#Peter Dominic

[rearend]

Chloe A Perfect Body By Peter Dominic

[eggsaladstain]

this show is sooooo unserious lmao

Source: My Lady Jane, Season 1 Episode 2

[cull3nblaze]

What if history were different?

My Lady Jane in a nutshell

[drewbaylor13]

Orlando Bloom and Dominic Monaghan

[spidermandni]

misses

james has never been good at hiding how he feels, he was very obvious. he has a big heart that he wears on his sleeve, beating endlessly for you. the two of you had been broken up for only two weeks and it had ended well; the both of you decided that you were better off as friends. it all was going well until your entire friend group decided to have a picnic.

james felt like his heart was going to break its way out of his chest and jump into your hands at the sight of your glowing skin against the beaming sunlight and your bright smile whenever you heard a joke that you thought was funny. the added blush to your cheeks, the way your lip gloss gleamed when you tilted your head a certain way, and your soft legs that nudged his as you all bunched together on the plaid picnic blanket. he tried his hardest to pay attention to the conversation and at all the playful banter, but the only thing he could find has gaze trailing to was you.

“what’s the point of the two of you being just friends if you’re gonna keep looking at them like that?” remus whispers to him, being kind enough to not expose him to everyone though he has a smirk threatening to curl up his lips. james clears his throat and shakes his head, his hand raising to rub the nape of his neck as he avoids looking at the sandy haired boy.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, moony.”

“sure you do, james, you haven’t heard a single thing we’ve said in the past five minutes.” sirius cuts into the side conversation with a wide grin on his face, his voice louder than a whisper, but not drawing much attention from the main conversation happening in front of them.

“of course i have.” he tries to argue but his cheeks burn at being called out, not realizing that he had been that transparent.

“what did dorcas just say her favorite ice cream to have during summer was?” remus grills with raised eyebrows and james groans internally.

“mint?”

“cookies n cream, but nice try.” sirius snorts.

“whatever.” he grumbles and ignores his friends’ laughter; his eyes going back to you as you slap peter’s shoulder while throwing your head back in your own chuckles. james feels his ears burning while he gazes at you and that’s it. he may have agreed with you on choosing to break up and stay platonic, but that doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind. he’ll work on getting you back eventually, but he can settle for just admiring you for the moment. no matter how obvious it is that he misses you.

[in-love-with-movies]

An Education (2008)

[bombuni]

live in love and die (18+)

Summary: You’re starting to believe your husband isn’t really your husband anymore. Still, you let him take what he wants from you. (wc: 2.5k)

CW: There is an uncomfy undertone throughout the story (Miguel is from a different universe and reader can tell) so beware of that. Enjoy :) MINORS DONT INTERACT TY!!

He is exactly like your husband. No, he is your husband.

But you still can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes when you part to catch your breath. Like you’ll look up, see a different man’s face and find that he’s been wearing your husband's skin this entire time. For some reason, he’s rougher today. Breath heavy and bringing you in like he’s never been tempted by anything as much as you.

You still feel like you’ll drown in his hands, in the way he glides his fingers ever so gently over your sides. He’s treasuring you. Letting his body do as it pleases, and it wishes to control and seize every part of you. Usually, his body wants to memorize you. He wants to take what he wants from you, but with a smile and a blush on his face. Now, he does it hungrily.

This is fine, right?

Gabriella is still at school. You don’t remember what excuse Miguel had made up to stay home with you today. By the way he had followed you into every room, watched you out of the corner of his eye, you knew he had a reason for staying home. You usually didn’t mind spending time with him, but now you couldn’t get away from him. He seemed to watch you like an animal in a zoo.

You pulled him into you as he kissed your neck. Miguel had never been a patient man, but he kissed you so fervently it felt like he was trying to eat you whole. You swear it's like a vampire trying to find your sweet spot.

Hesitantly, you lift him by his hair so you can search his eyes, “What’s with you today, Miggy?”

He’s reluctant to pull away and to answer, “Been a while.”

