#sending a raw link does such a number to my nerves

[wutheringmights]

Saw this randomly and first thought was ctb warriors <3

https://www.tumblr.com/ousia-poetica/722865047779655680?source=share

I will reblog this but, yes definitely! His heart isn't the prettiest lol

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝘼𝙐𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

i wanted to use this picture so badly but I knew it would ruin the mood.

∘ request(s):

"ayo? they’re not sleeping with anyone else??? does that mean???? raw??? w edgy karl????????

"ooooo i’m lacking in edgy karl content😩 for the next one could you do one where maybe the reader is being a brat and karl puts them in their place? if that makes sense?"

"Ever since I read your edgy Karl x reader I been getting massive brainrot where reader is just questioning their relationship and Karl is just dismissive about it. It feels great to get that off my chest. 😭"

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, prostitution (sort of), drinking, Todd the frat boy, crude/suggestive language, degradation, asphyxiation, spitting, angst

∘ word count: ~5k

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ song recommendation: Come Here by Dominic Fike

a/n: y'all really drive this series oml. thank you to all your requests! should I do song recs on these or is that dumb? happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You adjusted your dress, attempting to not look as unkempt as you felt. Your hair had luckily survived the bus ride to Karl’s, yet your clothing was wrinkled from being smashed against various girls with the same destination in mind. You scoffed to yourself as you leaned against the side of the house, tugging your heel into a more comfortable position as one of the women in the group knocked on the large door.

It felt like there was always some random party blaring out of the windows, so you were surprised to be mixed into an excited group of girls waiting to be invited in by one of the Brothers. The only time when you’d been over to visit Karl and there wasn’t some kind of celebration of a random event was directly before spring break.

A nameless member dressed in a tux answered the door and you bit back a laugh as he welcomed everyone into the foyer. As you scanned the crowd for Karl, you noticed the number of older people lounging about in formal attire. You furrowed your brows slightly, knowing that Todd was probably behind whatever cultist bullshit was about to happen.

You wracked your brain trying to remember if Karl had mentioned anything about the importance tonight, but knowing the two of you, he’d probably begun to tell you only for him to get distracted.

A familiar laugh drew your attention to one corner of the living room where a man who looked dangerously like Karl playfully shrugged out of the grasp of another frat member. His nails were bare and he lacked any piercings, his hair even tamed so it fell just right over his forehead. You couldn’t deny the way your mind ran absolutely feral at the view of him, as if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where Karl was actually Carl.

As someone else struck up the conversation in his group, he turned to look over the crowd, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His eyes brightened as he spotted you in the mix of the group. Whoever had let you into the house handed you and the rest of the people a brochure, something you then realized most of the room was holding.

You snorted slightly as you read, “46th ANNUAL MEMBER AUCTION,” printed boldly across the front page in elegant script. Your stomach twisted slightly at the discovery. You flipped open the pamphlet, seeing a list of numbers and the names of corresponding Brothers.

Karl was 23.

“I didn’t even sign up, honestly,” a voice called in your ear as Karl leaned over your shoulder, peering at the page in your hands. His cologne was more expensive than he usually wore, made obvious by the way it complemented his natural scent with a fuller smell.

You turned slightly, nearly leaning into his warm breath above you as you moved to look at him. “Come on, let them pimp you out,” you joked, your finger underlining one of the details on the back. “It’s for the frat Karl,” you mocked, making him roll his eyes playfully. “You look awfully pretty to not have signed up,” you chided, a small amount of jealousy tugging in your chest.

He ran his tongue across his teeth, his eyes dancing with mischief as he looked down at you. “Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “You know how loyal I am to this frat. I think it’s only right,” you continued to josh, eliciting a low chuckle from him. The smell of his whiskey hung beautifully on him. You’d be damned not to acknowledge what a catch he was.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and settled it on the small of your back, the two of you mumbling to each other as you headed towards the kitchen so he could pour you a drink. As he explained the process of the auction, your nerves started to change drastically. Luckily, your exterior kept this from Karl because you weren’t even sure yourself why you could be feeling so strongly about the event. “... Really, only the married guys get out of it without being heckled all night. It’s… I don’t know. It’s pretty lame.”

