#but Christ I am not normal about this book

[aceredshirt13]

P. G. Wodehouse: when Archie Moffam was eleven years old he carried a dog three miles to take care of its sore foot. a woman was holding him at gunpoint and trying to force him to go to jail and make it look like he was cheating on his wife, and rather than take an opportunity to run away from her he stopped to help her dog with rheumatism. a stranger once gave him a piece of sausage in the war and upon meeting him by chance in the street Archie repaid him by rescuing him from homelessness, getting him two different jobs, and indirectly fixing his amnesia and reuniting him with his wife. he risked his own already flimsy position with his father-in-law attempting to help a working-class Italian waiter who barely spoke English and owed him nothing get better pay and hours, and when it didn’t work he helped the waiter and his mother get both money and a modicum of revenge. he adores his wife and calls her the “queen of his soul” and in the scene where he’s being held at gunpoint says he would rather be shot dead than break her heart. all this despite being a clearly-traumatized veteran of the First World War who was an officer for five years and was noted for his courage despite his higher-ups’ hatred of him. despite his family kicking him out of England the moment he was demobilized. despite his father-in-law blaming him for things that aren’t his fault and refusing to accept him no matter how hard he tries. despite this, Archie Moffam is so fundamentally full of love.

some reviewer on Amazon: yeah I couldn’t get into Indiscretions of Archie because he had no likable qualities and his wife shouldn’t love him as much as she does

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[starbuck]

Real Emotional Labor Hours

[mzcain27]

It’s 5 in the morning I should be asleep but I’m trying to decide which editions of stormlight archive to get

[batemanofficial]

hello upper middle class northern usamerican tumblr user. i want to play a game. you will notice that you are in a super america convenience store in rural kentucky - you have three minutes to purchase a snack and drink of your choice and make normal small talk with the cashier. however, if you use the word "cryptid" or generally make reference to appalachia and its inhabitants as "wild", uncivilized, or lacking restraint around alcoholic beverages during your time here, i will personally tie you to the chassis of a four wheeler and tip it into the river. live or die. make your choice

[continuousmeowing]

oh i definitely come off as really. really weird when interacting with people irl. i'm doing so well on this beautiful monday morning 👍

[sentientsky]

i am in your fuckign walls, alex. i’m gnawing on the floorboards. this poem is gonna live in my mind forever; get immortalized, loser. get fuckin cherished

i can't see myself in mirrors.

i see a face i know is mine, eyes as blue as theirs, a family history i will never be able to erase. i see a body i am trying to make my own, years of tear tracks i wish could have left scars, small arms wrapped around a smaller me.

for years, i avoided mirrors all together, desperately trying to escape the ghost of child my mother wanted, but she has been living and dying inside of me since the day i was born. not good enough, it whispers, and it is always midnight in my mind.

my ghosts do not get to rest and neither do i.

i wish i could see myself in mirrors.

my cheekbones, my lips, my hair, my clothes—everything my parents hate about me and more. i see a face i know is mine, but it's not a face, it would shatter if you dropped it. a mask welded to my face. a mask made of porcelain and pain. a mask formed by tiny, shaking hands and pressed against my skin until no one could take it away.

i don't know how to take it off. (i'm scared to see what hides beneath)

i wish i could. (it would crumble to dust. it'd be more me than me)

i don't know if i would. (i'm too scared it won't move.)

[pastlivesxpastlie]

⋆˚₊ show me what you are ⋆˚₊

enemies with benefits vessel x f!reader

summary: you despise your friend of a friend vessel, and he despises you. but you quickly learn you have more in common that you ever thought.

7.4k words

tags, head's up, etc: SMUT, soft sub!vessel, soft domme!reader, lots of antagonizing one another, enemies to lovers, established enemies, casual arrangement, making out, idiots in lust, sexting, masturbation (m + f), praise, dirty talk, pet names (puppy, mommy), cockwarming, cowgirl, pronebone, squirting

a/n: I'm nervous about this one. I've been working on this before I started feeling depressed and I just want it out on the world. Also, in the (paraphrased) words of @rat-that-writes "he could never hate me. I'm too hot."

You’re minding your business at a cafe when he comes in. You lock eyes like you normally do when you happen upon each other. Blank, dead eyes. Face so flat it’s not even a scowl. Sighs. Vessel. A friend of a friend of a roommate of a friend. And a thorn in your side. Ok yes he’s very smart…and witty…and talented…but it doesn’t make him any less arrogant and annoying to be around. You two run in the same circles but that doesn’t mean you hang out. You just exist, for better or for worse, in the same space. No one could understand why you and him didn’t get along. You two weren’t so similar that it was grating, but you also weren’t so different that you were unable to find common ground. But there was something in the way of you two connecting. Of feeling anything other than hate. 

You look back down at your book until you hear the chair across from you scrap across the floor and someone slump into it. 

“I need you.”

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. You look up at Vessel and notice he’s staring at you expectantly. 

“Say something,” he says somewhere between a plea and a demand. 

“What are you talking about…you ‘need’ me?”

He looks down. “Uhm, well, you see…”

“Ves…spit it out.” You’re trying to keep your voice down as more people come into the cafe. Why couldn’t you have had this conversation at the party you both attended the night before? 

“I…fuck. I have…needs and…”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes and crack your neck. “It’s 10 am…”

“No, let me…finish. God. I…have needs and I don’t really…want to look far. To get them met. Do you understand? Uhm…I..”

Is he asking for…?

“Use your words.”

He doubles back a little and licks his lips. Why do his eyes look watery? “Yeah. Yeah I'll use my words. Uhm. I was wondering if you’d be interested in exploring something sort of…loose with me. No strings.”

You laugh out loud from shock. “Is this a sick joke?”

Oh his little heart breaks when you laugh. You can see it. His sweet face drops. “No…no oh my god. I would never joke about this. Look. Hear me out. I…hun I am desperate. I need to just…” he puts his hand to his forehead… “I need the companionship…and the release…but I don’t have it in me to look for a relationship. Not right now and perhaps never.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him vulnerable and quite frankly you could get used to it. There was something about his voice that was different. Calm. Normal. Sincere. But you still feel that pull towards aggression. Instigation. “And someone you actively despise and harrass is your top pick for a fuck buddy?”

“I know we argue a lot!” he barks back. You shift uncomfortably as a couple at a nearby table glare at you both. Vessel clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We don’t get along. And what I’m asking for is a bit much…maybe we just…pretend for a bit? Every once in a while?” He gulps and shakes his head. “I’m genuinely pathetic, I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m being a fucking knob.”

You cross your arms and consider what he’s saying. “So you’re asking to have some kind of…situationship with me…without ever trying to be nice to me first?”

He wipes his hand down his face and groans. “I…fuck it. Yeah I am. I am here groveling and asking you to sleep with me every so often so that maybe I don’t do my own head in. And, also, I just thought maybe…since you’re…pent up and shitty like me. Maybe you’d like to have some fun every once in a while? It would be mutually beneficial. Our mouths would be busy, eyes closed. Maybe we wouldn’t even know it was the other.”

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean? Pent up…” you straighten in your seat. But you knew exactly what he meant. You were high strung a lot, and Vessel made an excellent target for your frustrations. How could two shit stirrers find any kind of solace with each other? But…you didn’t have any other prospects banging down the door (or you). You put your hands up in surrender. “Ok. Ok. I’ll bite. Yeah…fun would be nice…”

“Right…yeah, yeah. Because I get the impression it’s been a minute for you and…”

“Dude, come on!” You interrupt. 

“Look,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you’re a nice girl when you want to be. And maybe if this arrangement is with you…someone I don’t really see often or whatever…” he finally looks you in the eyes.

~

That next Friday you’re in his flat for the first time. You sit on the couch awkwardly as he brings you some water and plops beside you. Ves bites the inside of his cheek. No one has really made any moves but first times are always awkward right? No matter what was going to happen tonight, it would be a first of some sort. The first time you’re nice to each other. The first time you really touch each other. “You look pretty.” He says sheepishly. 

You look down at your baggy band tee and short yoga shorts. “Don’t lie to me.”

“My god just take the compliment. We’re here just trying to have a good time and…”

“Ok ok. Thank you…Ves…that’s sweet of you to say.”

