isolated town

Guide: Naming a Town or City

There are many things to keep in mind when naming the town or city in your novel:

1) Genre/Theme/Tone

It’s very important to consider the genre and theme of your story when choosing a town name. Take these names for example, each of which indicates the genre or theme of the story:

King’s Landing (sounds fantastical)
Cloud City (sounds futuristic)
Silent Hill (sounds scary)
Sweet Valley (sounds happy and upbeat)
Bikini Bottom (sounds funny)
Radiator Springs (sounds car-related)
Halloween Town (sounds Halloween-related)
Storybrooke (sounds fairytale-related)

2) Time/Place

It’s also important to consider the time and place where your story takes place. For example, you wouldn’t use “Vista Gulch” as a name for a town in Victorian England. You probably wouldn’t use it for a town in modern day North Carolina, either. Vista is a Spanish word and would normally be found in places where Spanish names are common, like Spain, Central and South America, the southwest United States (including southern California), Cuba, Puerto Rico, Dominican Republic, and Florida.

3) Size/Settlement Type

An isolated town of 300 people probably won’t be Valley City, but a sprawling metropolis of 30 million could be called Windyville, because it could have started out as a small town and grew into a large city.

4) Geography

Words like gulch, butte,and bayou tend to be regional terms. You probably wouldn’t find Berle’s Bayou in Idaho, or Windy Butte in Rhode Island.

Words like mount, cape, and valley are dependent upon terrain. Most of the time, you won’t have a town named “mount” something unless there are hills or mountains nearby. You wouldn’t use “cape” unless the town was on a cape, which requires a large body of water.

5) History

Is there a historical person or event that your town might be named after? The Simpsons’ hometown of Springfield is ironically named after its founder, Jebediah Springfield. Chattanooga, Tennessee is named after the Cherokee town that was there first. Nargothrond, in The Lord of the Rings, is an Elvish town with an Elvish name.

6) Combination of Words

  • person name + geographical term = Smithfield, Smith Creek
  • group name + geographical term = Pioneer Valley, Settlers’ Ridge
  • descriptive word + geographical term = Mystic Falls, Smoky Hill
  • person name + settlement type = Smithton, Claraville
  • landmark + settlement type = Bridgton, Beaconville


Word Lists:

Types of Settlements

Geographical Features

Place Words

Common Suffixes

Other Descriptors

Try a combination of two words from any of these lists. :)

shit i just want to go to like……. an isolated little town on the coast of like england where the waves crash against the cliffs and send up a spray and it’s always a little rainy and dreary and the green is so green with dew and life and the houses are small and cozy and always smell like baked bread and tea and it’s perpetually foggy outside and i can wear sweaters forever and read a book by the fireplace or out in the garden and it sort of just smells ancient and where everyone just minds their own business and life is good and once in a while i bike to the nearest village with a market and spend the day shopping around and maybe i’ll have a dog who likes to follow me around and we just….. live

New Beginnings (Chris Evans x Reader)

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 4,762

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Feels, Chris Being a Dork, Dodger Being Adorable, Talk of Death

Ratings: PG-13

Summary: After your grandparents pass away, you find out they leave everything to you, including a large sum of money.  Deciding to take the advice of your grandparents, you live your life to the fullest; which means moving to Boston and bump into Chris Evans.  

A/N: Let me know if you guys enjoy this!  Maybe there will be a few more parts if enough people request!

The warm sun felt toasty on your face, as you wrapped your cardigan tightly around you; the brisk crisp fall air of Boston giving you slight chills.  You were sat at a bench, overlooking the beautiful serene water of Boston Public Garden.  It was your favorite place to visit as a child, and because of that, you knew you had to move here.  

Growing up in a small farm town in Iowa had been wonderful; at least in your eyes.  Most people hated it, and others would probably dread having to live in such an isolated, nothing to do, small hick town.  But you were an imaginative, adventurous child; always reading books and imagining you were in the main characters place.  You were also a romantic and it was easy to be one in a small town.  The boys were raised right by their parents; true gentlemen, which was hard to find nowadays.

Keep reading

OTP Idea #773

Imagine Person A is a researcher, particularly interested in the study of whatever you may choose (ex. Evolution of birds, geography/cartography, etc.) Their research brings them to a small, isolated town full of odd and secretive people. Person A then meets Person B, the only person who seems to be ‘normal’ within the town. That is, until they learn more about Person B and the town itself.

The Edge

When I was growing up, I always thought life was like a video game. I did everything I could to keep up the illusion: doing homework was like completing a quest, talking with friends was like navigating branching dialogue trees with NPCs, and making it to the podium at graduation was like killing the final boss.

I kept these fantasies to myself and didn’t think much of them until little details started standing out. Sometimes I’d be walking along a trail in the woods and my eyes would gravitate towards a tree that looked just a bit blurrier than the others. Other times I’d be talking with my parents and the conversation would seem off, as if their responses were just vague enough to make sense if I had said something else.

“Mrs. Bainbridge gave us way too much work tonight!” I’d argue. “Homework is important, son,” Dad would say. “There’s no way I can finish this project on top of baseball practice!” I’d yell. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Dad would say.

I grew skeptical. I started testing the universe to make sure it was real. One by one, the pieces of the puzzle that I thought I had solved became detached. One afternoon, I punched my best friend Aidan straight in the teeth. His face recoiled a bit, but then snapped back into place, his big smile unfazed.

“Want to play Smash later?” Aidan said immediately after, grinning from ear to ear.