“So basically, it’s an event where the guys objectify themselves in the name of the frat." You jested, your eyes glued on his pinky ring, the only symbol of the Karl you knew. "Have you done this before?”

Karl shook his head. “I wasn’t old enough, thank God.” He leaned against the counter beside you, his back to the circulating groups of people so he was only looking at you. As he slouched, he matched your height.

You reached forward, taking the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt between your finger pads. “I’m trying to decide if I’m scared or aroused by this version of you,” you tittered, wanting so badly to feel his teeth against your skin. He smirked at you. “It’s like Wonderbread you. Like you’d have to sign a contract with me before you gave me a hug,” you teased further, making the smug look on his face twist into a laugh.

He leaned closer to you, his hand brushing to lay against the curve of your hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can still rip you in half.”

You took a sip of the Brandy in your glass to hide the moan wanting to rip through your throat at the closeness of him. His lips brushed against your skin before pressing a kiss behind your ear subtly. You nudged him away from you reluctantly as Todd strolled into the kitchen, arms raised slightly as if he’d been searching the high heavens for Karl.

He moved to stand between the two of you, reaching for a decanter of a liquid you couldn’t place. Karl crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Karl, I have been looking everywhere for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pin with Karl’s number on it and nudging it towards him on the counter. “You know, it’s kind of fun that partners can’t bid because-” he paused before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his side. You let out a laugh, resting your hand against his chest as Karl’s eyes darkened at the two of you. “-Your lovebug can have me tonight then, huh?” He mocked, smirking.

“Well, technically, I’m not his partner…” you added, pretending to touch Todd flirtatiously.

Todd’s arms pulled you closer. “You know what I mean, Princess.” You snickered, pushing him off of you as he moved to lean against the sink behind you. “Come on, Karl. I’m practically handing you the opportunity to hook up with MILFs, random TAs, and sorority girls,” he begged, making Karl pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That does sound intriguing,” you chimed, making Karl giggle mildly.

Todd’s eyes lit up with a sarcasticness as if you were actually promoting the idea. “You can go instead if you want to, babygirl,” he offered, tilting his head in an action to resemble a car salesman.

You looked to Karl with raised eyebrows and he shook his head in disbelief at the stupidity of whatever banter you and Todd were striking up. “That would be fun! Please, illegally pimp me out instead. I want to be solicited-”

Todd’s hand reached out to clamp over your mouth. “Okay stop.” He straightened his tie and the pin on his lapel in the shape of a number 12. You quietly wondered who were in the top places and what they were doing to be in those spots. “Karl, you’re a legacy dick. Most of those women out there probably hooked up with your family members and are back for more of that sweet sweet Jacobs-”

Karl cut him off gruffly. “-I’ll do it if you don’t finish that sentence and never bring that to my attention again.” Todd pretended to zip his lips before pointing to the pin and walking off. You took the pin in your hands, trying to ignore the shakiness of your fingers as you pinned it onto his jacket. “You know his name is actually Mark, right? He pretended to be a Romney for his first two years here.”

You snorted. “Don’t feed me that information right now.” You wet your lips, feeling his eyes on you as you brushed your hands down his lapels. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… I was just joking.” You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Like, we can leave if you want,” you offered softly.

Karl chuckled, moving his hands up to rest over yours. “Someone’ll pay fifty bucks to take me to some dodgy hotel for ten minutes. It’ll be okay,” he assured. “Maybe I'll have fun, who knows.” He drew you closer once again. You swore you could get drunk off the intoxicating allure of his breath. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly worried about having that conversation with him. “If you’re okay with it, I am,” you answered quietly, sending him a small shrug.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, shrugging back at you.

Everyone began to gather around the grand piano in one corner of the living room. You could suddenly feel the heat of the massive fireplace against your bare legs as Karl rested an arm against the wall above you, leaning over you slightly. “How much would you bid on me, if you could?” He whispered as Todd explained some rules to the bidders.