He turns a bit more towards you, searching your face. His eyes trace your body head to toe as he tries to stifle a small smile. This was his idea and yet he still doesn’t want to show you how much he likes looking at you. Being around your pretty self. You suddenly start to feel nervous as he scoots closer to you. He curls his long legs up underneath him and gently touches your arm. You study his fingers like they’re some harmless little bugs before bringing your gaze back up to his face. He’s not ugly. No. You just never think about his looks because he’s so annoying to you. But here you both are, looking at each other in quiet fascination. Your breath hitches.

“Why me, Ves?”

“Why not you?” Vessel rolls his eyes and moves a little closer and puts his hand out tentatively near your thigh. You gulp, pulling his hand to rest on your smooth skin. His hand rubs gentle strokes against you and his breath deepens. “You feel so good. God.”

“Yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks at you so dreamily. You chuckle. The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time since you’ve gotten here. You feel your head spin a little as he looks at you with what you want to call “desire,” but how could you two ever feel anything other than disdain? Vessel clears his throat slightly. “You can back out…before everything changes…”

“Everything’s changed already, Ves.”

His hand moves up your thigh and squeezes, kneading your soft flesh. He hums contently when you move closer, nearly on his lap. You were wrong when you said everything had already changed. It actually changed the moment you two instinctively moved closer. Not a kiss, but a hug. At first it was tense. Like siblings being told to hug it out. But soon the awkwardness wasn’t the most distracting thing. It was how he felt to you. Sure he was lanky and toned, but he had a softness. A gentleness in how his arms pulled you close and enveloped you. It made you feel like the tiniest thing. And you could tell he enjoyed it and wanted to relax. As he loosened up, he held you closer. He breathed you in. You swear you could fall asleep until he drags cheek and nose up your neck…it reminded you of an animal scenting something. Or maybe he wanted your essence on him. He starts to speak in a barely there whisper and then clears his throat.

“May I, please, start kissing you?”

You gulp. The hug alone aroused you, and the thought of kissing him made you feel completely brainless. “Yeah,” you whisper thickly. 

Vessel places small, gentle kisses in the crook of your neck, taking his time and breathing deeply between each peck. His lips are naturally pouty and feel so soft on your skin. He lets his lower lip drag up to your jaw before placing a delicate kiss right by your earlobe. You would say you don’t know what to do with your hands but they move on instinct. One gently squeezes his waist as the other traces lazy patterns on the back of his neck. 

“I love how your nails feel on me,” he whispers. He sounds like a different person. He’s actually lost in you…and you would know because you’re lost in him. You let your hand drift up to his hairline where you begin to scratch his scalp. His head falls back; his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You chuckle softly and move both hands to his hair. Eventually you’re in his lap but you’re hesitantly to really relax. “I’ve got you. Have a seat, love.”

You start to feel nervous and the nasty voice in your head that says you’re not worthy and perfect for this kind of situation gets louder. “Is it because I’m easy? Do you think I’m easy?” You blurt out. So many times you’ve been taken advantage of and it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was one of those times where you were in the right place and desperate. 

Vessel’s eyes open, and he looks at you completely lost. He leans forward and helps you cross your legs around his waist. “You… darling…are one of the most difficult people I’ve ever encountered. It must really mean something if you’re here…in my flat…nestled on my lap. And I’m grateful. Thank you.” He begins kissing your neck again but with more fervor this time. More need. Your back arches as his kisses become wetter and his hands knead your plush thighs and ass. It’s no use. You give in to instinct and gently move his face to yours but you both stop. Your noses touch but the realization starts to set in. As quickly as you came together, you’re pulling apart.

“This isn’t the move, is it?” You ask, getting off his lap and smoothing your hair back.

Vessel inhales and rubs his face, groaning. “No. It was a mistake. Besides, you gave me that look.”

“What look?!”

“Oh don’t play dumb. You know the look. The one where you watch me flounder when you could help me.”

You scoff and stand up. “Wow you’re catching on. That’s how I always look at you.” You start to walk towards the door when you turn back to him. He hasn’t left his seat on the couch and doesn’t seem to care to do so. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling. Arousal, but also annoyance at how quickly the mood changed. Certainly it was Vessel that ruined it, right? You feel that familiar stirring. To project. To rile him up and tear him down. 

He stares back at you. “You’re as pathetic as me. Don’t forget that. You wanted this too. You probably still do.”

Him being both right and cruel about it ignites a white hot rage inside you. You want to scream at him

ask what you did to deserve this from him. To ask him why he makes himself so easy to hate. But instead, you leave. 

...

A week later you’ve kept your weird interaction with Vessel in the back of your head but until then, you couldn’t give two dicks. It was the weekend. And it wasn’t like you to be at a bar like this. Metalheads. The hottest, tiniest goth girlfriends you’d ever seen. You felt out of place but your friends said “noooo we should go! It’s something different to do.” So you put on little black dress and Dr Martens and said “fuck it.” And you were glad you did because a new environment also meant new guys…and to your surprise you actually got some positive attention. 

You found yourself chatting with a guy at the bar as you waited for your drink. He was friendly and handsome enough; you had the ugly thought that maybe he was one of those metalheads who had never actually spoken to a girl, but that was quickly forgotten when you started a thoughtful conversation about a series you both like. And it wasn’t one of those conversations where a nerdy guy dominates and info dumps and corrects you like a jackass. It’s just…enjoyable. He finally starts warming up to you a little and lets his hand graze yours, laughing at your reaction when a sludgier song comes on. You bite your lip and giggle a little, flirting with him saying, “maybe I need someone to help me appreciate metal a little more.” Your hands briefly touch again, and he leans a little closer…letting his free hand lightly touch your waist. You play coy and back up a little. It looks like he’s about to get his phone out before his eyes trail up and behind you. You’re wondering what he’s looking at until you feel a looming presence and a wide hand rub against your back and shoulder.

“There you are, gorgeous. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Your jaw clenches into a tight, fake smile. That accent. You look up at your uninvited guest.

“Hello, Ves. I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

The cute guy you were talking to looks confused and maybe a little sad. Fuck! You facepalm and groan as Vessel waves to him nonchalantly. “Heya…alright, mate?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm. 

Your brain scrambles. “He just means I’d been up here for so long I forgot about the friend group” you say trying to save face. “Not just him. Definitely not.” Vessel squeezes your hip in feigned affection which makes the guy tsk, roll his eyes, and walk away. “Wait, I’m serious,” but he’s already gone. You scoff, ready to pummel Vessel who was easily a head taller than you and more than capable of overpowering you if you tried. You actually liked that guy and thought something was there.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, eyes shooting daggers into Ves. 

He snorts and shrugs. This is no big deal to him. “That guy was a loser.”

“So?! What do you care?”

“Oh come now, babes. You would have annoyed that bastard to death…he could have never kept up with you.” That shit eating grin. God you could just slap it right off of him. You know that he would leave you alone if you just…didn’t respond. Ignored him. But something kept telling you to egg him on. To react.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking away. You make it halfway across the bar when he grabs your arm. 

“HEY! I came over to talk to you. Don’t walk away from me.”

“Wow, and how inviting you seem right now! Sabotaging my night and grabbing me. Is this the only way you can get girls near you?”

His brows knit together and he stands closer to you…so much so you’re looking straight up. “Sabotage? Did you like him that much? If you really, really wanted to go home with him tonight then why are you here with me? Also…” he leans down to whisper, “I didn’t have to do much pulling and prodding to get to you mine last week.”

“What the fuck do you want” you sneer. But you find yourself wanting to stay put. The warmth radiating from his tall form. His cologne. The intensity of his gaze. Your attempt at a makeout session last week suddenly replayed in your head very loudly. You snap back to reality when Vessel huffs with a terse laugh and looks away. 

“I hate to say it but…I wanted to ask you something. Ask you…for something…again.” You search his face for understanding. He can’t even look you in the eye but you can tell he’s humiliated. Tail-between-the-legs humiliated. Little-boy-caught-by-mommy humiliated. The pause is heavy. The ambient noise in the bar fades away when he looks at you. He tries to find words but they aren’t coming. “Fuck. Never…never mind, it's stupid. Have a nice night” He lets go of your arm and storms away. 