The next day, I tried to get my parents to say my name.

“Come down for dinner, honey!” Mom called. “How was your day, sport?” Dad asked. “Elbows off the table, dear,” Mom said.

This went on for the rest of the night. I couldn’t remember the last time my parents ever said my name.

Looking back on it, I should have just accepted it. It wasn’t hard to live my life as the game intended. I could have been happy if I had drowned out all the red flags. It’s too late for that now.

Yesterday, or at least I think it was yesterday, I decided to push the game to its limits. Right before school I stole my mom’s keys, got in her truck, and drove. It didn’t matter where I was going, so long as it was somewhere new.

Eventually, the road got less familiar. I was entering the wilderness. In a half-hour, I had reached the city limits, beyond the thick canopy of trees that isolated our town from the outside world.

Except…there was nothing. The road ended there. The land just stopped. Everything was blue. Up, down, and out into the endless expanse. It was all blue.

I stood there on the precipice, wondering what my life had been up until that moment. I wondered what it could be. I took my first step into the blue unknown. I started to fall.

In those final seconds, the scariest thing I could imagine was living a life that someone else had chosen for me.

But now?

I’m still falling.

It’s You

Originally posted by uchihaclan27

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Request:Hey doll❤ Would you do an imagine for me with Bucky where you were his wife back in the 40s but after he was taken by Hydra, you also end up there but he didn’t know. So after he joined the Avengers he still thinks you’re dead but then they get the Mission to save someone out of an Hydra Base, and it’s you. Buck fears you wont recognize him after they took you to the compound but after you woke up and see him you remember everything and then it’s all fluffy and cute and he helps you adjust ? :)

Word Count: 2510


She was in front of the little wooden stove of the apartment she owned with her husband. He was out with Steve doing god knows what; she knew this was going to be their final dinner before Bucky goes out and into the war. She didn’t like it but accepted her husband’s wishes, Y/n knew he would be able to take care of himself out there but what worried her most was Steve. He wanted to go too, never stopping to try and get cleared to go to war but they weren’t having it. They wanted all men to go and fight but not the ones who were scrawny like Steve, she knew he could do it; his will for helping others was something that she had yet to see in anyone else.

An hour passed before the two men arrived home, all three instantly digging into their food, chatting and laughing away, completely ignoring the fact that he would soon be gone by tomorrow morning. Steve was going to stay the night so he could instantly be there for when his best friend left for the war and for you when you’ll need his comfort. You didn’t think it would take a great toll on you but it did, it had felt like your heart was being ripped out when you had watched him wave towards you as the train went.

It was even worse when you had learned Steve had soon joined too. It was now just you in your little apartment with no one there, the silence slowly ate you away. Missing all the banter, the jokes and laughter that your two boys always made but after two years of them being gone; everything had changed.

Keep reading

Isolated Small Towns Gothic

Isolated small towns:

You know everyone, and everyone knows you, yet you’ve never met anyone who lives on your street.

The town is surrounded by forest. Never ending forest. There are times you wonder if there is anything other than forest.

You read on Facebook that bears have come into the town. You never see any bears, and no one mentions why they have come into town.

From the time you start school you are taught how to protect yourself from the bears. No one ever mentions what else lies out there.

You watch and envy the people that come in and leave the town before the year is up, they are lucky.

You walk by empty houses with ‘for sale’ signs everyday, and there always seems to be more and more. No one seems to notice.

You’ve been to the next town over, you’re sure of it. It might just be a dream though.

You watch the clock tick by, watching as the hours go by. You repeat it the next day, and the next. Nothing ever seems to change.

There are so many empty spaces to build houses or stores. They would all work so well, in great locations and in the best parts of town. No one ever builds there. You wonder why.

You wonder if you’ll ever get out.

Is there anything else out there? It must just be an illusion.

| The Coven - Jongdae X Reader AU Series - Prologue |

Collaborative Series with @exosmutxoxo & @nunchiwrites

Vampire!Kim Jongdae X Reader

Genre: Action, thriller, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut

Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of abuse and sexual abuse, (future) smut

Word Count: 1,150

Allow me to set the mood…



You were barely breathing- a lifeless shell of a human being, left to stain the stone floors with your blood and tears. 


Wrists and ankles bound. Gagged. Blindfolded. 


The only sense you were spared amidst the murky darkness of the cellar was your hearing. Your ears were met with the soft, all-too-familiar rasps and muffled cries that came from your fellow female captives. None of the others were bound like you were, however. You knew that they wanted to comfort you, to free the itchy bindings from your raw skin. But you were painfully familiar with the consequences they would face if any one of them interfered. You knew how this was going to work, just as it did at any of the town’s other whorehouses.

Keep reading

Imagine; the Baker family before finding Evelyn and Mia, before their property regressed, before the mold took hold.



Jack Baker, father of two, driving into town on a weekly basis; helping the homeless and disenfranchised people the best he can. Sometimes, he offers them a dinner and a bed for the night - bringing them the home where Marguerite is happy to make a semi-special dinner in front of their guest - scolding Jack in the next room. “Stop bringing home guests, Jack.”

“They needed help, Marguerite.”

And the visitor stays the night; they stay in a guest room. They never see Zoe - she rather sleep in her trailer - and Lucas Baker never seems to be around. Jack and Marguerite like having guests, they planned to someday rent out their home as a Bed & Breakfast - that’s why they bought the house on the edge of the bayou.

