Tryck happily obliged, and for a moment the pirate sat in a stunned silence. It was quick to shift to laughter, and she did so with a loud bark and throw back of her head.

"I said your best," she teased. "Not your absolute worst. Gods, that is awful."

cringy, dirty & flirty.

[paddyfuck]

Anne hadn't known the bliss of complete peace in years. Not since she had been accepted with open arms into this odd little family, but she wouldn't trade any of them for the world. Afternoons like this were nice once in a while, but she would eventually stumble through the door of her own room a few hours later, six sheets to the wind and cherishing the chaos of it all. She loved Jewel especially, and she was certain the other woman knew that. "With any luck, he's going to be dozing when I'm getting him ready for bed," Anne said with a small laugh. "It's amazing Spencer can keep up with him. Man's more energy than anyone I've ever met in my entire life, like."

She turned her face upwards towards the sun with a content little smile. "I'll order dinner, since you're being kind enough to ply me with drink this afternoon. There's a nice Thai place that opened up downtown."

          @paddyfuck

               "They're not gonna have too much fun without us." Said Jewel as she walked to the outside table from dining area, armed with a tray that held two cocktail glasses, the jug of alcoholic mixture Jewel had concocted on a whim and a small bowl with ice cubes and tongs. Once seated opposite Anne, drinks were poured for the both of them. "Little Sean'll be absolutely ragged by the time Spencer's done with him. Promised he'd take me heaps of photos." Genuine smile pressed past lips as sunglasses were placed over eyes. "But now it's time for us, specifically you, to relax."

[paddyfuck]

Unlike her former guard, it seemed as though nothing would slip past Minthara. She had a keen eye, and a keener ear for listening to the silence that came as the castle seemed to still when the moon hung bright in the night sky. What she wouldn't give to be out there now, flying close enough to the treetops that she could feel the brush of leaves against her fingers when she reached downwards. Such was the liberties of the commonfolk, who she could see flitting about as free as birds in the midday sun.

With a haughty little huff and a cross flutter of her wings, Anne stomped back into her room. Though grandly decorated, and large enough to house at least one large family within it, the four walls felt stifling. For a brief moment, she longed for more archaic days, before the erection of the castle, where she might've been able to go what she pleased so long as she was chaperoned.

"I shall break the windows with my bare hands," Anne snarked, and turned to face her with both hands on her hips. She wore the expression of a chided and sullen child, who'd had her hand slapped away from a sweet treat. "And threatening royalty is an act of treason, I would have you know."

"Silence." The word come sharp and commanding before the guard steps over the princess and reaches to quickly shut the aforementioned window. Latching it shut before she quickly examines the sides of it, dragging her hand along the stone of the bottom and then a long the top, "This is the third occasion, and now I will see that your windows will be barred. Play the victim enough and you will find yourself under the axe." Minthara continues with the tug of the curtains closed. It was an insult to her ability, being the one as such given the duty to a rejected heir. But what choice does she have, when a debt remains unpaid, and there is no longer a home to return too.

Minthara then turns to face where the Princess still sat, bewildered, and folds her hands behind her back. Conveying just how willing she was to remain in place if the child insisted on going against her schedule and escaping into the wilds again.

[paddyfuck]

Were it not for the insistence of an overbearing father, Anne might've skipped Sundays altogether. For such pious people who filled those hard, uncomfortable pews, they seemed desperately keen to whisper behind fluttering fans and sickly-sweet smiles. Their topic? One Anne, who had long since stopped listening as the priest had prattled on about the thousand ways one might burn for giving into the base pleasures of life. Greed, gluttony, pride, lust; terribly unaware that it ran rampant among the congregation.

Gale did not judge her as others did. No, he accepted her faults with open arms in a way that she cared not how people whispered when they kept each others' company within eyesight of her hawk eyed chaperone. The one lady who had met her fire with fire of her own and well enough that it had earned the reluctant respect of Anne herself. She watched Gale for a moment, and her smile only grew. More catlike, glittery-eyed and entirely full of mischief.

"You would be surprised," she said, placidly. "I happen to be of the notion that marriages should be born of love. In failing that, that companionship when it comes to being terrified of being alone." She had not put much thought towards what lay in her future, when with each spurned suitor came a long stretch of silence.

"You are absolutely correct. I doubt I'd be able to pry him away from the hobby of patting his own back in order to fulfil our marital duties." Not that I could stomach the thought of it, she thought to herself with a mental shudder.