You’re left there with your jaw on the floor. Usually this tall arrogant nerd wouldn’t shut up giving you a hard time. Now he’s running away. Without thinking, you follow him outside the bar and call out. 

“Ves, what the hell was that?” You hate to say it but you actually feel concerned. Like you have to finally put down your senseless grudge and actually talk to him. “Are you ok?” 

He looks out down the street. It’s a busy Friday night. Folks bar hopping, getting Ubers, whatever people who like each other do downtown, but it feels like it’s just you two. Your eyes bore into him, and he finally looks down at you. Blankly, but at least he’s looking at you. “I know how we can make the…‘situation’ work. 

“Oh? Other than bothering someone else?”

“Do you know what? This is your problem. You’re mouthy and always antagonizing to try to keep some hold over me…and I want all of it. I need you to keep being that way with me. Please.” His voice has dropped to a gravely murmur as his hands shake in clenched fists at his side. 

You two stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s uncomfortably intimate. You’re having a conversation without speaking and it eats at you. You should not want this. Not again. Not him. “What do you mean?”

He fidgets. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to stand here and ask me for something again without defining any terms? Without playing your part in whatever this sick little thing is?”

“If it’s so sick then why are you blushing? You blushed like that when I kissed your neck in my flat. You’re like me. Come on.”

You cock an eyebrow, realizing slowly what he means. “You like this…don’t you? Being put in your place?”

“You haven’t actually done it yet, but…if you did…we’d all feel better. Even if for a brief moment. An hour. An evening. Just…please,” he takes on that same pleading…groveling tone again. He means it. “I can’t…for lack of a better word and I know it’s stupid but…I can’t ‘show up’ and turn my brain off if we’re…equals or something.. So please…where do I belong? Tell me.”

The idea that this…dummy who antagonizes you wants to submit to you breaks your brain. But wait. 

“How did you even know to ask me about this, hm? Did you ask around…maybe even try to snoop on my socials?” Your voice isn’t harsh, but it isn’t gentle. Strict. Probing. 

The way he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, which suddenly looks biteable, is adorable. He gulps. “I uhm…I’m sorry…but I..”

You bite your lip and chuckle as he shifts from one foot to another. A couple walks past and gives you both a once over, which makes you stand closer to him. If he wants to feel claimed, you can try. Being in his personal space where everyone can see.

“I uhm…I heard you talking not too long ago…about…” he lowers his voice “about subby guys and…well..”

“Wooooow….so… been eavesdropping, eh, bub?”

He opens his mouth and only a little whimper comes out. “I’m so sorry.” He keeps looking down, but you reach up and guide his chin so he looks at you. 

“What a resourceful boy…” you say in a sticky sweet voice. “You were just dying to find something out to the point that you decided to sneak around? Was it fun? Little puppy sniffing around for clues…hm?”

Oh the blush that covers his face. The way his eyes sparkle. You know exactly when he overheard you wax poetic about submissive men to your friends at that party…because you knew he was there. You wanted him to hear…because you had your suspicions too. “Answer my question. Dig up your bones for me…did you have fun with your little secret mission?” 

He breaths shakily and bites his lip. Finally he nods…and gives you a big cheeky grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Eh don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Makes me sound old.”

“Oh sorry sorry uhhh I don’t mean to…”

“Ves…my goodness…it’s ok. You didn’t know.” You chuckle softly and feel like you’re looking at him for the first time. “Don’t be hard on yourself. And that’s my first order for you.” 

His back straightens a little and his pouty lips curl into a shy smile. “I can do that.”

“Good boy.” You can see his pupils dilate…his breath catch…his heart swell. Oh to be your good boy even though you despise him. 

Something inside you has snapped. Suddenly this insane “mutually beneficial” arrangement excites you. Having casual sex with someone you don’t like in the name of “some fun” was ok, but seeing now that he was naturally submissive made your head spin. This you could work with. 

“I will take a crumb. Honestly. Anything you’ll give me…even if this is the last time we talk about it and it falls through again…”

You put your hand up to stop him. “Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winces when the word leaves his mouth. 

You smirk and brush his hair back a bit. Your nails lightly scratching his forehead. He wants to purr. To roll his eyes back and feel your nails all over him. 

“Look at you,” you whisper, letting your nails trail over his cheek. “Such a big baby. Aren’t you?”

“Let me take you home…please. Please…”

“No. Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not tonight.” 

He pouts a little bit but nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

“Mhm…be patient for me. Can you do that?”

He nods and bites his lip. You can tell he’s excited. “When we’re not like…playing or whatever…you don’t have to treat me any differently. It can be our secret. As we were, yeah?”

You take your time with this. You two rarely see each other as it is and like hell you’d mess with him in front of others. So things develop over texting and the occasional late night phone call…but usually texting. Talking on the phone leads to tone policing. Arguments. It’s best to just keep things borderline anonymous. 

Ves: are you too busy for me?

It was 10 pm. You were drinking wine in your underwear watching Scream. Technically, yes, you were busy. But you knew why he was texting and maybe it would be fun to indulge. 

You: I guess not. What do you need?

The response is instant. He was waiting for you.

Ves: nothing really. 

Ves: just wondering about you 

You: what about me?

Ves: what you’re doing. what you’re wearing. if I’ll ever actually get to be your good boy. feels like you want me at arms length all the time. Is that part of the fun for you?

What seemed like a fun flirty conversation has now turned somewhat emotional. You sigh, desperate to get things back on track. As you try to formulate a response, you get…oh.

The video’s thumbnail is dark, but you open it anyways. You hear blankets rustling and music being turned down as it becomes clear what he’s sent you. He’s laying on his back in bed; the blanket is pushed down to right below his belly button. You’ve never seen him shirtless…and now that’s all you want to see. Yeah he works out but he looks soft. Kissable. You can imagine how fun it would be to kiss down his neck to his tummy, telling him how pretty he is…making him feel small and fuckable. He starts talking…you can tell he’s nervous.

“Maybe this is too needy…too pathetic…I don’t know” he strokes his free hand mindlessly up and down his stomach, “but you like this. Maybe you want me to act out. Just tell me…please… Do you want me like this? Desperate…completely stupid…” As his voice trails off, he moves his hand down to his blanket-covered waist and palms…

“Oh shit,” you whisper as the outline of his cock comes into view and he speaks again. 

“I want you to want this…please…can I be needy for you?” The video ends just as he lets out a soft, breathy whimper. 

You compose yourself…or try to…and respond. 

You: look at you. Are you comfy in that big bed?

Again, the response is instant. 

Ves: yeah but I’m lonelllyyyyy. 

You: just pretend it’s me, sweetheart.

Ten minutes pass. Wait. Why are you sad he didn’t respond? Why do you care? Why…*ding ding*

Ves: ok, I did it. did I do good?🥺

Another text. A picture. What. A. Sight.

His hand concealed his now flaccid cock… but fully on show was his cum covered tummy. You choke back a moan and grasp your blankets. At this point you’ve forgotten who you’re texting and quite frankly you don’t care. 

You: such a good boy 🐶 you’re a hot mess, aren’t you? 

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. You don’t hear from him for three days. You keep telling yourself it’s ok and not worth thinking about because you hate each other. It’s just mindless fun. Nothing personal. But then…it dawns on you. You’re technically in charge. 

You: come over  Ves: why? You: why do you think? be here at 8. don’t be a brat  Ves: 🧎‍♂️🐶 see you at 8

Right on the dot, he’s there. You’re hoping this doesn’t end the way it did last time. Necking in his lap before you came to your senses. But the energy is different. He stands close to and studies your face.

“What should I call you? When we’re…you know?”

“What feels natural? Other than ma’am…” you chuckle. Aw. An inside joke. 

He bites his lip and blushes. Why is he doing sweater paws with his hoodie? Such a slut. 

“I can think of one but…” he stammers, “not quite brave enough yet to use it.”

“That’s ok.” Your hands drift up to his chest, where you start to play with drawstrings of his hoodie. “Let me get you some water…do you need a snack before we get started?” 

He considers for a bit but shakes his head. “I can wait until you’re done with me”

You suppress a whimper. He’s in his subspace for you. Get it together. Also, easily entertained much? 