In the morning, the visitor sees the half-deconstructed yard, with chopped log and stumps scattered around the front yard. Work tools left off to the side, it’s still a big work-in-progress. Stuff here and there, but the passion is there, and only in certain light does it look a bit creepy.

The visitor leaves in Jack’s truck that morning; Jack’s truck is known locally to give people a ride or a home for a night. People suggest those without a place to stay to look for Jack’s truck.

And after going out Jack returns home, resuming his work on fixing up the property. Marguerite helps too, so does Zoe. The three of them ask Lucas to help out when he’s not locked up with his next project. He doesn’t know what to do, but he tries to do his best. They have their laughs, they have leftovers for dinner, and go to bed.

That’s how the days go for the Bakers.

Jack and Marguerite work on their dream Bed & Breakfast business. Zoe and Lucas are working up to their own ambitions. They’re isolated from the nearby town - not many people come visit them. Cut off from the rest of the world except for a lone road and the nearby river.

One night, there’s a series of thumps. They sleep through it, except for Lucas - working on another one of his projects late into the night. He brings it up the next morning, Jack plans to drive out down the river later that day.

After trying to dig out a stump for most of the day, he goes out on a boat.

And he finds the wreck of the tanker; horrified but what he finds, still clinging to some hope there is someone alive. He continues to search with the light on his boat, searching the dark waters with a plastic PVC pipe - finding odd growths here and there on the rubble. He finds a young woman and a conscious child on a pile of wreckage and - as he’s always done - takes them home. Give them a bed and a meal.

Jack and Marguerite ask the young girl, Evelyn, if she knows what happens. She claims no, and she’s afraid of losing her mommy too. There’s tears, Jack and Marguerite try to cheer her up; reassuring Evelyn her mommy could just be fine - she just might be out for a couple days.

Evelyn is happy; she has a family.

Then Jack wants to go into town for supplies; tools and food to fill the fridge. Evelyn tags along; strangely, she doesn’t want to bring up the tanker, nor is she keen on looking to have Jack tell anyone about it. And when they get back Marguerite tells Jack that … Evelyn never left.

She’s been in her mother’s room for the entire time.

Slowly, things start getting weirder. Marguerite starts finding grey mold in the cracks of fresh floorboards. Grazed by nicks here and there from fixing the house just seem to vanish - no welt, no marks. She must’ve imagined them.

At dinner Evelyn doesn’t want to stay at the table; Jack and Marguerite try and get her to stay, but she leaves anyway. Lucas and Zoe are spending less time at the table, in the house. Lucas tells Marguerite on his way to eat leftovers the next morning the little girl creeps him out. Zoe says nothing.

Over time, things just keep getting weirder. Jack finds himself being able to uproot stumps easier, some of his tools are more worn. He shows off the Marguerite - that his strength when he was younger has come back. Marguerite finds more strange mold in the crooks of the house, Jack suggests that he could get some specialized things in town.

And Evelyn is always just … there. By his side, saying nothing. Watching.

He doesn’t talk with other residents anymore, doesn’t invite anyone to his family’s home even if they plead. It just wouldn’t feel right to him. Eventually, he doesn’t show up in town anymore.

Rumors grow that something has gone wrong at the Bakers, but no one goes to check on them - not many people know them well enough to just swing by.

Lucas put up signs for visitors to stay out on the front gates.

Behind the front gates, the family is suffering.

Marguerite’s joy of cooking starts failing her, finding herself more and more often giving out under-cooked food to Jack and occasionally Lucas or Zoe. She starts craving for odd things - the bugs swarming the boat house, a bird that died in a tree above the property. It disturbs her when she has time to think about it. But after being cut off from the outside world … she’s gotten used to it.

Jack has endured intrusive thoughts about taking people he wants to help home to make them a part of the ‘family’. Evelyn keeps trying to persuade him, no matter where he tries to cut himself off, she’s always there, telling him, yelling at him. One night, he digs out the gun he got Marguerite back when he was working. He makes a note for Marguerite, makes sure the gun is loaded, and pulls the trigger.

Marguerite finds him soon after, half stunned and half relieved, Jack tried to commit suicide, and it succeeded … and failed. He’s still alive; he’s distraught, Marguerite is distraught, Evenlyn is distraught … and angry.

Evelyn’s demands get more stringent; and her mother wakes up and becomes her muscle.

youtube

The train scene in Miyazaki’s Spirited Away is one of the most memorable, beautiful, and baffling moments in the film. So what does it mean? What’s going on? What is its purpose?

(I think I fixed the problem youtube was having with the copyright. So yay!)

Transcript below the cut:

Keep reading

Requiem For A Dream

Requiem For A Dream

—————

Author’s Notes

So this was a request. That I write a fic (with plenty of Smut) set during Requiem - the bed scene when Scully comes into Mulder’s motel room, shivering (because she’s TOTES PREGGERS WITH HIS LOVECHILD! OMGZ) and a kind of….what happened the rest of the night story.

This is pretty smutty, even for me. But I try to keep it Canon and Within Character.

Enjoy!

—————

The still of the Oregon night left an encompassing silence on the night, disturbed only by humming of electricity and chirping of crickets. Scully awoke at 1.32am. She lay still with her eyes closed for a few minutes, running the days events through her head. She took a moment to remember the reason why she was still dressed in her day clothes, yet had Mulder’s arms wrapped around her. She noted that she felt much better. “Must be something I ate, or some kind of virus” she noted before fixating her mind on the sensation of Mulder’s body. His warmth and strength was the perfect antidote for comfort and sleep. She would tell herself she didn’t want to waken him, but she did.


