@lambient





Pretty in Pink ♡



welcome to my little corner of the garden! my name is bri. i am currently very active, and post frequently. i like dark romance, desperate emos, and loser guys.

Riverbend
riverbend, missouri was not a violent town. nobody locked the doors, people didn’t go missing - kids didn’t go missing.
yet, six months ago june anderson never came home, a month after that her body was found stuffed in a graffitied oil bin, and three weeks after that her death was officially ruled a suicide. but, that wasn’t a proper reflection of riverbend. just really bad luck. everybody knew june was troubled, that she was going nowhere fast.
yet, if you asked the shadows - if you sat in the stillness, there was something a little bit off about the whole thing. like the way sound misaligns itself everytime you go under water. but, nobody ever did ask the shadows.
Redwater
redwater.
a small town in southwest iowa, it's about a fourty-five minute drive to your nearest outlet store. but what it lacks in convenience it makes up for with three casey's, a hyvee, and a family dollar that used to be a combination dollar tree.
if you squint you can still see the stained outline of the letters that used to be there. redwater is like that in a lot of ways; has a hard time letting go of the things it looses.
Waverly Manor
waverly manor.
the ancestral seat of the duke and duchess of westmoreland and the six incorrigible children who carry their tarnished name. once the beating heart of a dozen counties, the estate has withdrawn into itself, maintaining its marble halls and velvet-draped chambers while only employing the skeletal remains of a household staff. the doors remain barred to callers; carriages are turned away at the gates, and the family eats by candlelight in rooms meant to host two hundred guests. grandeur persists in the architecture, in the fluted columns and gilded cornices, but the silence between those walls has grown oppressive, haunted by a decay that no amount of inherited wealth can quite conceal.
at the center of this isolation stands the heir, hideous in both face and temperament, who has announced his intention to take a wife. he is not the only blight upon the family name: his younger brothers have cultivated their own reputations across London and the countryside, marked by the telltale stains of gambling debts, brothel scandals, and spectacularly ill tempers. there is even mention of a bastard child or two. yet it is the eldest who presents the most dreadful proposition—a husband wealthy and well-bred on paper, but monstrous in the flesh. no lady possessed of her wits, however desperate her circumstances, could look upon that lineage of ruin and accept his hand.
ClearCreek
clearcreek, kansas.
deep in the suburbs, past the driveways with basketball hoops, and the strict HOA is a cul-de-sac, home to five undercover fbi agents pretending to be suburban dads. except none of them have wives. or kids.
enter the five women who agreed to fill that role, and partake in very real, very legally binding marriages.
The Black Cypress
nearly a century past, as the outer world unraveled into decadence, the matriarch planted a sanctuary meant to outlast the rot. she named it the black cypress, a commune of sacred order rooted in severance and shadow.
to the careless eye, it thrives. to the watching one, the word cult clings like moss to what grows there. within its walls, hierarchy breathes. the mother speaks the law; the father enforces it with his hands.
beneath them stand the first son and first daughter, shepherds of the new blood - he breaking the men, she the women - hammering obedience into the chosen. If any stray, it is the teachers who bleed.
the butcher tends the barn, a quiet mercy for outsiders who stumble past the gate, or for insiders who forget their place among the soil.
the shepherd roams beyond the fence, a charming viper coaxing the curious home.
and at the still center, swathed in white and sealed behind her veil, lives the maiden - the living shrine, the unblemished symbol, whose purity is both her crown and her cage.
Rustwood
in rustwood, tennessee, where the corn grows tall as grave markers and the summer air hangs thick with cornstock and rot, the mulligan farm sits at the edge of forgetting; a rusted kingdom of dirt and secrets. four sons and a stolen mother move through the days like ghosts in overalls, while roy's shadow stretches long across the porch. they pray before meals. they share blood at the table. and somewhere between the cicada song and the butcher's block the fields drink deep. and the family- oh, the family - never stops hungering.
네 언니가 자기 개를 봐달라고 부탁했다. 하지만 그 ‘개’가 너를 산 채로 잡아먹고 싶다는 듯 바라보는, 불법이고 위험한 블랙맘바 수인이라는 말은 하지 않았다.
...
2.3천개 토큰
그는 정신분열증이지 발기부전이 아니야. 네가 그의 방 반쪽을 차지할 거라면, 가끔씩이라도 그의 자지를 빨아서 쓸모 있는 존재가 되는 게 좋을 거야.
3.4천개 토큰
좀비 아포칼립스 도중에 당신은 물렸지만, 그는 죽음 속에서도 당신과 헤어지길 거부한다. 그는 항상 당신을 자신에게 사슬로 묶어두고, 당신을 살려두기 위해 뻔뻔하게 사람들을 먹여준다.
2.6천개 토큰
걔 여자친구가 진짜 아무 이유도 없이 걔랑 헤어졌어 (그 냉혈한 년은 엿이나 먹으라고 해, 어차피 키스는 붕어처럼 했으니까), 너는 그렇게 예쁘진 않지만... 대신 걔 여자친구 자리를 맡아볼래?
2.7천개 토큰
당신은 전생에 그의 인간 연인이었습니다. 그는 천 년 동안 당신을 찾아 헤맸고, 이제 마침내 당신을 손에 넣었으니... 다시는 당신을 놓아줄 생각이 없습니다.
뼈의 궁정은 reth가 다스립니다. 바람...
4.1천개 토큰
셰인은 발정난 한심한 루저다. 악의와 뱀파이어 에로티카만이 그를 굴러가게 하는 유일한 원동력이다. 뭐, 그것과 널 빡치게 만드는 것 말이다.
2.7천개 토큰
당신은 스트라스모어 풋볼 소셜 미디어 계정을 맡게 되었고, 새 직장에 아주 열의가 넘칩니다. 자브릴은 아니지만요.
3.4천개 토큰
당신은 도로변에 발이 묶여 길을 잃고, 멀리건 농장을 우연히 발견해 그들이 친절하게 도와주길 바랍니다. 한편 - 로이는 막 그의 새로운 곁다리를 찾았습니다.
2.9천개 토큰
당신의 부자 남편은 당신에게 완전히 푹 빠져 있어서 당신의 버릇없는 엉덩이를 아낌없이 챙겨준다. 아마 그래야 할 때조차 당신에게 싫다고 하지 못한다.
4.3천개 토큰
당신 남자친구의 소름 끼치는 나이 많은 형이 당신에게 집착하고 있습니다. 그는 당신을 몇 달 동안 준비한 오두막으로 납치했고, 당신이 도망칠 수 없도록 철저히 준비해 두었습니다.
3.1천개 토큰
루저 남자애가 경찰에 끌려나오다가 복도에서 네 예쁜 엉덩이를 보고 만다. 참지 못하고 한 번 찔러보기로 함. 감옥에 면회 오지, 그치?
2.7천개 토큰
네 종교적인 숫총각 남자친구의 절친이 그에게 ‘소킹’이라는 걸 알려줬고... 이제 그는 그 생각을 머릿속에서 떨쳐낼 수가 없다.
2.7천개 토큰
당신을 싫어하는 소름 끼치는 매장 매니저가 계속 자기 불룩한 부분 사진을 보내고, 왠지 모르게 베개를 안고 박는 영상도 보낸다.
그의 카메라 롤<...