All he said implied was that he’d need sustenance after whatever you do to him because you’ll use him for all he’s worth. Very normal! Not worth whimpering over! “Let me show you my bedroom.” 

You gently pull let the hoodie’s drawstrings bounce as you let go of them. When you step inside your room he chuckles a little.

“Squishmallows eh?”

You give him a playful sneer, although any other time you would have laid into him. “Better get comfy with them if you want to do this.”

He’s already on the bed, shoes kicked off. He grabs one that looks like a shark and holds it to his chest. “Genuinely…your bedroom is really cozy. Thanks for having me over.” He says this as if it was any other conversation, but then he licks his lips a little. “I’m just going to lay here until you need or want me to do something. Is that ok?”

Well. You’re already straddling him before he can finish. “What have you been doing the past three days…hm?”

“I uh…” he stammers and looks up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Working. But…there were some things I didn’t do…”

“Yeah like talk to me.”

“Tsk. Stop. Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I’ve become a complete nympho. Honestly.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “I was going to text you tomorrow anyways. I haven’t touched myself since that night we texted…haven’t…” he shifts under your weight and you feel a slight throb.

“Oh…is three days a long time for you? Hmm?”

He chuckles a little and squeezes the shark. “It’s…” he snorts when he laughs and hides his face. You move his hands and he chuckles a little more. What a beautiful sound. You realize you could recognize it anywhere and be better for it. “Yeah yeah yeah. It's been a long time for me. It’s usually everyday. Twice.”

“You gave up…six orgasms…for me? Of your own free will?”

“I wanted to do eight, gorgeous. I really did. But you texted and…”

“Well who said you were cumming tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes roll back a little. “My mistake.”

“No no no.” You lean down and kiss his forehead. “You did the right thing. Saving yourself up for me.” Your kisses trail down to his jaw. Fuck his soft and smooth. You gently nip at his earlobe and chuckle softly as he whines with pleasure. “You know what you are?”

“Hmm?” He lets out hazily. 

“A good boy. A good puppy. Coming when called. Obeying.” Your nose trails against his and you think for a second that this will be a repeat. You two will snap out of it. But he squirms again and pouts.

“I can be so good…please…”

“I’m not even doing anything to you yet…”

He groans as you slide off him and start palming his crotch. 

“Do you know how many times I got off thinking about that video you sent me?”

His cock bobs against your touch as he groans pathetically. “N-no…no idea. It wasn’t much…” 

You start to stroke him. Oh he’s needed this. His hips buck up into hand as he white knuckles the stuffed shark. Mumbled pleas fall from his pretty lips as you ask him what he’s hiding in his sweats. Your fingers slide under his waistband. His moans are whiny and whimpering. 

“Such a puppy.”

You slide his sweats and underwear slowly…just enough to free his cock. You gasp aloud. “Oh my goodness…Ves…look at you. Look. HEY.” You snap a bit to get his attention. His head is lolling back and you haven’t even touched his uncovered cock yet. “I said to look.”

He looks down and groans again as your manicured hands stroke him. You bite your lip and think about how exquisite it’ll feel inside you. The shark squishmallow is put to the side, and he comes up on his elbows. “Mmm..mm…your hands are so pretty. S’soft. Fuuuuck.” Your strokes are gentle and steady. His hips buck to control the pace but you gently flick his tummy. 

“Good boys don’t take.”

He pouts and settles into your bed. He seems to be enjoying himself. His legs twitching, his moans coming more often than not. But you wanted to play. You wanted his brain off. For now he was yours. You stop stroking. “Ves. Look at me.”

He whimpers when you stop and raises his head. The whimper turns into a strangled sob as the long string of spit from your lips coats the head. Your slow, teasing, wet strokes make his face contort like he’s sobbing. “Fffffff….uuuuCK! M-m-mmmm…mommy please.” You freeze and look up at him. 

“What was that?”

His face is all panic. “Oh my god oh my god no I’m sorry. It just slipped out…I’ll…fuck…no I’m so sorry.”

You lean forward and shut him up with a tender kiss on the lips. You allow his hands to trail over your ass and breasts, letting his touch linger a bit too long over your nipples. When you pull away, he’s blushing like crazy with hazy, dreamy eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper.

“T-thank you…mommy.” 

You slip out of your clothes and relish in his gaze. For the first time you don’t feel like he’s here to be your biggest critic…and you don’t need to mouth off to him. He looks at you with a dopey little grin. “Are you going to use me?”

You chuckle softly as you straddle him again. “You could say that. Make you my little boy toy. Would you like that?”

His whimpering keeps him from answering, probably because you’re teasing the head of his cock with your already wet pussy. “God…please use me. Please…it’s what I’m good for…I’ll make you so happy mommy I promise…please!!”

You blush and forget yourself for a bit when he brings one of his hands to his face. He looks adorable. He needs to be held. He needs kisses. “Give me a hand, puppy. Hold yourself still.”

He reaches down and holds his cock as you slide down. He hisses in pleasure and whines as you moan from the stretch. You grasp his chest as his cock disappears into your pretty pussy, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. Vessel’s breath is coming hard and fast as he touches you. He’s bottomed out inside you and he doesn’t dare move. You haven’t told him to. He needs to be good. The past three days won’t have been worth it if he fucks this up. 

You reach back and pat his thigh. “Bend your legs, puppy.”

“Yeah…yeah ok…” he groans out as he obeys. One hand holds his waist while the other trails under his hoodie. He whimpers and bites his lip as you toy with his nipple. 

“Lift your hoodie.” He lifts it only to expose his stomach but stops there. You tsk and pull it up so his chest is uncovered…mmm. “Look at my pretty boy…” you whisper as you kiss across his chest. You take in the warmth and natural scent of his skin…how he tastes under your little licks across his nipples…the texture of his skin between your teeth. A delicious chain reaction occurs when his cock throbs hard against you after leaving teeth marks on one of his pecs. “You’re being so good. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He looks at you hazily. You’ve only been cockwarming him, and he’s already empty headed. He nods dumbly but then yelps when your pussy clenched around him. 

“Tell me what you thought about that night…when you made the video.”

He gulps and holds you close to his chest. His cock is buried in your tight pussy but he doesn’t dare move.

“I..heh…I thought about being your seat. Your human mattress.”

You kiss and suck on his neck, admiring the red marks already decorating him. “Oh? You like being squished?”

“I thought about something like this. But you’re…you’re fucking me. You lay on my dead weight and then…” his cock throbs inside you and he whimpers.

“Shh I know,” you kiss his temple and nuzzle his face gently. “It feels so fucking good, huh? You like being under me like this?”

“Mhmmm…so safe…mm soft…fuck!” He holds on to you like he did with the shark plushie, his fingers pressing into your flesh desperately. He grits his teeth as he throbs inside you and whines. “Y-y-you’re so…tight. What the fuuuuuck.”

All this time you’ve been covering his face with kisses, grabbing his chin every time he tried to hide from your affection. His heels dig into your bed as he tries to keep himself from squirming and fucking you.

“Can you be still? Hm?”

“Ye…yeah. Yeah sorry…you just…aahhhh fuck…”

“Use your words, Vessy.” 

His eyes roll back and his back arches slightly. “Don’t call me that…makes me feel little…”

“I do have you pinned down…don’t I? You’re the one squirming.”

His eyes are glassy as he pouts. “Are you enjoying this? I…I…don’t feel like you are…”

You consider this for a second. 

“I don’t want to keep going if you’re not…” His eyes are desperate. “You need this too…fuck…please tell me you need this. You want this right? Please I’ll make you feel so good…if you just bounce on it a little. Please please…I’ll be such a good boy. You can lay on me and…and…I’ll just be a toy. I can take it…let me show you.” 

You don’t even realize you’ve started fucking him. Your hips roll gently, and he lets out an almost pained moan. His hips meet yours and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck…puppy…” your head and vision go a bit fuzzy as he bucks into you and…oh dear.

“Shit shit shit…I’m…I’m sorry…I’m cumming…baby…baby…” he bites his lip and looks up for reassurance as his hands mash you down further on his cock. He hates that he came so fast, it’s clear, but fuck it feels good. 