You looked up at him reaching up to play with his lot number. You hummed slightly in mock thought. “Maybe a packet of ramen, a Speedway rewards card, and…” you trailed off before digging into your purse and grabbing a handful of quarters, “five dollars in linty coins?” You joked, sending him an innocent smile.

He bit back a laugh. “I feel like you’re the only one that knows my true value,” he quipped sarcastically.

As the auction began to kick off, men were being bought for various currencies, from picnics in the park to gala dates and etcetera. The tension in your shoulders began to cool as there were fewer ambiguous payments. The women and men that paid sums of money were the ones that worried you the most. Karl’s hand slithered up your back until he reached the back of your neck, pressing his fingers into your skin almost possessively.

You focused on the crowd, trying to notice any peering eyes cutting into Karl, but no one seemed to have the slightest clue. Karl’s fingers worked at a knot in your neck, making you want to moan at his touch. You hated being this close to him and unable to mark him as your own. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the skin on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by your dress. “Relax,” he whispered, heat raking through your body at the sound of his voice.

Finally, his number came up. Before the auctioneer could finish introducing him, a handful of sorority girls sparked up with heavy numbers in the air. Your eyes widened and you could feel Karl stiffen behind you at their urgency. As their bids began to grow and add zeros, your heart began to beat in your ears.

“$5000.” Your mouth grew dry as the number halted the noise in the room. Bewilderedly, you searched the room until your eyes landed on a woman in her early-50s. You couldn’t help your mouth slightly fall open. “I’d like to bid $5000,” she repeated. You downed the rest of your Brandy, letting the alcohol sting your throat and warm your stomach. As Karl’s turn closed, your mind went blank. What did I expect to happen? You scorned.

After about an hour, the bidding was over. You plastered on a smile after everyone exited the room, standing before Karl and spending the time you had left letting your mind race with emotion. “What’s wrong?” Karl asked, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You swatted him off. “You excited to spend time with your new mommy?” You chided, making him raise his eyebrows. Your voice came out a bit more condescending than you’d intended.

Something dark flitted across his expression. “Definitely.” He pressed closer to your ear again. “I bet she cums on the slow stroke,” he leered, making you inch away from him. He giggled slightly at his own joke, before noticing your quietness. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, unable to explain just how you were feeling about the situation. It was as if reality had seeped into your bones at what had happened.

Karl ran his fingers against his bottom lip as he looked at you, the skin flushing a deeper red. You’d seen the color too many times to count, but it was usually due to stimulation from you. “Don’t be like that. What’s going on?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms softly. This seemed to only further allure him. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’ll start treating you like a brat,” he whispered, perking your attention. You let your eyes wander back to the ground. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. His calm expression added arousal to your swimming cauldron of feelings.

You pulled out of his grasp. You bit your tongue, grasping at your thoughts and searching for what you wanted to tell him. His grey irises swirled with some kind of worry and what you could only describe as fondness. Instead, you chickened out. “Just use protection, okay?” You faltered.

His features remained quiet as if in thought. In one swift movement, his hand brushed against your jaw, pressing his lips against yours. Your whole body relaxed into his touch, your eyes closing to relish in the feeling of silent loyalty to you. As his tongue brushed against your lips, it was as if he was stating just what you meant to him. If you weren’t in the right mind, you’d moan a gracious pledge of your mutual devotion into his mouth.

He pulled away shortly, leaving you flushed and winded as he reached his thumb up to swipe away the smearing of your lipstick. “I’m in your fuckin’ pocket, remember?” He acquiesced almost emotionlessly, before dropping his hands and letting you stumble. You had to will your body not to grin at what he’d said as the woman who bid on him approached the two of you.

She shook hands with both of you talking about the thrill of the event and how she’s gone for the last couple of years. “Ma’am, he’s a virgin. Please be careful,” you noted as Karl helped her into her coat. Karl’s eyes shot daggers into you, biting back a laugh of his.