Not so discreetly, she shuffled the weight of her body around in his arms to lay on her back, still with his arms around her yet startling him. “Hey” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on her hair. “Are you feeling ok?” he asked, raising his hand to stroke her face. “Yeah, Mulder, I’m fine…I just needed rest, I’m ok” she replied. There was silence in the room once again, a comfortable silence, one they both relished in. The feeling of being present wasn’t always attainable in their lives, but lying there, his arms around her, his face nuzzled in her hair, it was a rare moment to be present.


Moonlight flooded through the trees and past the linen curtains to illuminate the room with such intensity that Scully could appreciate the rustic décor. “I suppose we broke our own rule” Scully teased a smile on her lips, looking up at Mulder. “Yeah, the whole no sharing a room on assignment, but I’m sure the residents of Bellefluer have bigger concerns” Mulder held her a little tighter. “Shall I stay?” Scully asked, feeling a bit clumsy for doing so. “It’s nearly 2am, I’m pretty sure we’re good” Mulder gave a slight laugh.


Despite their grappling defiance for authority and ability to break every rule they could find, they had been surprisingly professional about mixing their new found romantic relationship with work. They both knew they could get away with it, especially in an isolated town like this, but they also liked to set boundaries to keep their sex life out of the office. There had been a handful of incidents in the months since they began sleeping together, but they were limited. Sex in the office, a blow-job in a rental car and on a more illicit occasion, he’d used his hands, underneath a blanket on a near-empty airplane to bring her to complete satisfaction. “That flight attendant definitely was on to us, I’m sure of it, she heard me moan!” Scully had worried the entire remainder of the flight. In general, however they were very professional about parting for their separate rooms each night at the motels each case had landed them in.


The circumstances of the night had allowed them to break the rule. So here they were in the wee hours of the morning, nestled in one another, their skin divided only by clothing and blankets. Scully’s hormones had been a mess for a few weeks now. She’d been emotional earlier in the week which caused a slight rift between them for no more than 24 hours. She’d lost her sex drive for a weekend, followed by four days where she wanted nothing more than sex. Then there was the light-headedness and sickness. Ever so ‘Scully’, always ready with an answer for everything, she could never have counted pregnancy due to it being something she had shut away. Yet, here she lay in Mulder’s embrace, completely unaware that she was pregnant with his child.


The hormones were kicking in again. “Well, if we’re going to break our own rules and share a bed tonight, I suppose we should put it to good use” Scully rolled over to face Mulder, who seemed somewhat surprised. “You weren’t really sick were you? You just used it as a ploy to get into my bed, didn’t you? He jested. She raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s fine, if you don’t want to then I suppose I can head back to my own room…” she teased with a smile, breaking free from his arms and getting out of the bed. He held a loose grip on her, trailing his hand down her arm as she walked from the bed, until he held onto only her hand. “Ahhh, not so fast Scully, I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to bend those rules, since you’re already here”. She knew he wanted it bad.


She got to work fast, removing her slacks, then very slowly, tediously so, she began to undo each button on her crisp white shirt. Mulder lay back, taking in the show with the moonlight bright enough to allow him to take in the finer details. “Oh Scully, you’re killing me over here”. She finally removed the shirt and walked over to the bed, in her matching cream panties and bra. He wasn’t quite sure what had come over her, a few hours ago she was a sick and quivering baby deer, now she was a horny and in-charge temptress. Unsure why the sudden change, he didn’t question it, he just watched tentatively as she crawled onto the bed, on all fours, towards him. “Agent Scully!” he said with a mockingly shocked tone. She sat by his jean-clad legs. “We’re gonna need to loose the clothes for this to work, Mulder”.


She helped him wriggle out of his Levi’s and then pulled his black t-shirt over his head. There was a moment. She sat on her knees, clad in her underwear, as he lay there in his boxers, where their eyes met in perfect unison. It was a look they had been exchanging often. It was filled with the usual trust and respect they felt for one another for so long, but also brimming with a scorching need to express those emotions physically. There was so much love and they were both a little giddy to express it.


Mulder shifted up so that his back was flat against the wooden headboard of the bed. He leaned in and kissed Scully. It was reassuringly gentle at first, as he raised his arms to run his hands through her always impeccably silky hair. As he moved his hands further south he unclasped her bra as it fell between them. Scully picked it up and tossed it aside. Perhaps it was the moonlight or the quiet of the night, but something felt more romantic than usual. Her emotions were a-flutter and unbeknownst to her, the baby in her belly was heightening every sensation. Mulder’s lips tasted sweeter than ever, his tongue massaged hers in a way that she was fixated on every motion. His smell was intoxicating to her. She’d always loved his smell, from whiffs she would get in the office over the years, to nights in his bed or hers, making love with his entire body surrounding her.


She needed more. He was, again, surprised by her urgency. He’d seen Scully in so many ways. Horny Scully was a relatively new version of herself to him, but one that he was eager to indulge. He laid her on her back, leaning over her, supported by one of his arms. He continued to kiss her, more passionately this time as to show he, too, was eager to get the show on the road. He ran his hands over her smooth alabaster skin. Her skin was always so ridiculously soft, it made her feel so fragile – something he knew she was not. She was a warrior, a fighter, the epitome of strength, yet her body was so small and soft. He was always amazed.


