Slaves get nothing !

@exceptvodka / exceptvodka.tumblr.com

Indie, Selective RP Blog for AHS: Coven's Madison Montgomery, witch and teen movie star. Mun/Muse are 21+, and this blog will contain NSFW & triggering themes. Penned by Suki Est.10/13/13 | Revived 9.8.18 [Construction Pending]

@fionagoode has walked in on something shady.

I’d like to admit that I’m as resilient as I appear. That I’m just as strong as my ancestry has assigned me to be. But the fact is that I have a mother that’s a royal piece of shit, and I’m on the public radar to the point where I can’t even run out as a hungover mess for some Starbucks without being bothered or photographed by paps. Resilient isn’t always in the cards, but I wear a pretty fucking good mask..even if the cracks are showing today. I hear the door open, breaking a cement focus, caught with hands outstretched and lingering over the burning flames that encircle the spell book. My immediate response is to huff, shrink my shoulders, bitch about being intruded on--- but.. it’s her.  I haven’t seen her since..well, since she branded herself Jason Voorhees with that knife. A full, bratty mouth curls up into a sneer. ”Are you the ‘welcome back’ committee? Next time, knock.” I’d like to hex my mother in peace.

@supremegoode​ revived the teen witch nightmare.


I should be grateful, right? But being brought back after neglecting to revive Zoe has suspicion curdling my stomach; feels like I chased some beer with a thick shot of Bailey’s. Worn and covered with dirt, dug up like a bone and serving ‘death warmed over’ couture, I face my new Supreme. I might be stripped of luxury and spirit, but that cold gaze remains heavily set in dollish eyes--- but, you know, rotting beneath a fucking garden for years will do that to you. “The apple didn’t fall far..” That’s not a fucking compliment, either. Her mother slit my throat in cold blood, remember? “How long did you leave me down there?”

Watching that scene at the bar, I was thinking this is how I imagine Jessica and Sarah Paulson hang out in real life.
That’s exactly right! I have had many a night with Ms. Paulson and Ms. Lange and they’re always cracking each other up. The last take when Sarah turns to the bartender and says, “Keep ‘em coming, Mr. Man,” Jessica, off camera, made this hilarious face and it made Sarah burst out laughing and that’s the take I used. They’ve been friends for a long time. They like having scenes together. -Ryan Murphy  (X)
  • “Such a shame.”
  • “I love you.”
  • “Go to bed.”
  • “I missed you.”
  • “Don’t say that.”
  • “You’ll be back.”
  • “Oh my god.”
  • “Oh, shut up!”
  • “No I won’t!”
  • “Beg for mercy.”
  • “Don’t touch that!”
  • “Let’s go home.”
  • “I hate you.”
  • “You did what?”
  • “Just a taste.”
  • “Don’t be ridiculous.”
  • “Are you alright?”
  • “You’re my everything.”
  • “Are you finished?”
  • “Hold your fire!”
  • “You’re a coward.”
  • “No better time.”
  • “It’s a beauty.”
  • “Don’t drink that!”
  • “You’re so stupid!”
  • “Are you crazy?”
  • “Put it down!”
  • “Use your imagination!”
  • “I can’t go.”
  • “I’ll kill you!”
  • “Give it up!”
  • “Watch your step.”
  • “Let me die.”
  • “Want a sip?”
  • “Want a bite?”
  • “I smell something.”
  • “Are you happy?”
  • “Look at that!”
  • “Hold the door!”
  • “God damn it.”
  • “Say no more.”
  • “I’m not mad!”
  • “Is that smoke?”
  • “That’s not fair!”
  • “I’m not crying.”
  • “You did what?!”
  • “I did it!”
  • “Just take it.”
  • “Come on in.”
  • “That’s not good.”

I expected the usual. The impenetrable stink of sweat and beer, for one, but also a trashy house. You know the kind.. Closets decked out with signatures and drawings, via sharpie. Cheap tiles that were bought from a ninety-nine cent store. Stained counter tops. Musty couches. I didn’t know a fucking thing about this Stu person, except that it was a free for all on Saturday night’s at his place. That’s all I need to know. I’d never last in this fucking house on a Saturday night, cooped up with these lame ass witches who wouldn’t know fun if it was served with a chaser and a dildo, but I don’t care enough right now to spill tea on details. Anyway....the house. He’s loaded. No sharpie closets, no twenty year old couches with cat-claw shreds tearing up the seams. There’s marble, there’s lush colors. It smells clean--- beneath the whiff of a whisky spill, of course..but I’m pleasantly surprised. All eyes are on me, and whispers follow the click-clack of  this season’s Moschino on my feet, with Zoe trailing behind and giving self-conscious tugs to the hem of the skirt I loaned her for the night. Some doofus offers to lead me towards the liquor, but when I cross that threshold with him into the kitchen, it’s all eyes on Andre the Giant. Except, ya know, without the kinda features that scream ‘missing chromosomes!’  I found the social alpha in less than five minutes? Funneling beer down some throats? ..that’s gotta be some kind of fucking record. Good. I didn’t wear this black body-con dress for nothing.  Do I hear the doofus scoffing behind me? Oh please, you never stood a CHANCE! I stare up at Andre, dollish eyes bright and holding their usual strength. “Don’t you want a turn?” On the funnel, of course..I even gesture towards it..but who am I kidding? I love a good double-entendre. Smirk. @knifewields