It’s funny, you think, how hard it is to get honest words out of Miguel. At least, whenever the subject is him. Whenever you ask about work and why he comes home late, he waves you off. If you were to ask what his hobbies are, another wave of his hand paired with no answer.

But you had had sex only a couple of days ago.

You don’t push it. You think you know your husband and he’s always been like this. Sweet, but silent.

Once he sees you’re satisfied with the answer he’s back to caressing you, gentler this time, like a wolf trying to sweetly coax a lamb away from its mother.

The part of you that’s still pointing out the differences in the way his lips feel is slowly but surely dying out. His weight on top of you as he pushes you back into the bed is too familiar and too tempting not to give in to. His touch always leaves you lightheaded and floating. You hold on to him so you don’t float away.

He’s pushy and already rock hard, you can feel it by the way he incessantly grinds down onto you, as he pulls your panties down. He kneads your thighs and stares at your pussy with a look you haven’t quite seen on him before. Maybe once, when you first had sex. He’d regarded you with such tenderness and desire that it made your skin too hot to be in.

His gaze turns to you again, licking his lips like he’s a dying man and he’s just found his first meal in a while. It’s too intense, too much, too quickly. His eyes pin you to your place and as much as you want to look away, you really can’t. Unconsciously, you’ve closed your legs. Why you’re hiding from him now, you don’t know.

“Abre,” He mumbles the word out coldly, like he’s really only here for one thing and you’re making him work for it.

You hesitate for a second, still frozen by his stare. He gently pries your legs open, pressing kisses along your calf when he brings your leg up to rest on his shoulder.

You feel vulnerable. Every now and again you are gently reminded of how big Miguel is, and now is one of those times. He’s engulfing you so that you can’t leave, taking all the breath in the room, and grabbing you by the waist to pull and maneuver you in whichever way he pleases.

He whispers into the skin of your leg as his kisses move closer to your middle, “So pretty, mami.”

It’s like he keeps having to reign himself in. Like he has to remember who he is.

Still, you sigh contently to yourself. No, that’s Miguel. Your Miguel.

But that seems to be the end of it. As soon as his thumb makes contact with your already throbbing clit he’s back to being greedy and aching. Hissing when he swipes over your already dripping slit, he’s quick to get his fingers covered in you. It’s like a fun game to him, the way his eyes light up at the sounds you make.

He pulls his fingers out and into your line of vision, “Look how wet you are.”

He says it in a matter-of-fact tone. For some reason, he can’t believe that you’re this wet for him. You blush at the focused look on his face as he watches the silver strand of your slick move between his fingers. Before you can say anything, he takes his fingers into his mouth. He licks his pointer and middle finger slowly and deliberately, wanting to clean them off as much as possible. Taste you as much as possible. It’s a pretty display. You find yourself, again, unable to look away.

There’s a string of saliva from his plump lips and his fingers as he brings them down to your entrance. Slowly, he enters them. Watching carefully how your hole is so eager to take him, any part of him. Watching your lips part and your brows furrow as you try to make room for him.

His fingers pump in and out of you, reaching as far as they can. Miguel still has a dazed look on his face, admiring the sight of your pretty pussy. It’s always a struggle with him being so big, but so eager.

As impatient as he was, he’d always wait for you. He wasn’t waiting this time.

Before you know it he’s pulled his underwear down and has his cock out, standing hard against his happy trail.

Weird. You remember he shaved.

He hitches his cock on your hole before you grab his arm, still dizzy from his touch, “W-wait, it’s not gon-“

He’s never shushed you before, but it’s not unwelcome. His lips on yours take your mind off of it, because this is Miguel. As sarcastic as he could be, your Miguel would never hurt you. You believe this with your entire heart and soul, so you let him in despite not prepping as much as you usually do.

“Just need to fuck you, okay?” He whispers against you.

You’ll never get used to the stretch of him, no matter how many times he fucks you. The burning feeling as he enters you is ingrained into you, so you hold steady against him and try to relax into him. You always do with Miguel.