"My father, at this point, would probably lower his standards for the sake of having someone take me off of his hands by this point. He is desperate to take to coddling my younger brother to take over everything when he eventually dies. And God help the poor sod who's saddled with me, for he'll need to know how to navigate my temper above all else."

And Gale, watching her rare up to jabber, is a fortunate man, indeed, to have succeeded her opinion.

Yet, to those that would look at them, the image they would strike is worth a column in the tabloids. After all, she's the flame of the west, so viciously unorthodox as to seem a dissenter. She'd take to riots on her Sundays and skip confessionals at church, and she would spurn all a gentleman as she would spurn all their offers, unwedded in her death to but the devil or His fiends. Still, Gale, watching her, fits the bill rather handsomely. The rumors of his affair and his coming back from death... Chuckling, the fool and the she-devil turn some heads.

"Love? I should very much like to know what such a romantic and idyllic word would mean to the great Anne Cormac. Judging from the world on the block, I'd have thought your affections firmly rooted in rebellion." Still, as that comes from darling Gale, of course, it is shared most fondly. "Jokes aside, it's better Lorroakan's anger than a lifetime with his self importance. It's a shame I couldn't have seen his offense myself, but I believe I'll settle with your obvious satisfaction." He smiles behind his teacup. "It's just as well seeing as how, unlike your father, I wouldn't find myself content seeing you off with just any hand that'd have you. I'm beginning to doubt any man in England is worthy of you at all."

[paddyfuck]

I am normal about this i am normal about this i am normal abou t this

[paddyfuck]

If there's anything I've taken away from House of the Dragon, it's the rekindled my love for Ewan Mitchell

[paddyfuck]

niamh walsh as verity rutter → jamestown → s2 e02

[paddyfuck]

Gale was probably one of the few men that Anne could tolerate. More than tolerate, actually. She considered him a friend where the others sniffed around her like starving dogs on an abandoned corpse. Desperate, almost, to tame the fire in her and rise victorious so she might be something - yes, something and not someone - they could show off like a prized mare bought at auction. Anne was not the sort of person who enjoyed being a trophy over a person, and had sent many men away with their tails cradling their cocks.

And she took great delight in it too, for she was keeping count of all the various shades of red their faces turned in anger. Lorroakan's had been the funniest, how his lip had curled and how he had declared that there were finer women seeking husbands, and she'd laughed and told him to go and sniff at them, then.

"Maybe then I will be one of the lucky few of the available debutantes who gets to marry for love," she said with a grin that was entirely impish. She cast a look over his shoulder at the parchments littered over his table and hummed. "You should've seen the look on his face, Gale. Stormed out with a face on him like a slapped arse. I don't know who was more offended, him or my da." Her father, actually. She had arrived on the tail-end of an hour long lecture of old maids and the worth of women. The same spewed vitriol of a man who wanted his daughter as far away from his son, lest she stain is pristine reputation. "Here's to being unattainable and entirely headstrong enough to shirk the tedium of marriage."

Dear Blistering Anne! Dear Spirited Anne with a tongue like a whip! Say what you will of this blistering lady, but of all the qualities in the whole of the world, dull, uninteresting, can never be one. At ease, Gale idly sips his tea, indulging in some column waxing on the stars. Science, tea cakes, and her shadow shambling on over... Few things, Gale decides, can best Wednesdays like these.

"Keep as you are now, and I'm rather convinced you'll inspire this country to war over your hand," he greets, sat there at the gazebo at their favorite park. "In a fashion, you can very well be our next Helen of Troy. I heard you've gone and broken the heart of our favorite suitor." Ha. "Lorroaken, was it?" / @paddyfuck

[paddyfuck]

A long day of work, followed by a perfectly empty evening. Sean had begged her to sleep over at a friends house and, for the first time in what felt like years, she had a house entirely to herself. It was a little too quiet without his loud chatter, or excited begs to colour or listen and sing to the radio. She'd tried to put that on for background noise, but that felt perfectly empty without his singing.

The park felt like a good place to go. The muted bark and howl of dogs in the distance helped a little. She could imagine a majestic scene based solely on the noise of it. Dogs after an intruder, valiantly chasing down a would be thief with their owner close at heel!

Nothing that exciting, she knew.

Lost enough in her imaginings, she hadn't quite heard him approach. She'd seen Eddie in passing once or twice, and traded groggy hellos in the morning, or more chipper ones in the afternoons or evenings. Anne moved over just a little, so he wouldn't have to sit on the damp part of the seat.