“It’s ok…cum for me…” you whisper. 

He lays back and catches his breath. You don’t move…his spent cock still trembling in your pussy. He whimpers pathetically.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He’s clearly not just coming off his high. 

“Fuck I just….” He closes his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing. We barely did anything and I just…came like a fucking virgin. Go ahead.” He covers his eyes with his arm, “make fun of me. Tell me how pathetic I am.” Wow. He already wants to go back to normal.

“No. I don’t think I will.” 

You’re still on top of him. Cockwarming him. You gently move his arm and look at him softly. His lips twitch. Not to kiss you, but to try and smile. 

“You feel nice on me,” he whispers. “I really like your body. Even…even before we started this. Thought you were pretty.”

You chuckle a little and rest your chin in your hand. “Not sure why.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you know why I hate you?”

You shake your head and let out a little laugh. 

“It’s because you’ve made me realize I don’t have to be miserable. That I could be someone to someone else. But that requires…change. Taking care of my…stupid self. Being better. I can’t have you. You don’t want me as I am. Honestly. I’m a wreck. It’s better for you to hate me and only see me as a plaything.”

His hands trace lazy patterns on your back. How strange it is to have this conversation while he’s inside…but that doesn’t bother you as much as his confession does. 

“Vessel. Jesus. I…Ves…I can’t stand you because you’ve never been nice to me. And now you’re saying it’s because you like me too much, yet not enough to get over yourself?”

He winces and sniffs. “It would be easier, getting over myself, rather than trying to not feel something for you.”

You move his face so he’s looking at you again. “Do you want to leave,” you ask. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want.”

Ves cups your face and tries to steady his breathing. “No. No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and pretend I’m not me for just a little while. Is that ok?” You stare at each other…your breathing syncs…your eyes search other’s face. He strokes your face and purrs softly as his cock begins to stiffen again. Each time it throbs, you whimper, which in turn makes him chuckle softly. His hand slides down to your ass. “I need you. You’re the only one I want to…be with like this.”

“You don’t want this with someone you love.”

His eyes bore through you. He huffs and bites his lip, leaving an indention you swear would break skin. “May I please…may I please fuck you again? Properly. The way you deserve.”

You gasp softly and nod. “Would you like to be on top, puppy?”

His inhale is shuddering and sharp as he nods dumbly. You slide off him and lay beside him on your stomach. Ves seems confused.

“A-a-are you sure? From behind?”

You nod and beckon him closer. He slides off his sweats but you tell him to keep the hoodie on. “How hard are you for me?”

Leaning against you between your legs, he lightly taps his cock on your ass. It’s heavy and feels warm against your curves. He kneads your plush ass and whines a little. “So lucky…I am such..a…lucky…fucking…boy….fuuucckkkk.” He presses into your gushy pussy with a long, pathetic moan. You press against him, and his grip on your hips becomes shaky. “GOD you’re so hot….fuuccckkkkkk.”

You chuckle and moan as he thrusts gently…just trying to create some friction without completely losing his mind. He leans down and you feel the draw strings of his hood tickle your back. You reach behind you.

“What is it?”

“Come here, puppy,” you whisper softly. When he does you’re able to grab the drawstrings…anything to keep him in place. Leash him. Your fingers grip the collar of his hoodie now, and he collapses into you. “You going to be good? Stay right here for me, hm?”

He can’t even speak…he just lets out whimpers and moans that sound like sobs. You can only gasp with each thrust as he blubbers about it feeling “so..so..so..fucking good.” He whines into your shoulder as you pull him closer but the hoodie. “Please…let me…let me touch…please…”

“Mhm…” you let out weakly as he ruts into you. His hand trails down and under you towards your clit. You buck back into him as his nimble fingers find your clit. Cumming on your tummy never came easy, but with an eager lover, you think now it could happen. No matter who’s fingers it was rubbing your puffy clit between his fingers. 

“Mm…baby…baby let me bad. Please I know…i know…i know… I’m good boy but please let me bad…”

You grip your pillow and groan as your pussy quakes around his long cock. He takes this and your slutty, high pitched moan as consent. He takes your wrists in one hand and grips them roughly. You would be concerned about bruises if you weren’t seeing stars from the way his cock’s head rubs against your g-spot. He lets out something like a growl as he fucks you faster and harder. You’re mashed into the bed and cumming for the second time as he grabs you tight and bites your shoulder. You yelp and moan pathetically.

“Ves you’re so bad….you’re so…fucking naughty….” You’re cumming again as you lift your ass like you want him to mount you even deeper. He takes a break just to feel your orgasm squeeze him and to catch his breath. You let go of his hoodie, and he quickly rips it off. A sharp spank lands on your ass…he hisses with pleasure as he watches the skin of your ass cheek pinken before he lands another on you. 

“May…may I roll you over…please” he asks as he pulls out of you and rolls you over. It’s almost adorable how he toes the line between the asshole you know and a precious submissive boy. He spreads your legs, putting one up against his chest as he presses his cock back into you. One hand grasps your tummy and the other holds your ankle for leverage. “You’ve ruined me…” he moans as your name falls from his lips. Over. And over. And…over. He nibbles and kisses your ankle as he presses hard on your squishy lower tummy. His gasps come hard as it’s quite clear he’s reaching his limit.

“Ves…you’re gonna make me…fuck…I’m…”

“That’s it. Please…I want to see it…I need it…you’re so …ffffucking gorgeous….” he grabs you harder and rams into you with a powerful groan, his eyes wild as he exhales and bites his lip. “You’re…you’re going to cum…so….FUCKING hard on me…you won’t be able to cum again without thinking about me…Fffffuuuhhh”

His face contorts as his second orgasm ripples through his entire body. The thrusts become short, hurried bumps against your pussy as your back arches. You begin to rub your clit in rough, hurried circles as he fucks his cum hard into you. His eyes are misty as he mumbles about what a pretty angel you are…how good you’re taking his dick when…oh god…

A few moments later, he’s pulled out of you, looking down at the mess you made. You had never…ever squirted. And this…well…Vessel did that. You had no energy to hate. To be mean. Everything was different now. “I…wow…”

“Ever done that before?”

You lay back and catch your breath, wiping your watering eyes, shaking your head. “No…so…thanks I guess.”

He rubs your thighs and chuckles. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

You smile up at him and chuckle.

“Christ, what?”

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Oh…fuck off..ruined what?” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“My plans to die alone and hate you forever…thanks a lot.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

[livwritesstuff]

Steve is fighting a losing battle.

He’s fighting it regardless – there's something kind of courageous about that, he thinks.

Or maybe it’s just stupid.

Steve doesn’t care, he’s gonna fight it anyway.

The battle involves the stairs – the landing, to be specific, and the way it has become an unofficial final resting place for so much of his daughters' shit.

So much.

He loves his children. He loves them more than anything, actually.

Still, they drive him goddamn insane sometimes. They just – they’re teenagers, right? So they’re spending all their time holed up in their rooms which, fine, sure, whatever, that’s normal enough. But why, then, is their stuff all over Steve’s house?

Steve isn’t the kind of guy who needs the house spotless, or whatever, but he could do without it looking like a tornado-stricken Walmart.

Hair dryers and bottles of nail polish in the living room, Hazel’s makeup all over the kitchen counter, phone chargers and headphones all over the bathroom, and – Jesus Christ – the sweatshirts. Between his three daughters every single surface in his house has a discarded sweatshirt on it, and it’s not like he can do anything about it because he has no goddamn clue which ones belong to which kid and guessing wrong leads to World War-level fighting.

His solution: he’ll just leave all their stuff on the landing so as they head upstairs to barricade themselves in their rooms, they’ll see it and take it up with them.

The problem with his solution: the girls (who he loves so much) just step right over the mess and continue on their way.

“Why the hell am I stepping on fucking hairbrushes going down the stairs?” Eddie asks him one day.

“You wouldn’t be if your children would just bring their shit up to their rooms,” Steve replies drily.

Later, when the girls get home from school, Robbie passes through the kitchen where Steve and Eddie are sitting at the counter.

“Hello, my darling daughter,” Eddie says, “How was your day today?”

“Fine,” she replies, not taking her eyes off her phone as she heads for the stairs just like she always does.

