Mariah.

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Everything posted by Mariah.

  1. Rain King

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } Why don't you invite me in? "Well isn't that just adorable," Dawson condescendingly mocks his subordinate, seasoning it with a chuckle, though his eyes remain frigid and vehement. He leans forward, placing his forearms on the ice cold table, and softens his voice into an unsettling purr, as the air vents rattle and the lights above hiss. "You see, my friend, it's a little more complex than me just wanting you. Of course I'd want you, what with all that I've heard you're entirely capable of. My conflict, however, is whether or not I can trust you." The tension was tangible, forming a sinister third body in the room. As was being implied to his potential ally, Dawson had been scorned before—one time too many—and still had nothing yet to show for it. It was uncharacteristic of him to just allow for treachery and treason within his kingdom, with no beheadings. But his conflict within himself was caused by certain deeper attachments. Most of his cohorts weren't just his knights and servants; often, with time, they became his family. A family he could rely on to carry him on their shoulders. A family who could rely on him to do the same. A family he could control. The Olympia underworld, which he built in its current iteration, was in part created to give Dawson what he felt he was missing: the family he truly wished he was born into. All this to say, however, that Ira was not family just yet. Not nearly.  "You see, I don't do one offs or freelancers. And I certainly don't do turncoats or backstabbers. Once you're in, you're in, and you're not permitted to leave until I say you can. Anyone who refuses to oblige by this quite simply won't make it to see another day. And if I can't find you, I'll find your family, your friends, anyone you care about. No sin goes unpunished And those who remain faithful, reap the rewards." His lips span wide, his pearlescent white teeth projecting his enthralling, bewitching, wicked grin as his demeanor chillingly changes to one more playful. "That's an Irish accent, by the way, right? I have an Irish background, as well. Lots of family in Ireland. Friends too, more so than enemies. The Clarke bloodline extends throughout everywhere." A Dawson Clarke patent: a violent, terrifying threat, laced with his delectable charm and charisma. MONTY @Palpatine
  2. Firestarter

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } the fear addicted "Nice to meet you too," Andrew politely responds, the right half of his lips coiling into a smug little smirk, before he proceeds to roll off his own shirt to showboat for his adversary, despite his previous modesty whilst alone with Bobby. Sucking air through his teeth and applying pressure to his wound, as the pain surges through his arm upon it being raised, he returns to address August.  "So tell me about yourself, Auggie; I can call you Auggie, right? I'm curious how you two pretty boys stopped checking yourselves out in the mirror long enough to even strike up an opening conversation with one another? I'd guess it had something to with the female species, but Boston here has been busy being smitten as a kitten with that stunning new blonde on the scene." If Andrew were good at nothing else, his ability to deflect and talk himself out of any situation was astonishing, him remaining careful to weave through rubble in evasion like a rodent. In mentioning the bewitching Emma De Angelo, however, his curiosity naturally piqued. The last he heard, his brother was still being avoided. But a poignant and insightful conversation with Emma herself managed to provide more context to the complex situation at play. As much as Andrew had seen Bobby become uncharacteristically bent out of shape over Emma avoiding his advances, her decision was understood. She had a son, and as good as man that Andrew knew his best friend to truly be, he wasn't sure—with Bobby's demons—that he was ready for that. It garnered the utmost sympathy from Andrew, too, because he could tell that there was something sparking on Emma's side, just as it were on Bobby's.  "Actually, hermano, what's the latest with you and her? You seem a little more upbeat and energetic, so I take it you've been feeling better?" successfully finding a topic he was more interested in than August—one which keeps from having to address the elephant in the room—Andrew decides to clue the increasingly awkward third party in, as Andrew himself slides on boxing pads and takes position for Bobby to unload. "Long story short, our boy here seems to be getting soft, falling for one of those 'Siren' dancers. She's really cool and down-to-earth, though. And super sexy... like, unbelievably sexy. So I don't blame him at all. Emma was her name." MONTY @ris
  3. their models look like that computer game version of The Game of Life you'd get in the cereal box
  4. You Get What You Give