Well, hard to do, considering this bench felt older than the trailer park itself and it had groaned worryingly when she'd sat on it herself.

"Don't you know it," she said with a smile, and took a small drag of her own cigarette. "Still prefer this place to where I grew up. Feels like this place has a bit of personality, rather than a bunch of retirees trying to measure the grass with a ruler."

An overexaggeration... sort of.

"Surprised you're not off out thrill seeking. You seem the sort to enjoy that."

@paddyfuck liked for a starter

at night time, there's no expectations of homework or errands or in tonights case, shifts at the hideout. something about a leak closing the place for the weekend, as if that ever shut the doors before. they've had worse.

eddie doesn't bother checking the time when he creeps out onto the porch. a few lights peer through the fog engulfing the trailer park. a distant echo of a neighbours dog barking but it's quiet, for once. he may play his music loud enough to burst eardrums && talk at a volume frustrating to others, but even eddie can appreciate quiet.

it seems he's not the only one.

just as his lighter flicks, his gaze lands on a figure on the bench by the playground. if you can even call it a playground. with a squint, he can just about make out her hair. a smile flickers across his face as he skips the steps from his home && strides toward anne.

" fancy seeing you here at this hour. " he grins, flopping down onto the spot next to her on the bench. " are you too plagued by our inability to make a decent living tonight?? "

[paddyfuck]

One of my favourite thing about Anne & Kidd's final stand is the fact that it was noted that while the two (& the one lad who was rumoured to take up arms with them) fought like hellcats, Anne actually shot one of the crew members out of pure, unbridled rage at them all being legless before they hit port. :B

[paddyfuck]

❛ your body was made for mine. ❜ // :3c

There would always be something thrilling about the weight of another settled between her legs. Genesis was by far one of the prettiest men she had ever laid her eyes on; hair as vibrantly red as hers. Bright, intelligent and cunning eyes and a tongue of shiny silver, now whispering praises into the columns of her throat. It had been a long time coming between them, really. Months of flirting over a bar. Shared drinks that always left the other dizzy and wanting more. Only a matter of time, really. Laughs turned to the closeness of heads, from there a kiss that she herself had initiated because she thought his lips looked soft.

Nothing in comparison to the rest of him, where Anne had spent more time than she would admit mapping out the parts of him so she might commit them to memory. Something for later, she'd thought. Anne liked being called pretty. Liked being complimented in the way she supposed all others liked. It warmed in the pit of her stomach and sharply shifted downwards, clenching between her legs hard enough to make her gasp as he moved above her.

Once curious hands grew braver, mapped over the broadness of his shoulders where fingers moved to find their home in the softness of his hair. Anne made a noise, and dragged that clever mouth of his back to hers. "Show me how much," she whined against his mouth, and her legs moved to cross at his lower back, as though it would draw him closer. Then she kissed him again. Breathlessly and clumsily.

& MORE SMUT MEMES. / @poeticphoenix.

[paddyfuck]

A world of trouble did not take much getting used to. Ever since she was a little girl, she'd held a vicious rebellion against anyone or anything that might dictate how she wanted to live. Now, twenty-something years into it, she was not about to lay down and expose her belly for the teeth of the bastards that tried now. Outlaw or not, she cherished her liberty above all else, and that would never really change.

She quite liked her pistol. A mauser. German made, and a quick enough shot that she could fire and retreat around a corner as fast as lighting. "Now's not really the time to be arguin' that, like," she hollered.

For a brief moment, there was silence. Charles rootled, and Anne watched his back, and moved from cover at his command. A small, red-headed little shadow. "Think out best bet is to make for the horses, then for the trees. Ain't no use stickin' around here much longer."

Hit dogs holler. It's just a shame these dogs have some mighty big teeth. Bracing against a wall as bullets whiz past, Charles checks his sawed-off shotgun before blasting away a bastard that got a little too close for comfort. He might not go out of his way to kill, but if it's his life on the line, he will go as far as he needs to.

❛ Smart is one word for it, ❜ he grunts. Reckless comes more to mind. There's no plan here, just violence--and it sets his teeth on edge. He digs through the dead man's jacket. Waste not.

----A smoke bomb. Interesting.

With a raised brow, Charles pockets it before reloading his gun. ❛ Follow me. ❜

[paddyfuck]

LINDA LAWSON as MORA in Night Tide (1961) dir. Curtis Harrington

[paddyfuck]

This is motivating Anne today.