After fondling her breasts for what he deemed a suitable amount of time, he reached down into her underwear and cupped her vulva with his hands. In tandem, she pushed her tongue further into his mouth as she pushed her hips off the bed, as he hardened his grip on her. Their mouths somewhat fatigued, they broke apart their kiss but remained engrossed in the luminescent glow of one another’s eyes. Mulder used his hands to tease at Scully’s clit and to sense if she was wet to see how ready she was. She was ready. Very ready, indeed.


“Are you ok?” he asked. At this stage she found it a bit odd that he would ask. He had just slipped two fingers inside her and was well on his way to satisfying her. “Mulder?” she hesitated. Realizing that he was probably considering their earlier conversation, it had been a day and night filled with varying emotions. Or perhaps he was just worried about her not feeling well. Whatever his reason for asking, she realized it was from a place of pure love. Not a lot of guys would be so concerned with their lovers wellbeing when they were in the midst of some intense foreplay with an erection harder than rock.


“I want you inside me, Mulder” she whispered, slightly breathily. He pulled down her panties and then his boxer shorts. Sometimes they liked making love under the blankets, there was something oddly sensual about it, comforting and embracing. Tonight, however, was not one of those nights. Scully was ravenous for sex. He was more than eager to oblige. As he freed himself from his boxers, he rolled onto her and fixated his eyes into hers. She gave him a loving smile and they kissed. His erection rubbed up and down over her inner thighs, the feeling of which drove them both insane. Breaking away from their kiss once more, he looked down and reached down for his cock, using his fingers which were wet from touching her and the pre-cum that had already escaped him to make sure there would be no pain for her. Something she once again noted. The messy technicalities of making love would prove a sign of his care for her.


As he slid inside her he kept his eyes focused on hers. “Does that feel ok?” he asked. She nodded gently. “That feels so good, Mulder….you feel so good”. He inhaled sharply and began to move, gently at first, barely leaving her, her pushed himself in deeper. He watched as she dropped her head back, arching her neck in pleasure. He kissed her neck and her jaw, as he plunged deeper inside her, then out, in and out, in and out. “You’re beautiful” he panted out quietly, which made her thrust her hips a little. One of her hands held onto his back, the other onto his ass. As he sped up each thrust, she became more vocal. Soft moans and gentle cries mixed with her bated breath, turned him on so much. The dead silence of the room was no more. Now the room was filled with sounds. The Oregon night was no longer still. The headboard rattled, their skin collided, he grunted with exertion and she moaned with lust.


“Mulder….Mulder….Mulder…..oh God, Mulder” she repeated his name, over and over, it was a sound of sheer delight to his eager ears. A name she used a hundred times a day, suddenly so sacred when spoken in bed, as they were joined together in every way possible. “Harder, Mulder” and he obliged. “Faster, Mulder, faster” she whispered and he moved as fast as he could. “I’m gonna come Mulder” she barely said, her voice a catch of her breath. Those words always got him. He’d imagined her saying those words for years now, so to hear her say them and watch her as she did, was enough to edge him toward his own peak. Before he could, Scully made good on her word and he felt her muscles around his cock convulse. She let out a cry and dug her fingers into him. He watched, appreciating having a photographic memory, as she rode out the rippling waves of her orgasm, twitching a few more times before letting her body unfurl and relax. “Oh God” was all she said. Her head flat on the pillow, her eyes shut.


As she caught her breath she realized Mulder was being polite again, but was eager to reach his own climax. She re-opened her eyes, focusing on him, his face a mixture of concern and desperation to finish. “Keep going Mulder….keep going” she spoke, a gentle thrust of her hips letting him know it was ok. “You sure?” he asked. He really was on a roll tonight with this demeanor of genuine concern. She didn’t respond, she rolled on top of him. As she did, he pulled out of her, but she gently guided him back inside and began to ride him. This was a killer position for him, watching her from below, her breasts swaying with every motion, the intensity in her face. He knew he wouldn’t last long.


As he was building up again, getting closer once more, Scully’s face contorted in pain. “Ow..” she winced. “Sorry, it’s…I don’t know, I’m just sore….can we….?”. He was concerned, but he was way past the point of no return. He hadn’t much longer left in him, but he was too far into it to stop. So he rolled her over again, onto her back. All the tossing and turning was erotic, but hardly practical. As he’d pulled himself out again he decided to just finish the job himself. He grabbed his cock and tugged on it furiously, his eyes darting around her alabaster skin, looking for a place to spill himself onto. “No…I need you to come inside me, Mulder, come inside me” she demanded. He obliged, re-entering her, all it took was another couple of thrusts and he was collapsing on top of her. He groaned a husky version of her name “Sculllyyy” and with that he had come inside her, as requested.


He rolled off her and they lay on their backs, in the night light glow on a knotty pine motel room, catching their breath. The held hands, entwining fingers, without a word spoken, before shuffling to get under the sheets. She wondered if he knew why she demanded he come inside her. She didn’t have to fool herself. She knew why. She was still clinging to every hope that when he would do so, he’d impregnate her. A foolish dream, she tried to reason with herself, “He has no idea why I did that, no idea”. He rolled over over his side and wrapped his body around her again, much as the same position as they had started tonight, only naked, pressed together and expiring in post-coital bliss.