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } WE'VE GOT THE DREAMERS DISEASE “Again, you're perfectly fine. Could use a bit of company, anyway. I mean... I already have the perfect company right here, but I think the more the merrier. Right Lucas?" Emma's smile was soft as butter, almost emitting back the real sense of said home her opposite had reminded her of; the chocolate chip cookies in the oven, the burning wood of a fireplace. That's how Aurora felt—similar to the girls she'd grown up with back in Seattle, who weren't burned by said home bursting into flames around them, like she had been. Who allowed themselves other female companions, when Emma was afraid to, despite the occasional kindness offered to her. Of all the girls she'd met since her arrival, this one perhaps seemed the most honest and sincere, their connection the most natural. Selfishly, she wanted to keep a potential friendship within grasp. "The more the merrier, mommy," the always affable, eager and precocious Lucas counters his mother, before taking hold of the stranger's hand in addition to Emma's, and using it to swing himself as the trio began to walk towards the cafe. Emma's dainty fingers run across the metal knob of the hospital restaurant entrance, but they tense as her line of sight freezes in its path through the door window. "Fuck," she discreetly murmurs, advancing to turn the knob open and pull the door toward her and her company. Slowly she'd float into the soft candle lighting, which traces her golden hair like a halo... as it did his: August Keller. His patent pensive sadness envelopes the small crowd whilst he strummed heavenly notes against his acoustic guitar. He hadn't spotted her as of yet, nor had they crossed paths since their fling, but the build up to the climactic moment where they would lock eyes from across the room—just as what occured their fleeting but fantastic night of lust—created tension. She may have held no romantic feelings toward him, but there was still an unfamiliar semblance of regret and remorse from using someone like him. Those feelings, however, would give way to more; if there was one thing she couldn't help but fall in love with, it was his sweet, sensual musical melodies. He was a special talent, not just underneath the cotton sheets. As Aurora remains entirely distracted by Emma's adorable cub, Emma herself takes a seat at a table in the back corner with them, paying short attention to make sure Lucas was secure, then returning to be transfixed by August's performance. Finally, he notices her... “The more the fucking merrier," she mutters again. MONTY @ris
  5. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    CONFESSIONAL:  
  6. Rain King

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } Why don't you invite me in? At first amused and charmed by Ira's playful Irish accent, the quick-witted remark would trot along the straightening flocculent base of Dawson's forehead, as his heavy mind exercises amidst recognition of the challenge laid ahead of him. In his experience, it was he himself his workers often sought out, wanting for protection or guidance. In Dawson, they were seeking something of refuge from a life where they'd been left lost or adrift alone. In other instances, it was something they wanted access to, be it wealth or power or simply an enemy, to quell their own bloodlust for vengeance. He was a leader in a way he'd yet to achieve in a regular political sense; a leader which would make his former Vice President father proud, if not for the dastardly endeavors being done. Despite his young age, some even looked to him as a father figure. That he was, at just 33 years of age: a godfather. "They are, aren't they," a snickering Dawson agrees with Ira, his glacial, intimidating gaze growing in intensity and curiosity. "Although I don't particularly require that kinda stage act, as I fancy myself as a masterful puppeteer already. For example," he'd whisper, his voice low in volume and scratching against his tight throat like ground glass, "one of those detectives is actually a trusted ally of mine and told me I might wanna stop by, as you could be quite valuable within my circle. Something about the ability to access confidential information? They also expressed that they'd have all your active charges dropped if you played along. Impressed? Or can you do me one better, Mr. Puppetmaster. That's what they call you, correct?" It was a game of chess, evidently. But as Dawson's reputation surely preceded him—as did the one belonging to Ira, to a lesser extent—his current pursuit had to know that the man opposite him was the king on the board, while at the moment he only played pawn. And any refusal of the offer might result in the other pieces—rooks, knights, and bishops—raining down on him. MONTY @Palpatine
  7. My EXACT thoughts, quarantine leaving him nothing to do but to eat and work out. He about to serve sequel body in the original  
  8. "Venom 2" Gets Name and Release Date

      the tacky ass computer game font for the subtitle  
  9. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    This didn't age well, huh!
  10. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    @Leigh CONFESSIONAL:  
  11. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    jvxclkvxclkvlkxcvlkjxc
  12. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    And there you go, backstabbing @Katy like the treacherous whore you are...
  13. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    @Jake, me and @Angelic after shaking the table.
  14. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    I feel like in @Leigh's case it was jealousy and a form of sabotage since he has a history of doing that toward me! But I feel like it only served to set up my verse and gave me more spotlight, so I'm not mad at it.
  15. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    The girls can't take brutal honesty! Not cut like us.
  16. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    Yes AND executioner. Ask @Dante. about it!
  17. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    You're a two faced bitch is what that was!
  18. HB Drag Race - Untucked

    Comes inside from a smoke break with @Jake So the challenge was really strong tonight. I don't envy Ru-nbow Heart at all. With that said, someone's gotta go, so who do y'all think it'll be? I'll say... I think @Twisted Bliss was the weakest of a strong bunch mainly because I expected a bit more creativity with such a small but interesting part! Also because I hate him, I think @Leigh rushing last minute should be taken into account! I also feel like, @Jeigz, that I was better than you especially considering you brought the same wrestling related tricks you brought to the last performance number. It's starting to feel same-y!  
  19. HB Drag Race