The woman giggled with her whole chest. “Oh, darling. That won’t be an issue,” she gasped as she caught her breath. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile as you made eye contact with an ill-looking Karl.

You opted to head back to your apartment, eyeing the clock each time you get an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your roommate had gone out for the night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. As two hours passed, you were beginning to feel phantom notifications from your phone, your heart skipping with faltering hope.

As if your prayers had finally been answered, a brief knock at your door sent you jumping over the back of the couch and tugging on a hoodie before you threw open the door. Karl stood leaning against the frame and cracking his knuckles. He eyed you curiously as he noticed your urgency. His shirt was barely buttoned and untucked, hair ruffled and curling here and there. As you let him into your apartment, your mouth grew dry with anticipation. Karl slumped onto your couch, kicking his feet up on your coffee table and raising an eyebrow at you.

You wet your lips, sitting on the arm of a chair near his side of the couch. “How was it?” You asked. “Did you learn anything?”

He scoffed, humor dancing behind his eyes. “You will never guess where I was.” You furrowed your brows at him as if it wasn’t obvious. To this he shook his head, sitting up to lean his elbows on his knees, reaching forward to pull you into the empty spot beside him. “So, that woman owns an art studio downtown and she holds classes for whoever. The nail polish girl in my art class is like the right-hand man to that woman and she caught wind of the auction,” he paused to loosen a few more of his buttons. “The woman has always gone to the auction, but the girl knew I was participating this year and recommended me.”

“Okay, so… You were in an art class all night?” You probed, making him grin smugly at you.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Not exactly.”

You snorted, leaning into the cushions and turning towards him. “They weren’t drawing you nude were they?” You joked sarcastically, the mental image proving to be almost unthinkable. His eyes shifted to his lap as he chuckled and you punched his arm. “You’re kidding!”

He shook his head, biting back a grin. “I had old dudes staring at my dick for two hours straight and trying to recreate it in charcoal.” You covered your mouth with your hand, waiting for him to reveal that he was joking. “They liked my cheekbones,” he taunted.

You huffed in disbelief. “Oh my fucking God.” Your mind was utterly blank. “So, you didn’t sleep with anyone?”

He smiled at you. “Nope. You’re still my only one.” Your cheeks flushed at this. “That being said, you were so incredibly immature earlier,” he chided, making your eyebrow perk with discontent.

“Excuse me,” you nearly hissed.

His eyes navigated your body. “Jealous little brat, honestly,” he scoffed. “Make it up to me.” You stared at him blankly, as if unable to comprehend his words. He moved his arms to rest on the back of the couch, letting his legs spread a bit further. You watched him intently as his jaw tensed, looking slightly intimidating as he eyed you. His calm expression started you, gears turning behind his eyes. “Did I stutter?” He nipped.

You climbed onto his lap, letting his hands slip beneath your hoodie as he gripped your hips, pulling you down to grind against his leg. Heat spread across your body at the friction, realizing now just how needy you’d been for most of the night. Funny how you didn’t even think of taking care of yourself without Karl there.

He tugged your collar to the side, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the cool temperature of the room. You felt his teeth glide over the valleys of your collarbones as if threatening to mark you as the brat you were. His brat.

His fingers dug into your skin, his knee bouncing slightly as he pushed you to increase your speed. You moaned against his shoulder, reaching the hand that wasn’t planted securely on his arm towards his belt. The clasp was almost second nature for you, considering the various places and positions you’d been in and wrestling with it.

As you slipped your hand into his pants, he groaned, bucking against your touch as if he'd been hungry for you all night. He rested his hand in the crook of your neck, roughly bringing your lips to his own. Instead of kissing you immediately, his lips brushed against yours, the smell of his breath dancing against your skin and forcing you to want him more as your hips moved to make up for the lack of his taste on your tongue.