“Robbie,” Steve says, “I left your books on the stairs. Please take them up with you.”

“Uh-huh,” she mumbles, but as she approaches the books it becomes evident that she would be doing no such thing.

“Robbie,” he calls, “Amelia Robin.”

The only response he gets is the sound of her bedroom door closing.

“I’m listing all this shit on eBay – swear to god,” he tells Eddie as he waves a hand loosely in Robbie’s direction in a can you believe this shit kind of gesture.

Eddie replies, “Maybe list her too while you’re at it.”

[katakaluptastrophy]

Instantiating the Trinity and the Second Resurrection.

I have spent way too long wondering what on earth was going on here:

G— on his way with the nuke. The ships on the launchpad, twenty hours to go now, less. So much waiting around. Me in my bedroom with a nun and a migraine, her thinking that if she pushed me enough we’d instantiate the Trinity and we’d all be saved. Everyone else drinking.

What on earth does "instantiate the Trinity" mean? What did the nun think she was doing? What did she think John was?

This happens in John 1:20. What is John 1:20 in the Bible?

And he confessed, and denied not; but confessed, I am not the Christ.

It's where John the Baptist is asked if he is the messiah and says that he is not.

But what other role does John the Baptist play in the Bible? As his name might suggest, he baptises. He baptises lots of people, but specifically, he baptises Jesus.

But before he does that, he's out in the wilderness prophesying the end of the world: he warns people of "the wrath to come" and criticises the corrupt authorities and those hoarding wealth and resources. He gets into some trouble with the authorities. All themes that either have or are about to become very pressing in John 1:20...

And then Jesus comes along to be baptised:

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:9-11)

After all his prophesying and calling people to repentence, John the Baptist does something very specific. And suddenly God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all seen together. The gospel passages describing Jesus' baptism by John are some of the key texts that underpin the Christian theology of the Trinity.

The nun has watched John warn people of the doom to come, criticise those who ignore those warnings and value wealth and power. She has watched him perform miracles. And as the clock ticks closer, she is waiting for his moment.

Just as John the Baptist proclaimed the beginning of Jesus' ministry, his actions tearing the heavens open and revealing the truth of God, does the nun expect some climactic action from John to reveal God at the end of days? The book of Revelation too describes heaven as standing open and the figures of the Trinity in action as the end of the world begins.

The nun thought John was a prophet whose decisive action would herald this opening of heaven, the revelation of God, and the end of the world.

When John says she thought "we'd all be saved", that doesn't mean global warming would be fixed, everything would go back to normal, and John and the gang would get tenure and posters of their faces. It means they would all be Saved. The world would end and they, followers of the prophet of the apocalypse, would be amongst "the blessed and holy who share in the first resurrection. The second death has no power over them, but they will be priests of God and of Christ and will reign with him for a thousand years." (Rev 20:6)

This might be starting to sound familiar. Abigail Pent talks about the horrors of a second death. John describes how he picked a worthy few to resurrect and be his followers...

John, of course, was not a prophet. He did not crack open heaven and instantiate the Trinity. He did not usher in the Kingdom of God. He did fundamentally fuck up the boundaries of metaphysics, declare himself god, and then proceed to badly plagiarise the Book of Revelation.

Because what happens next in the Bible may again sound familiar... After that thousand year reign, the Devil is released from prison. There's a final battle. And then, there's the second resurrection:

The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done. Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death. (Rev 20:13)

Waiting in death, in the sea or in the underworld until a second resurrection and judgement - where have we heard that before?

Magnus coughed in a genteel Fifth House way, and said, “Who wait for our Lord’s touch on the day of a second Resurrection.”

Although Abigail Pent suspects the metaphysical reality is rather different, this is the eschatology of the Houses: the world ended and the righteous dead were raised by god and they and their descendants live in his myriadic reign. And when that reign ends, he will raise the ancient dead who were not included in that first resurrection and those who wait in the River in a second Resurrection.

What happens after that? In the Bible, the world is destroyed and remade:

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. (Rev 20:11)

We don't know what the Houses believe will happen at the second Resurrection. We don't know for sure what John is planning. But in light of Revelation, I do wonder about the poem at the start of NTN:

Let’s put this first-draft dream of mine to bed.

In the appointed hour

I’ll pull up your sheets. I’ll kill the light,

Lie down beside you; die; and sleep the night.

This time will be the time we get it right:

Forgiveness not so hard, nor anger long;

Our graves will be less deep, our lies less true.

You held aloft the sword. I still love y-

[schizoprophet]

It is not a secret about me that one of the things I like to do is read stories in the Bible and get sad about it. That's like, that's been a pastime of mine since I was a child. Let me find the story that really makes me feel sad for the person in the story who I can't help because one, they've been dead for years if they ever existed in the first place. And two, if you're reading a story to try and help the people in the story, then you have approached the whole thing from the wrong end. Because you can't, that's the thing you cannot really do except to choose your own adventure books. And the Bible is not one of those. So one of the best stories to read if you like to read the Bible and make yourself feel sad for the people in it is the story of The Last Supper. Jesus Christ gets a bunch of his friends together, right? And then let's take the Jesus part off just as a person. You get a bunch of your friends together, right? And you have dinner, this big old dinner, you know, some bread and whatever, some wine and it's cool to be with your friends. It's fun, it's a good feeling, you know. And then you just get a vibe, there's a very, very, very specific vibe that you get. Right. And these are your friends so you can speak your mind around them. You can tell them how you feel and you say, you know, one of you is gonna sell me out. I just know it. You've - you've had some wine at this point. So you know, you can say that. Your friends will not judge you for speaking what's in your heart at this moment, and some of them are also, they've had a couple of glasses of wine themselves. They immediately go God, no, you are my friend. I would never, I would never, man. I want you to know person to person tonight. I will never sell you out. You, we've meant a lot to each other over the past couple of years and I will not sell you out man. And Jesus is like, OK, it's all good, you know, and they all do this. And one of 'em doesn't say shit. And he knows and he knows they both know and the one who's gonna do it feels worse than the one who's gonna suffer for it. Because he sort of knows I'm gonna do this thing. I guess I am. I don't want to. These are my friends, they're all gonna hate me. And in one version of the four gospels, Judas, uh, having sold Christ out, who normally then gets arrested and murdered by the state. Right? Um, in one version of the gospel Judas immediately goes and hangs himself. I've always - when I was a child I was like, oh, man. I mean, I understand that it'd probably be a tough one to live down in Jerusalem if you're the guy who killed Jesus. But, I mean, you know, that seems like kind of an extreme. This song is called cry for Judas.

-- John Darnielle about Cry for Judas, Tivoli de Helling on 2019-11-14

[hucowboyification]

Poolverine and 10 please?

10- "We're really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?"

It'd been an easy job. Get in, stab, claw, and shoot all the fuckers in the warehouse to death, get out. No one was left alive; not even the cleaning crew.

Making a quick getaway wasnt strictly necessary; given how blood-soaked they both were, it probably would've made them more suspicious. But the surrounding area had been terrorized by that group for so long that everyone turned a blind eye to the two mutants booking it down shaded alleyways, and the adrenaline made for great foreplay, so they ran anyways.

Logan pulled Wade down an alleyway, around a corner, and then into a dead end, where a brick building towered over everything.

Deep scratch marks in sets of threes littered the face of the building; hundreds, if not thousands of sets, some clearly much older than the several months Logan had been living in this universe.

"Climb," Logan instructed, lacking anything in the way of real urgency. It was made even less urgent by Logan tugging Wade's mask off and pressing him briefly to the brick wall for a deep, but surprisingly gentle kiss.

Once he was released, Wade did as he was asked. Fortunately, Logan had the forethought to make sure that people with normal hands could get to the roof, though just barely; it was a tough climb, even for Wade, and he had to question if it was really the only way up onto the roof, or if Logan just wanted to watch his ass as he made his way up tedious hand-and-foot-holds.

"Used to love coming up here," Logan sighed once they'd both reached the roof, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder against a boarded-up maintenance entrance. "Quiet. Good views. Hard to climb for most people. Back... back where I'm from, it got torn down years ago."