“I know why you make me do that?” he whispered into her ear. “Do what?” her voice returned to a quiet whisper, far from her cries of rapture moments earlier. “I know you still hope that one of these nights I’ll get you pregnant” he spoke in his most sincere but serious of tones. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was never one to hold back. She knew there was no point in fighting it. She closed her eyes and tried in vain to stop any tears from forming. “I know it seems so crazy” she let a tear glide over her cheek. “Maybe not” he whispered, kissing where the tear had fallen and holding her even tighter. “I want the same thing, Scully, I want it more than you know”.


It comforted her to here him confess his want for the same mircale she still prayed for daily. It wasn’t something they talked about much since her last failed treatment, especially not since sex became an option of, highly unlikely, conception. Here they lay, so in love, expelled of their overbrewing lust for another time, wrapped in cheap motel bed sheets and in one another.

Despite plans for Scully to return to her room, the vulnerability in the air changed everything, they closed their eyes eventually and fell asleep with one another.


Little did they know, that the cause of all these ups and downs, tears, tiredness, rampant sexuality, exasperated hopes and fears, the roller coaster of emotions, were all a by product of hormones. Hormones spurred on by the fetus developing by the millisecond in her belly, where his hand fell tenderly. As they slept in slumbers filled with dreams of a life filled with that very same little unknown miracle.

Creepypasta #1063: I Work As A Private Investigator. Here Are A Few Of My Strangest Cases (Part 1)

Length: Medium

I’ve worked as a private investigator for around five or six years now, running my own business. It’s usually a pretty bad idea to just up and start an independent PI company as your gateway to the job (in fact it’s pretty darn stupid), but I live in a town that’s small enough that I was able to make it work. 

I won’t be specific about where I live, nor will I use any real names. As a PI, people come to me with some pretty personal shit, and it’s universally taboo to just go sharing the specifics with the world. The extent that I’ll admit is that I’m in Canada and that I’m in a small, semi-remote town surrounded by vast boreal forest. Not the kind you’d go exploring or hiking through with friends, but the kind that you would stay away from because (much like the stereotype) there are bears and caribou all over the shop. Trust me, caribou will fuck your day up seriously bad.

So, with that little bit of preamble out of the way, I suppose I’ll start.

I tend to get a lot of cases from paranoid spouses, and most I’ll take, however absurd. I’m in no position to turn down a paying customer, and when they turn out to be correct it always feels good to help them out an unfaithful partner. This case, despite having a reasonably explainable conclusion, was creepy enough to have definitely caused me to think a little more about what to accept and what to decline.

Roughly two years ago I got a cold call from what sounds like an older man. He asked to make sure he’s called the right place, and when I told him he has, he immediately launched into a particularly long-winded rant about how his wife is plotting against him, and how she’s planning to “take him out”. I tried to get him to calm down and asked when he would be able to come over to the office. We could discuss things over a coffee, what he should bring, hash out whether or not this was a legitimate case, and if so, negotiate a fee. He’s adamant that he needed to see me as soon as possible, so he came in a couple of hours later. I don’t have any cases at the time, so I’m all for it. 

He’s an older gentleman in around his late fifties, early sixties, probably, and was visibly shaken when he showed up. We talked for a little while and he’s definitely calmed down by this point, but he’s still obviously frightened. He told me that his wife had been going out to meet with other elderly women for a sort of book-club type deal and that he’s sure that they’re all out for his blood. 

Things got really interesting when he revealed that every morning, at around 4:00 AM, he’s woken up by an abnormally loud sound, like dogs barking and growling frantically. He told me that he would always wake up to see his wife standing in the bedroom doorway, with two other elderly women resembling a few of her friends standing motionless behind her. Making no movements, just, staring.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you rec some good Black Sails feel-good fic maybe?

sure!! since idk what your preferred pairings are, i’ve tried to make sure there’s something in here for most people :D

Terra Pacifica by @jadedbirch (silverflint): a lot of my Nemesis’ fics are very feel-good and wonderful, but this fic in particular deserves so much more love! silver’s a bartender and flint’s a surfer who just can’t stop himself from going back to silver’s bar again and again and whose flirting skills are The Worst™. these two ridiculous people find happiness together, and the sea is the soundtrack of their love, and i’m smiling so hard as i type this!

waste time with a masterpiece by @jamesbarlow (silver/flint/madi/thomas/miranda): listen i KNOW i’ve recced this like a billion times BUT I HAVE TO DO IT AGAIN because this is the ULTIMATE feel-good fic, there is nothing about this fic that won’t make you giddy with happiness. it’s silly and bright and sweet and indulgent and just pure cotton candy. and it’s 21k!!!!! 21k of unabashed joy!!! DO YOURSELF A FAVOUR AND READ THIS.

Things That Grow by @brightbluedot (james/thomas): most of what audrey writes is fluffy goodness, but this fic in particular is sun-soaked and petal-strewn. thomas and james make their home together post-series; there’s a porch and a flower-filled garden and books. you can smell the earth and the roses, and feel the drowsy-sweet glow of the late afternoon. it’s a fic that leaves you utterly relaxed and fulfilled.