Your hand gripped him through his boxers, earning a muffled grunt of pleasure from Karl. His eyes threatened to roll as you began to palm him, his breathing deep and needy. Curses hissed through his teeth, the sound further adding to how turned on you were. "Give me your mouth," he moaned, a demand you were more than happy to fulfill as you slipped onto your knees in front of him. Karl's hand gathered your hair as you tugged his boxers down. Your fingers traced the hem of his dress pants that ran against the inside of his thigh before attending to his arousal once again.

Then something clicked into your mind. "I've been thinking about what Todd said," you began, Karl's reaction dulling as you began to pump your hand around his dick. "About me sleeping with him," you continued, your voice dripping with a venomous innocence.

Karl twitched in your hand, his grip on your hair tightening. You moaned slightly as his eyes hardened. "Tread lightly, pet," he nearly growled. The gruffness of his voice sending goosebumps down your back. "You're on thin fucking ice already."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, crowding his lap. "I wonder if he's bigger than you," you commented.

You seemed to find the last straw rather quickly as Karl grabbed your arms, pulling you up and throwing you on the couch beneath him. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, ripping your underpants down your legs. "And here I was about to make this about you," he chuckled darkly, leaning on his knee to slip his jacket off his shoulders and discard his button-up shirt.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him before he ground his hips against yours roughly, clashing his lips against yours. He tugged on your hair tightly, tongue pressing into your mouth.

His lips left yours, pulling your hoodie over your head and throwing it across the room before digging his teeth into your chest. You moaned at his efforts, basking in the roughness of his actions. Karl pushed himself into you without warning, and without hesitation, he began to snap his hips into yours. Your thighs tightened around his waist, attempting to adjust to his speed before he hooked one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, pushing it towards your chest.

His hand moved to wrap around your neck possessively, his eyes burning into yours with a mix of lust and glimmers of the sadistic side of him that loved to see you tremble beneath his touch as he restricted your breathing, only for you to gasp for air when he allowed. "Fucking brat," he barked, pounding into you faster. "Bring him up again and I'll make your life miserable," he groaned, spitting into your mouth to illustrate his point.

You let him take his anger out on you as you fought not to grin at the pure sparks of pleasure pulsing through your veins at the view of him completely dominating you. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt not to cum from the intense stimulation, your fingers digging into the softness of the couch beneath you as you searched for something to anchor yourself.

Karl leaned back slightly, dragging a hand through his hair as he slowed his hips, his eyes glued to yours, the new angle driving him deeper into you. The view of him above you like this oddly reminded you of when the two of you went to parties and spent the night grinding against each other in the massive crowds of your peers to an unidentifiable song.

Any idiot could tell Karl could fuck by the way he danced.

Karl pressed his hips firmly against yours, bucking into you relentlessly once again, pulling your hands above your head and holding your wrists in his fist. He kissed you harshly once again, swallowing your attempts to catch your breath and dragging his teeth across your lips again.

You felt unable to control your orgasm as it raced through you, your moans echoing into Karl's mouth as your body tensed. Karl used your orgasm to ride out the rest of his own pleasure, smirking slightly at your disheveled appearance.

As the air settled, the two of you straighten up the living room, making sure to find each article of clothing so your roommate wouldn't comment. Karl sat back down on the couch, reaching an arm out for you. You raised an eyebrow at him hesitantly, with a small smirk playing on your lips.

He huffed jokingly. "Come on, I can't fuck your brains out and not hug you at least for a bit," he joshed, gesturing for you to join him.

You let out a small laugh. The man with multiple piercings, tattoos, and a glare that can insight nightmares, was always the first to ask to cuddle. You tucked into the spot beneath his arm, letting his grasp tighten around you as you wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

His heartbeat thumped against your ear, making you want to slip into a deep sleep. "I think we should set Todd up with Nail Polish Girl," you joked, breaking into the comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced up at Karl as you said this, hoping to gauge his reaction as you silently apologized for what you'd said earlier in the name of getting him riled up.

He chuckled shortly. "We should probably straighten ourselves out before we meddle in other people's relationships," he mocked. It'd come out as a light-hearted statement, but it tugged heavily at your nerves.