      [SHOVES @Jeigz OUT OF MY CENTRE STAGE SPOTLIGHT] My sister, @Katy and I, had this Survivor alliance. And my other ally, @Leigh, agreed to cooperate with us. Now, for the last blind side in our act, we planned @Ari M.’s elim while I was fucking him on the down-low --- suck, slurp, spit, slap, ass, cock, splits, spread eagles, back flips, flip flops, one right after the other! Well, this one night we were at tribal, the three of us, sittin' up in the jungle ready to put the plan in action and having a few kiis. But Ari won immunity, so I suggested we target @Angelic. I come back from voting, sit by the fire… There's Katy and Leigh basically doing what Ari did so well… fucking me over!   [DRAMATIC MUSIC PAUSE AS I GIVE FACE]   Well, I was in such a state of shock by their blindside elimination of me, I completely blacked out. I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, I even knew those bumpkins were dead!
  20. HB Drag Race

    Hehe. Git her, Jake!
  21. HB Drag Race

    CONFESSIONAL:  
  22. I'm not gonna lie, an October release date for Batman would be cool as fuck given the Long Halloween inspiration. I hope it's not pushed back any further, I already can't wait  
  23. 3AM [M]

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } She only sleeps when it's raining... While the length of Julian's erection bucks against the deepest end of Emma's gullet—turning her pooling mouth into salt water—the room's structure continues to wash away, offering view to Greek columns made of stone, and marble fountains filled with flames. In the center of what appeared to be an ancient temple was a stone platform, surrounded by a body of black colored liquid; a perfect stage for the siren's astounding performance. The site's beauty was ethereal; rather otherworldly. The air was as cool and piercing, as it were soft and comforting. And surrounding them was no other sound but the ones echoing from her deed. Further now, Emma's lover would barrel his cock into her—fitting to the air passageway as though it had been carefully modeled around him—until she was forced to take pause for air. She rests the slick, pulsating tip on her pouty lips, then pridefully kisses it to show Julian her affection toward his anatomy and he himself. Then, she would lean her head to the right to suction along the shaft, from the top ridge to bottom where his fruit hanged. She continues to feed on his whole erection, clenching her eyes as she tastes every cell of his sweet skin. And suddenly, upon re-opening her eyes to the light, the setting seemingly reverts back to the apartment. Intensely, she locks onto Julian's pleasured expression, his eyes tapering and his mouth forming a circle. His staggered breath underscores her vigorous return to supping his early run of sap, her one hand placed at the base of his length, while her other gripped into his trembling groin. Allowing for another spared moment to prevent his early finish, she'd rise to her feet—her unparalleled body positioned between his open thighs—and lead his hand back between her legs where her mound was coated by her own, less viscous syrup. She holds Julian's fingers as he massages through her creviced center, then she allows him to exert his own control whilst she hoists off the sweatshirt burying her perfect physique. She moans out in pleasure, timed to her bountiful breasts falling just above his face. Her quivering hands take to both sides of his head, holding him forward as her firm nipple marks into his forehead.  "Make love to me, Julian," exhales Emma to her first love. "Show me you missed me too." MONTY @Fusrodah
  24. Bent

    .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 8px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } Can you help me, I'm bent. I'm so scared that I'll never get put back together Dawson's fingernails puncture through the palm of his hand as he balls his fist. Then, in an instance of pitch blackness smothering his consciousness, he draws his arm back and forcefully heaves it toward the bottom lip belonging to the youngest Clarke. "FUCK!" he'd afterward scream out in excruciating pain, before placing the palm of his free hand over his tender knuckles. With the brothers' exchanged words, turned a single blow, Dawson's sadness and sorrow become unrelenting, his frigid, stoic demeanor greatly challenged by his true emotion. Sparing warning, the withheld tears succumb to the heavy weight of their anchors, dragging out his bottom eyelid, across his sharp cheekbone and to the base of his chin. Like icicles, they hang, until drop by drop, they melt into puddles by his feet. "I'm so sorry," he bawls, the phrase—with each meant syllable—fragmented by his shortened breath. His intense aggression had splintered to rubble, as did the remnants of his sober mind.  "I'm so, so sorry for everything I've done. For not being good enough, to both her and especially to you. I've done... I've done all I've could, but I've failed both of you. And for that I'm deeply, truly sorry, no matter what that means to you. But with her gone, I don't know what will become of me if I lost my brother too. This family has always been what's made me feel human and not just some soulless false idol or God. If there's any way I can help us make amends, just tell me and I promise I'll do everything in my power. Anything. I'm just so fucking sorry, Ethan. Please, just forgive me. Please." MONTY @Charlie