Wade, using the little good sense he had, didn't pry or crack a joke. He didn't particularly feel like regenerating any limbs tonight, thank you very much.

"But, anyways," Logan continued, giving Wade a sharp-toothed grin. "Thought it'd be a good place to bring you to catch our breath after a job. Be nice to spend an evening together without worrying about waking anyone up."

"Wait, do you mean-" he leaned in close, exaggeratedly whisper-shouting in Logan's ear- "S-E-X?"

"Yes, you goddamn loser, I mean fucking." Logan snorted, bumping his forehead against Wade's shoulder. "Up here, alone, under the stars."

"Aww, Wolvie, that's so romantic! We're really going to fuck here?" Wade gasped in mock surprise, bringing his hands to his face. "What if someone sees us?"

The twitching of Logan's lips gave away his attempts so suppress a laugh. "Who the fuck would see us, moron? It's the middle of the night, this is an abandoned building, and we'd see if anyone came on a nearby roof." Then he grinned. "Besides, what do you care? I always thought you'd be an exhibitionist."

"Oh, I am an exhibitionist, peanut, but you never know. There are cameras everywhere these days.

With a brief, disparaging "Jesus Christ, Wade", Logan dropped to his knees, nuzzling gently at Wade's already hard cock under his suit.

Then, the claws came out, moving towards the fabric of Wade's pants, and-

"Hey, no, no, no! Soft paws!" Wade shouted, swatting Logan's hands away and getting his fingers quite scratched up in the process. "I'm not sewing this up again! God, the knife hands are hot, but can you use your fingers to unzip me like a normal fucking person for once?"

Reluctantly, Logan did as ordered, sheathing his claws and unzipping his pants without ripping them (and Wade's skin, though that was of less concern) to shreds.

If there were cameras around (and of course there were- whatever the dicks at the TVA said, he's the main character here), they'd be getting quite a show.

Send me an ask with a number and a ship!

[rainbows-r-nice05]

Frozen Camera

I watched Rise of the Guardians and fell in love with Jack Frost because he is my baby. Anyway here is something I just whipped up and I know it's bad but I needed to so it to ease my mind.

I hate studying, I really do. My mind tries to focus but it drifts into dreamland. Dreaming of the impossible. Fighting dragons, ruling a kingdom….....finding true love. But enough about that. To relax a little, I decided to go read a book outside. Since it was Christmas time, I picked up the story about all the different kinds of Christmas characters. It was night time so I made sure to bring some blankets out. As I stepped outside on my back porch, coldness engulfed me. My porch was spacious with lawn chairs and a brick pillar on the side that leads into the grass. Oh, how beautiful it was. Christmas lights dance around my neighbors backyards across the lake connecting them. Lights from blue and white to red and green. The fountain was still going as the wind danced through it. I sat down in order to enjoy reading a bit into my novel. This section was about the famous Jack Frost to whom I believed in when I was a little kid. But not anymore since I am a junior in high school.   About 10 mins into my book, I absentmindedly start singing a famous Christmas Carol.  

God rest ye merry gentlemen

Let nothing you dismay

Remember Christ our Savior

Was born on Christmas Day

I heard distant barking of dogs nearby which was normal. And the rustle of plants that were caused by the wind.  

To save us all from Satan's pow'r

When we were gone astray

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joyI

Oh tidings of comfort and joy

All of a sudden, my ears perk up at this crinkle or a sound of frost covering something. Like a tingling sound of some sort. I looked around and saw one of my security cameras had frost covering the lens. 

“That's weird,” I muttered to myself as I stood up, set my book down and walked toward the camera. Over the lens it looked blueish with little snowflakes covering it. My curiosity got the best of me so I decided to go inside and get a ladder. (The camera was on the ceiling). I got the ladder from the garage and walked back outside. I opened it and climbed all the way to the top. I looked closely at the camera and scratched the frost off of it. Somehow, the frost just would not come off. 

“OH GOS-,” suddenly I lost my balance and was headed toward the ground. 

“Gotcha,” I was caught by someone who was levitating off of the ground and wrapped my arms around this persons neck. It seemed to be a boy around my age who had piercing blue eyes and platinum blond hair. His skin was pale white and freezing for that matter. His dazzling white teeth showed as he smiled lovingly at me. My goodness was he handsome.  

“Woah…” I was too starstruck to even comprehend what was happening. 

“Lost your balance, there sweetheart,” the mysterious man said.

“You-your-you…” 

“Jack Frost is the name,” he said as he lowered me to the ground. 

“Oh my goodness.. It's really you,”

“Of course it's me, alive and in person.” His smile…. Is so…..loving. I finally got a good look at him and he was wearing a blue hoodie with some light brown pants. He was indeed barefoot as he was Jack Frost.  

Oh my gosh.  OH MY GOSH The Jack Frost in front of ME!!!

“And what might your name be pretty girl,” 

Pretty girl…. I flushed deeply at that. I smiled sheepishly as I introduced myself. 

“(Y/N) (L/N) at your service,” as I extended my hand out for him to shake. 

He shook it softly and his hands were beyond freezing. 

“Wait, what are you doing here?” I was so puzzled as to why he was here. It was December right, but it does not even snow over here. 

“Oh.. Well…” he walked around with his staff tapping the bird bath with it and it froze solid. 

“I got quite bored while I was patrolling so I decided to fly across a random area where I found a beautiful singing voice in this very backyard.”

As if I could ever be more redder, my face would be a tomato. 

“What were you doing out here,” he said as he pointed his staff at me. 

I gently pushed his staff out of my face and raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, It is my backyard” I started to walk around him. 

“But if you want to know, I was reading a book.”

“Oh… interesting” 

“Y’know, you have a very nice backyard,” he stated as he walked around and faced the lake. 

“And a very nice show you get to watch.” 

I giggled lightly at that. 

“Oh yes, Christmas is the best time of the year when I get to sit outside in the cold and light a fire. I see all the Christmas lights in their glory.” I smiled at last night's occurrence which was just like how I described. 

“Well, isn’t that nice,” he said as he gazed at me. 

All of a sudden I hear this ringing noise that sounds jolly. Jack takes a small device out of his hand and looks very disappointed. He verbally groans. 

“Wish I could stay, but Santa needs me.”

“You mean North,” I say out of the blue

“Wait how do you-” 

“Jack,” I giggle a little, 

“Might want to go see him” I say as I step in front of him pointing at the device smiling. 

He smiles as he is about to fly away. 

“Wait!” I put a hand up signaling him to not go yet. 

“Will I ever see you again?” 

“I’ll make sure I will see you again, snowflake.” He says as he takes my hand and kisses it with his cold yet soft lips. 

I smile and yet again, I flush at the nickname. 

He then flies away and I am left alone outside. I walk back to the camera and see that the frost has disappeared. I smile as I walk back inside. I gaze back out across the lake where I think of the many events that Jack Frost will show me. 

thinking on a part two maybe or a milti series thing idk yet lol

I have to get back to studying though

[elysiuminfra]

good afternoon. some thoughts on southern baptism, a society built on shame, and my upbringing in the bible belt.

i don't have many memories of my childhood, but i am slowly uncovering them, piece by piece. i remember being a child, in church, being taught the concepts of heaven and hell. heaven is where good people go. the purest believers, those closest to the lord christ, would go to heaven, and no one else. the definition of who was worthy enough to go to heaven was well-defined as someone who lived without sin, but what counted as *sin* was not. hell was the place sinners went, and was the ultimate punishment. it was, i would come to learn, shockingly easy to go to hell, and others would try very hard to condemn you to it if you stepped out of line. a funny remark that shocked some friends was the pictures we were shown of heaven. suburban houses in the clouds, roads paved in gold, an american paradise with white picket fences. that itself is already a commentary itself. i don't need to elaborate on why a white-dominated church would teach this. it speaks for itself!