You pushed yourself to sit up and look at him, suddenly anxious. "What do you mean? We're fine, right?"

Karl smirked. "Well yeah, but sooner or later we're going to have to figure out what we're doing." He wet his lips. "I mean, how much longer are we supposed to just mindlessly hook up."

"We're not mindlessly hooking up. We're friends too," you reasoned, your voice uneven as you attempted to inject humor in your statements, hoping to mask your hesitation.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, but don't you want more? Like who do you say I am when your friends ask?" He raised his eyebrows, shortly waiting for a response before continuing. "A booty call, right? Am I supposed to be a booty call forever?"

You were taken aback slightly. His tone wasn't provocative, but that didn't stop your heart from racing. "What are you saying?"

He shrugged. "What does it sound like I'm saying?" He sat up a bit more to angle towards you. "I don't mean now, but eventually I'd like this to mean a bit more."

You stood up from the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table as you reached for a pair of discarded sweatpants and slipped them on. "This is a lot to think about," you mumbled, unable to make eye contact with him. Your mind raced with the different outcomes of what he was talking about. Also, all of them involved the two of you going stale and him finding comfort in other people. "I mean… what we have now is good. Isn't it?"

Karl stood too, raising his hands slightly as if he were consoling a cornered animal. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I thought we were on the same page?" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously, looking for words. "I- uh. I'm sorry." His hands fisted at his sides awkwardly, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Sirens wailed from outside your windows, the street becoming the only noise in your apartment as he awaited your next move. "I'm actually… gonna head out. I'll uh… I'll text you later," he stated, grabbing his jacket, gauging your reaction.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

okay soooo... sorry for the delayed reply, i've been kinda busy!

i gotta start this off by saying how much i loved the way you wrote "[...] that feeling of wanting to reach divinity and holiness with your writing. The raw, exposed nerve of that writing." - it's hard for me to refer to writing as a hobby because it's such a substantial part of me, if that makes sense? or maybe that's just my codependent relationship to writing... whenever i don't write for a while i start feeling like a non-person! (ok, in hindsight this doesn't sound 100% related to the holiness bit, but that's what sparked the train of thought)

on for colored girls who have considered suicide - when the rainbow is enuf: i actually listened to a monologue from this a while ago on youtube, but I'll be sure to check out the full text!

also, on the topic of spoken-word & slam poetry: i'm going to a poetry reading at a friend's place later this month and it's nerve-racking. i mean, hey, of course i bleed into my poetry, and in theory i'm cool with that. but reading it aloud to a room half full of strangers? that's like lying on an operating table, flesh sliced open with surgeons over you. (i'm sure it'll be fun, though)

i've read primer for small weird loves and wishbone (because they're both included in richard siken's book crush - which is definitely worth the money (& btw, he has a new book coming out this year in fall/winter; thought i'd tell you in case you didn't know))! out of the two i like wishbone a lot more - although that's probably just because i relate to it a little bit more. i like making lists so i've compiled some of my favorite parts from the poem:

• "I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons [...]"

• "Let's not talk about it, let's just not talk."

• "[...] we keep doing it Henry, we keep saying until we get it right... [...]"

• "If you love me, Henry, you don't love me in a way I understand."

• "This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish."

it's crazy (well, not really, but you know) that you mentioned jericho brown, because we read something by him in english class a few years back and he's completely slipped my mind since then! so, thanks for reminding me :)

first of all, i love how duplex starts and ends with the same line - and this may be a reach, but it feels sort of like coming home? he introduces us to the line, we go away for a while, then we're back at the beginning. and maybe i just feel this way because for me going home is synonymous with going back home. (not always, but a lot of the time.) also, the contrast of "none of the beaten end up how we began" & the poem ending exactly how it began? i don't have the right words to explain what, but there's something that grabs me in that.