He keeps sliding in until he bottoms out, letting out a guttural groan when he feels all of you. Again, like a dying man. He sits there for a second, both of you reveling in the feeling of being filled and squeezed down on.

And again, he’s unable to resist his own urge as he hurriedly thrusts into you. You’re his wife and you’ve been in this position countless times, but he’s looking down at you and you can’t really recognize the look on his face. He’s concentrated, like he always is, but there’s a dangerous look in his eye. The energy in the room shifts into Miguel’s control, instead of just two lovers. You realize he’s been in control this entire time.

He fucks you devastatingly, pulling out all the way before slamming into you at a fast pace. Miguel usually eases into it, but you figure he’s just stressed from work. That’s why you encourage him by pulling him down into you, close enough until you think he’s breathing for the both of you.

He doesn’t know whether to drag this out as long as he can or to chase his own high.

He groans into your neck, “Like it when I fuck you like this?” Emphasizing his words with a hard shove of his cock as he finishes his sentence.

He’s definitely worked up.

“Yes. Yes, Miguel.”

Your breathless and light words spur him on as he keeps thrusting in you, gripping your hips so hard you’re sure you’ll bruise. It reminds you of just how much he’s holding back. How if he wanted to, he could simply pick you up and fuck you in the air.

He has half the mind to do just that.

He’s still being greedy in how he fucks you, solely focused on the way your pussy tightens up every time he whispers dirty nothings into your ear. He’s sweaty and you’re entirely sore at this point, but neither of you really care, too lost in each other to really pay attention to anything else.

The feeling of him taking control and losing himself in you as if he hasn’t had any semblance of you in years has you closer to the edge than you thought. Your spine tingles with a hot, electric buzz and your legs tense with every single thrust. You’re acutely aware of everywhere you feel Miguel. His hot breath fanning over your neck, his hands digging deliciously into your hips, and his big cock shamelessly drilling into you.

He raises his head, brown locks falling into his face, “You gonna cum?” He whispers hoarsely, the words only ever spoken for you.

You nod into the pillow, too far gone to think about an actual answer. That should be enough, you think, he has you so fucked out that you can’t even come up with a sentence.

He tsks as he suddenly stops all movement. The loss of friction makes a pathetic squeak crawl out of the deepest parts of you. The fire that he started within you is dull again, but aching to spark. You look up at him, expecting some sort of hang up.

“You gonna answer me properly?” His hips still, deep in you.

Ah.

The question makes you pause your imploring whines. It hits you deep, and your mouth moves before you can even stop it, “Wanna cum so bad, Miguel,”

He tugs you down by your hips, impossibly close. He has a sardonic smile plastered on his face, smug like he knows that you can't stop yourself from bending to his every whim. He slides his cock out teasingly slow and pauses when just the tip remains. Just when you think he’s going to start up that heat again, he leans up and away from you.

Miguel has never been so sadistic. He always gave in to you, never one to tease or taunt you because he just couldn’t resist watching you writhe under him.

He’s looking down at you with that look again. The look you can’t quite place. There’s a wanting in his eye, and his smile is faltering. He studies you for a second and you think he’s going to tell you what’s wrong.

“Ruégame.” His tone is final and demanding. You don’t hear it often other than when he’s scolding Gabriella.

His hold tightens on you, like he’s afraid that single word he uttered will make you run. But he’s not nervous. He’s sweaty from the excursion and steel faced, waiting patiently for you to speak. As if his cock isn’t twitching inside you, just as ready to fuck you as you are to take it. His demand makes you blush from embarrassment, but you both know you can’t help but do as he says.

You slur out through the heat that’s taken you over, “Please, let me cum, Miguel. Need to feel you,”

You’re absolutely sure there’s bruises on your hips already forming as he grips you even tighter, “Not good enough.”

You shake your head fervently as a small tantrum comes over you, “I’ve been good, Miguel, please,”

He smirks, almost patronizingly, down at you as he splits you open on his cock, moving his hips forward slowly but surely. He’s enjoying the way you’re broken down to your bare bones and begging for him like it’s instinct. He likes this game he’s made where he makes it his mission to make you just as desperate as he is.