Driving towards you by punkdentist (max/anne/eleanor): modern AU where anne and eleanor have to go on a roadtrip together to pick max up from the middle of nowhere; anne is max’s current gf and eleanor is max’s ex and things are awkward at first but then they Bond. IT’S A ROADTRIP FIC, WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT. anne is such a lovable weirdo in this fic and the mood in this fic is so summery and golden 💛

The New World by @e-sebastian (flint/OC): so. this is a bit of a weird one to rec here because it’s a 134k fic written pre-s4 imagining a series ending where flint ends up living in this isolated little town, miserable and alone, and lots of awful things happen and/or are described in this fic, BUT every time i think about this fic my heart swells and i feel so elated. because this fic takes you on such a profound emotional journey and it’s one of those truly affecting fics that gives you hope that even in the darkest places there is light; that even at the end of all things there are always beginnings; that love blooms in the most unexpected places, that it will find you even if you think you would never find it again, even if you believe you never want or deserve to find it again. this fic is devastating in many places but it also makes me feel so good. and that’s what you’re here for, right? :’)

Thrawn - Growing Pains - 2nd Installment

It had taken Thrass a number of days to trace Raw’s tracks and to find records of the ship on which he had been accepted as a junior crew member: the frigate Chiaroscuro, with an itinerary including travel to a number of alien trading centers just beyond Ascendency borders. An art and antiques dealer. How surprising.

After a week on a cruiser he had meant to intersect the Chiaroscuro when it refueled at an Ascendancy trading post, but discovered upon arrival that it had detoured to a different station. He’d lost another week tracking it down again, and now had finally found it, just beyond Chiss space. He was not pleased by how much of his time this had already absorbed. I’m finding him and he’s coming back. That’s how it’s going to be. If he argues, I’ll just sling him over my shoulder and toss him in the storage compartment. He’s not going to have things his way, not this time.

As he’d grown, Raw exhibited increasingly impressive talents. He had been tested and found to possess the highest mental aptitude in his age group, and had discovered endless outlets for his voracious curiosity, love of problem-solving, and creativity – some of those outlets were useful, such as the time he got bored and wound up drawing up a plan for increasing the operating efficiency of their mineral farm. Most of his exploits, however, were distinctly less than useful.

Despite his high aptitude scores, his school record was not as impeccable as it could have been, mostly because of his stubbornness. His self-confidence had become unshakable. His unhesitating correction of professors and text books in front of the class was a constant embarrassment to the educational facility. If he did not feel it was necessary to learn something, there was no force that could make him apply himself.  Once he had even flat-out refused to attend a course. When he had been told this was not an option and was close to being expelled from the facility, he had written an account detailing the reasons for the course being a waste of resources and presented it to the overseer. When that didn’t work, he wrote another, more scathing, account of why that overseer was incompetent and sent it to the regional center for education. At that point, the course was dropped, and his reputation for being a persistent and resourceful contrarian, secured.

The one thing he didn’t seem capable of learning was humility before authority.  If he did not consider someone worthy of respect, he thought of it as a matter of honour not to treat them with respect. He had no sense of delicacy when it came to correcting his elders, disobeying authority figures, or expressing his disagreement or distaste. No matter how many times Thrass had tried to explain principles of diplomacy and compromise, Raw had always quietly persisted in what he seemed to consider some form of integrity. He had an uncanny capacity for reading people, and had learned that it was much easier to manipulate others than try to reason with them - a skill Thrass had always found uniquely unsettling, especially since Raw exhibited no understanding that this could be morally objectionable, even when used to influence friends or family.

Thrass was sure that if Raw’s extraordinary will-power and passion could be transformed into true discipline and commitment, there would be very little he couldn’t accomplish. Unfortunately, his rabid interest in everything under the sun had distracted him from cultivating a single career trajectory, and his childhood in a small, isolated mountain town had instilled in him a restless desire to learn though experience, rather than only through books and data-bases.

It was only a matter of time until something like this happened.

Thrass wove through the bustling streets of the small space station, head bobbing as he searched for the proper bay. There it was, tucked away, a modest, but well-kept little ship. He strode up to the middle aged female Chiss conducting repairs on the aft stabilizer. “Good afternoon. My name is Mitth’ras’Safis. I’m looking for one of your crew members, a young male named Raw. Records indicate he joined your crew on Csilla a few standard weeks ago. Can you tell me where I might find him?”

She straightened and studied him with a tinge of weariness. “Why do you want him?”

“I’m his brother. I’ve come to bring him back home. He has no business being out here.”

Her face hardened. “He signed a six month contract to work for me while we tour the outer trade routes. You think he’s just going to walk away from that?”

Thrass’ expression matched hers steel for steel. “He walked away from a lot more than a contract when he decided to run off galivanting into wild space.”

She drew her head back slightly, silver-shocked hair glinting as cool indignation frosted her stance. “We’re not ‘galivanting’; we run a tight business. He’s done good work so far. Even spotted a forgery some rotter tried selling me at our last stop. The kid’s got an eye for this sort of thing. It’s soon to say, but I was even thinking of asking him to stay on after his contract ran out.”

“I’d like to speak with him.”

“Yeah, but is he going to want to speak to you?”

“I think he will. I’ve lined something up for him back home that I think he’ll be interested in.”

“Well, he’s out now, running an errand. He’ll be back in a bit. You can hang around, if you want.” She looked him up and down, a smile creeping onto her lips as she took stalk of his fashionable - and expensive - clothing. “Maybe I could show you our collection?”

Thrass sighed. He did need some stylish pieces to grace his new flat. Entertaining was a part of the work of social climbing in which he took great pleasure, and his reputation as a man of fine taste was something he cultivated with care. “Alright, I’ll take a look.”

.    .   .


“That price sounds rather steep to me.”

“This is an original piece from Batharr. Originals are quite rare, though the market has been flooded with some very convincing look-alikes that have become popular among the middle-classes.”

“And how do I know that this isn’t just one of those look-alikes?”