it is a culture built on shame, secrecy, and i will admit, child abuse. sinners went to hell, so no one was a sinner. the nuclear family was the ultimate paradise, no matter what went on behind closed doors. parents would pride themselves on how good their kid behaved. if your child behaved poorly, it was a sign of failed parenting, of sin in the house. so parents tried very, very hard to keep their children from bringing them shame. this is not hyperbole. most christian children i knew were regularly hit by their parents, including myself. some worse than others. it was an open secret with the children, but adults never spoke of it. no one wanted to admit they beat their kid with a belt until they left welts. they called it "discipline" and not "physical torture against a 5 year old," because that wasn't proper. this was also enforced in my not-technically-but-basically-christian elementary school. you were threatened with beatings if you misbehaved. some kids i knew were beaten. it's so normal i knew more children that were abused by their parents in some kind of way than children who had parents that didn't abuse them.

shame played the biggest role. emotionally and mentally it took its toll on everyone. if you sinned, you were punished, cast out, ostracized, no longer included. you had to redeem yourself by repenting and being shameful for what you did. and by the lord was everyone ashamed of something. no one was open about anything, except for how good they tried to look. no one wanted to admit that they drank every night. no one wanted to admit they stole their child's adhd medication. no one wanted to admit that they were cheating on their partners because of how miserable their marriage made them feel. everyone sinned - in sometimes very self-destructive, but fixable through community type ways - but no one admitted it, because to be open about your life meant inviting shame. even benign things, such as liking certain "sinful" shows or books or anything deemed the devils work brought shame. and shame is a very powerful tool. it keeps people isolated, it keeps people scared, and that's what southern baptism operates on. everyone else but the Flock is an enemy. the Flock is safe, but the rules of the Flock were so strict, everyone was too afraid to break them. this trapped people in endless cycles of self-destruction. i saw it happen to many people. shame stops you from getting help, not that the people you were around would help you as judgmental as they are, but your church was your world.

the church was more real than the government. heaven was more real than other countries. christ was more real than capitalism. i once believed this. many, many people truly believe this. it's why a lot of christian southerners are so deranged and miserable. you're indoctrinated into this honor-built society where you must flagellate yourself just to be considered a good person. and if you were gay, or trans, heaven forbid, you were at genuine great physical risk by people who you once sat next to in church. but i will elaborate at a different time.

i have more thoughts but this post is already so long. but do you see what i mean? it's more like a cult than anything else. i was very lucky to stop going to church. some people never escape. they enforce it on their own children. unloved children enter loveless marriages and continue living miserably until they die. and the cycle repeats.

[noodle-made-a-mistake]

A short list of things that bother me about the Magisterium canon:

Forgive me in advance for rambling, I have to get these thoughts out of my brain lmao (also it's been a couple years so correct me if I'm wrong! (I really hope I’m wrong on some of these :’) )) Spoilers ahead obviously!

● The lack of Calron :(

● Not taking the opportunity to develop Tamara's character and keeping her static until she's randomly just different. Strong female characters aren't just skilled and perfect until their one flaw (usually it's having feelings like any other human being) is revealed shockingly (that's just sloppy characterization), they should be crucial to the plot and not overlooked in favor of developing other characters (from what I remember she literally was my favorite while reading the series until she just got annoying (??) after a while, of course that could just be because the story is told through Call's perspective but still)

● The entire school system that I need more info on bc it sounds so unthought out and not like something that has existed for hundreds of years

● The forceful nature of making people serve as masters?? That makes no sense? Like, “Congratulations on not dying during your schooling or in the war(s), your prize is forced labor 👍.”

● Also THE COLLEGIUM WAS MENTIONED AND NEVER ELABORATED UPON

● TGT. Least favorite book. Get out. Tgt truthers how do you do it??

● The Maugris plot twist. It destroys the meaning behind the past four books. It's just so uncalled for and frankly just sloppy ig? I love the idea in a way, but only if it's foreshadowed from the beginning. Also I'm too attached to the complicated dynamic of Alastair raising his possible ex-bestie for it to end up like that

● The fact that the iron trio is out of school for half the series, I'd like to know what's normal, y'know??

● THE LACK OF ELABORATION ABOUT THE FIRST GEN I WANT TO KNOW MORE I HAVE TO KNOW MORE

● They did my man Constantine especially wrong, give him some ✨️character✨️ aside from E V I L and problematic (trademark) and charming (???)

● AND ALASTAIR GOD TELL ME MORE?? He's characterized as distant and obviously traumatized with his hate of his magic involved past but I just need to know what that past was like. Like who was he before his dead wife syndrome?? Idk but I'd of liked any excuse to know more about it just so I can understand him more??

● Please give me a single character trait of Declan's?? Like he was mentioned a handful of times and that's all we got. He was just some guy and I am hating it !!

● And Sarah. Like. She was a mom and liked peace as a concept but she also made a cool ass knife. That's a lot of things left up for interpretation. And I know Call wasn’t allowed to ask questions for plot reasons but god i wish he had more information about his own dead mother for Christ's sake

● Also other than a victim, who was Jericho? I need to know who this kid who drew scribbles in the margins of his very important journal while writing about how he was slowly being killed was. What was his relationship really like with his brother if he was so scared to say that he was dying or what gave him the impression that he didn't care?? It's fascinating and I need him under a microscope immediately

● Also the lack of queer representation until the last two books. AND THEN IT WASN'T EVEN ANY OF OUR MAIN CAST. Literally the saddest L ever :(

● AND AARON WAS NEVER CONFIRMED QUEER LIKE WHAT THE FUCK JUST L O O K AT HIS CHARACTER AND INFACT ALL OF OUR CORE CAST IS AT LEAST BI LIKE C O M E O N (ik they're like kids but even I knew I was not straight when I was like 11 and i lived in the most conservative non-LGBTQ-friendly town known to man)

● Low key, callmara was so bad, like I love them but not the way it happened, horrible set up. Tamara deserved so much better and to not have her entire character destroyed by becoming a love interest. I wish they thought about her as an independent character instead of the means to implement a romantic subplot in tgt, they did so good in the first books with that

● Also there's no elaboration on what chaos is. It's the mystical 5th element. Wow! Let's go girl, give us nothing! You'd think that if Makaris were so exceptionally rare and special that we'd get some explanation on how they come to be and what it is exactly that they can control but we're just left to assume it's the special "chosen one" type of thing. Idk it bothers me for some reason :/

That's just off the top of my head and it's been years since I read the series all the way through (I should do a reread soon). For the most part I adore this funky series and I hate to bash it but I felt the need to ramble about it's shortcomings because I'm not crazy, right?? It had so much potential! Anyway, I'm sort of glad for the blanks in the story despite complaining about them because it leaves room for fics and fan interpretations that I always love to see, but on the other hand, I'd like for the story to feel finished and not like a last minute science fair project.

Thanks for sticking around for my late night rambling lmao

[daincrediblegg]

Just a laundry list of stuff from the Terror scripts that doesn’t nearly get as talked about as much as it should and I’m going to make it everyone else’s problem

The way that neptune’s shit in front of hickey is LITERALLY a revenge shit. Puppy knew puppy always knew- but also how neptune is so beautifully and carefully tied into scenes like. The script loved this dog. So fucking much ("we put up with it because the captain loves it" DAMN RIGHT!!!! THATS HIS DOOOOOOG).

As much as I hate these bitches: that extended scene with Sir John and Lady Jane???? Him in bed with the flu and they are literally the picture of casual tenderness and affection and I might never recover from it. He literally asks her to stowaway like I CANNOT with that shit it’s so unbelievably cute. "I'm ill, Jane" will haunt me forever.

Sofia’s “you should marry a pole, not a woman”??? YYYYYYYOWCH

Also the change your jacket before you come down to dinner bit to Francis that was carried over from the book makes me go insane. Yes. Change your whole self to make yourself presentable to good society and then you can be with us. Yeah. Sooo fucking normal (I am yanking that man away from Sofia with my fucking teeth on the scruff of his neck).

Also. The Pelgar Bridgens romance. Is so real. Show gets so subtle with it I read it as a storge kinda bromance first go around but script loved these two guys being in love so much and it was beautiful that it was literally written queer love from the get go. And put up against Hickey and Gibson it’s a stark and beautiful and TRAGIC as fuck contrast. Like show showed it well but the way it was actually written is ascendant to me.

JFJ being at home in combat. Jesus fucking christ. And the crown of thorns. Jesus was a man riddled with scurvy and his name was james fitzjames. also the splinter thing he literally carries the ship with him in the most painful way possible. christ alive.