“Yeah, you’ve been so good for me, haven’t you?”

You nod, embarrassed and ashamed at how fast your head moves to answer his question.

“My baby needs her brains fucked out, doesn’t she? Looks so pretty when she does.”

You let out an involuntary whine at his words. They fill you up and take you over until all you can really register is how good he fucks you, how big he feels, and how he’s not letting you go at all.

He’s back to that fast pace he’s now accustomed you to. He fills you up like he was meant to, like this was your entire purpose in life. To lay here and take Miguel and let him use you like he wants. Yeah, that might be right. You don’t really remember anything else.

Before you know it there’s pleasure traveling up and all over you. The tingle runs up your spine before spreading out into every limb of yours, too numb to even hold onto Miguel. You try to warn him when you’re close, but his cock shuts you up.

He groans out when he feels you squeeze down tighter and tighter until you let out a yelp, a sudden ball of sparks and fire erupting in you and having no place to go but on Miguel’s cock. He fucks you through it, whispering in your ear about how ‘Te vez tan hermosa así, mami.’ He keeps thrusting until he finally cums in you, bottoming out and moaning divinely into your ear as you take every drop he has to offer.

He thrusts one last time, shoving any of him that managed to leak out back into you. It’s a silent claim that you don’t bother arguing against.

Your husband loves you. He loves you enough to stave off his sleepiness after sex. He always gets up and walks to grab a rag to wipe you down. He always kisses you where he reaches, apologizing silently for being too rough with his puppy-dog stare he gives only you. He always checks on Gabriella one last time before kissing you goodnight.

Miguel nods wordlessly when you ask him to bring you a rag. He returns with a yawn and usually you’d apologize for keeping him awake. Tonight, you’re too nervous to say anything. He wipes you down, but he does it in an unfamiliar and disconnected way. He doesn’t know-or remember-how to care for you.

You pretend to sleep when he settles back into bed, hesitant lips touching your temple.

You don’t say goodnight.

[hoplittlecrocodile1]

@primevideo Acting like utter peasants and not renewing My Lady Jane for Season 2 might be the most selfish and disappointing thing I've ever seen 😭

[random-jot]

[neverscreens]

— MY LADY JANE, SEASON ONE.

Who'll Be the Next in Line?, Part One, Part Two.

Wild Thing, Part One, Part Two.

With A Girl Like You, 495 Screencaps.

Bluebird is Dead, Part One, Part Two.

I'm Gonna Change the World, Part One, Part Two.

I Feel Free, 498 Screencaps.

Another Girl, Another Planet, 497 Screencaps.

God Save the Queen, Part One, Part Two.

Like or reblog if it was useful, every interaction shows us that we should keep making screencaps for y'all ♡

[rearend]

Chloe A Perfect Body By Peter Dominic

[elliegoestodownton]

PSA: The Hour is now on Netflix UK (and maybe abroad?). If you have never watched this, do yourself a favour and check it out. It's one of the most beautiful and tragic things ever and I am still mourning its axing 12 years later. If you have watched it, we can be traumatised all over again (as if I didn't have a DVD set and downloaded episodes...).

[cull3nblaze]

What even is this show 😆

[drewbaylor13]

The Lotr cast🫶🏻

[ritiridel]

I made this collage, hope you like it.

•

J.R.R Tolkien Quotes, The lord of the rings ♥️

[theknucklehead]

I do like that a lot of shows have referenced/parodied Inside Out.

Granted the Simpsons have done this kind of joke lots of times before. (Here are some episode examples:

Diatribe of a Mad Housewife

We're on the Road to D'oh-where

The Blue and the Gray)

But to do it specifically as a reference to Inside Out and with their cast representing the emotions is cleverly done. Plus it's a hundred times better then what Family Guy did.

Seriously? Was it too much trouble to put someone like Mort Goldman as Fear?