A deep, quiet voice came from the direction of the room’s entrance, “One way you can tell is by comparing the color tones with those of one of the actual look-alikes, to your left. The original tones are slightly muted and richer, whereas the other tones are brighter. The natural pigments in the paint are of different constitutions and from difference sources.”

Thrass turned. He didn’t know that voice, and hardly recognized the young man who was its source. The last time he’d seen Raw, his little brother had been, well, little. He’s going to be taller than me. I suppose slinging him over my shoulder and chucking him a storage compartment is no longer an option.

“Greetings, brother. After we left Ascendancy space, I admit, I’d stopped expecting that you would come after me.”

The captain looked from one to the other, then jabbed a figure at Raw “I’ll leave you two alone, but you better remember our contract, kid.”

After she’d left, Thrass crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight to one leg. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Exploring possibilities and learning my capabilities so that I can make an informed decision about my future.”

“Only you could make running away from home sound like prudent step forward. You abandoned your responsibilities, insulted our father, sacrificed entrance into a perfectly acceptable engineering program, not to mention causing me quite a lot of personal inconvenience. How could you act so shamefully?”

“I do not feel shame for what I did.”

“Perhaps you should. The rest of us are certainly ashamed of you.”

Raw remained impassive. “I did not run away. I simply decided that there was no longer any reason to stay at home. I meant no disrespect to father. I tried explaining that to him. I cannot change how he decides to feel about my decision.” He lowered his head slightly. “But I do regret that you have felt it necessary to take time away from your own responsibilities to come find me.”

“And what was so wrong with the engineering program?”

Raw’s eyes brightened with that earnest passion Thrass knew so well. “I want to solve problems, Thrass; that’s what I’ve always been good at and it’s what I like. Engineering problems don’t interest me. I want to see what kind of problems exist out in the rest of the galaxy, and what skills I must develop in order to solve them.”

Thrass snorted, “In my experience, you excel at creating problems more than you do at solving them, as the present circumstance testifies. Whatever your excuses are, they won’t change the fact that you’re coming home with me.”

Raw drew himself up to his full height and squared shoulders that were still narrow. He had always been thin, and the rest of his body mass hadn’t caught up with his vertical growth spurt – a state of affairs that left him with a long, somewhat lanky frame. “I’m staying here. I’ll return home when I’m certain of the path I wish to follow. You may rely upon the path I choose to be one that will bring honor to our family.”

Thrass studied him intensely in silence. “I have another suggestion. I’ve spoken with the head of the Mitth family on your behalf. He has agreed to give you a chance to prove your worth and assume the name of Mitth.”

Raw’s eyes narrowed, “And how would I be proving myself?”

“He said he’d guarantee you acceptance as a trial-born, if you join the Defense Fleet. And, if you show excellence there, you may eventually be granted merit-adoptive status. This is far superior to any other position you could have hoped for, or could be able to achieve on your own. You have talents that would be useful in the Fleet. You’ll get the adventure you want.”

His brother’s gaze drifted as he rubbed the edge of his finger back-and-forth against pursed lips. “The Defense Fleet … following orders, adhering to protocol, only ever going where I’m sent and doing what I’m told, ‘yes sir, no sir, right away sir’,” he smirked slightly, “not exactly what I had in mind as an interesting and dynamic career path.”

I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be easy. “A little discipline might be good for you. If you learn to obey, then one day you will command. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Besides, you can’t seriously be thinking of squandering this opportunity.”

There was a loud noise, like thunder, from somewhere in the distance. Raw frowned and cocked his head.

“What was that?” Thrass asked.

“I don’t know.”

They both flinched as shattering sirens sliced the air all over the space station. There was another rumble of thunder, and this time a tremor ran through the floor of the ship. The captain’s voice sounded over the speakers “To your posts! The station is under attack! Everyone, emergency launch procedure!”

.    .   .

The Seal Lullaby

In small, isolated, tight knit towns, people tend to talk. And in this town, they talk most about the strange couple that live down in the cottage by the sea. They talk about how they just turned up out of the blue one day, they wonder if they’ll ever stop having children, they wonder what it is about them that makes them feel so…odd.


My Selkie AU fic! Thanks so much for all the excitement and support over this, it’s really turning into something I’m proud of and I can’t wait to show you guys it. New chapter every Thursday and comments are really really appreciated. Here it is on Ao3 if that’s more your thing and so many thanks to my phenomenal beta readers @minky-for-short @sassy-laffy @purearcticfire

-

Eliza Schuyler had always been a girl who had one foot in some other world.

She was a ‘daydreamer’. She was always ‘away with the fairies’. She was ‘never quite there’. The ‘lights were on but no one was home’.

There were a lot of ways to say it, most of them dripping with honey sweet condescension that making the obstinately gentle phrases feel a little off, more like thinly disguised insults than anything else. They were muttered to Catherine Schuyler by friends and book club members and distant relatives in just enough of a low voice to make it plain that they didn’t want Eliza to hear but didn’t care that she absolutely could. To make it obvious that they were pointing out a serious flaw but in a delicate way that the girl should really be grateful for.

Eliza was never fooled. She knew exactly what they were saying; that she was strange, weird, an anomaly. That the way she went wandering on long, lonely, meandering walks for hours was unusual. That the way she could sit perfectly still and placid, like some eerily glass like lake, perfectly content inside her own head, made her odd. That the way she devoted herself more to the worlds between the pages of books than the one she physically occupied made her seem disjointed and distant.

Keep reading