now, let's take a short detour because i feel like dropping some recs. here's two poets whose work i really enjoy: chen chen and jasmine ledesma (who i think is on tumblr, too? @/candiedspit if i'm not wrong). i'd specifically like to recommend (and hopefully hear you opinion on) chen chen's i'm not a religious person but & jasmine ledesma's short stories no candy, sorry and FIEND.

links (just in case the previous ones don't work):

i'm not a religious person but: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/58152/im-not-a-religious-person-but

no candy, sorry: https://tinyletter.com/jasmineledesma/letters/no-candy-sorry

FIEND: https://marchharemag.com/fiend

lastly, thanks for the prompt! i'll be sending you the poem in a separate ask (although i'm convinced it only makes sense if you're me) as to not make this one too long haha

-cat

Cat!

Sorry on the delayed reply on my side too. I've been sorta busy with a lot of stuff, but I had to drop in a message.

First of all, the poem? Iconic. It is so well written!!! Ahh! The way you use the numbers to count down all the things in a list sort of a format . And the splendid use of a clock ticking to signify the time coming closer and closer. It reminds of the Doomsday Clock which always reminds us that we are two minutes to complete destruction and in a way it is an inevitable destruction. "I'm one drink away from holiness and I'm not stopping" is such a vivid Ginsberg line that ahhh, it hits with the concept of the Beat Generation being these drunk, high poets who ultimately want to experience divinity through their intoxication and writing. And the ending with, "it's almost Valentine's- please tell your wretched heart I'm sorry." AGHH, the way the narrator tries to stop the inevitability of the sadness of romance?? Or being stuck in a relationship and trying to do better? The interpretations are left wide open and I love that.

[Let me know if you'd be okay with me sharing your poem? And oh, if you like to send me another prompt, I would love that.]

And I wanted to give you some advice on slam poetry performances, I have a bit of an experience with them. The surgical metaphor is indeed apt, there is some vulnerable to stand in front of a group of people to carve out yourself into words and see it take on a meaning for everyone differently. But, revel in that vulnerable state and see how that conveys meaning. Focus on a spot in the room and speak to it and let meaning take its own hold. And remember, even if you don't get the reception you are hoping for, hold onto the meaning that you initially wrote it with. How your poetry affects you in the end is what matters. And good luck! Let me know how it goes.

[I didn't know about the new Siken book. Do you know if it has a name? I'll have to look it up whenever it releases.]

Ahh, and I love the idea of listening favourite lines of poems, I might start doing that with my favourite poems too.

[Also, I know it's in the name, but there's something about the way Wishbone is written that it makes you keep as if you are splintering into bits and dissolving. Especially in the bit where he goes I wish you'd stop reminding about the debt because you can do nothing about it and even if you love me, it is not the way I want.; Please let me go, I cannot let you be in my debt anymore.]

Jericho Brown? Iconic. The cyclical nature of the form as well as it is sort of the same line all the while not being the same line is such a beautiful way to express the repetition, but all how each cycle in a way is different than the last one.

I loved Chen Chen's poem. The way God chooses to escape from his own reality through someone who does not believe enough in him to question him at first it beautiful. And what hits me is how God stops and creates a barrier again by sending the angel as soon as he is questioned in adjacent to his role in the universe. What interests me is how the atheist (I know it does not mention atheism directly, but close enough) is sent an angel and later meet with God, and therefore, the relation that they form is a meaningful bond between two individuals rather than being a power dynamic with the worshipped and the devotee.

There's something about Ledesma's stories about hopelessness in her both protagonists. In the same way, both are extremely tired of their circumstances and want to be somewhere else in perhaps a better versions of their selves. The scattered prose certainly draws it very strongly together.

And finally, to drop a rec of my own, let me know what you think of Ada Limon's "The Problem With Travel" and "Accident Report in the Tall, Tall Weeds." They both are very beautiful poems.

Hope to hear from you soon! :)

[allmightyneed]

Villain!All Might (Smite)x reader. part 4/20

Link to part 1. Link to part 2. Link to part 3.

The luxury high rise apartment he takes you to is spectacular, but the manner in which he takes you is even more so. 

From the fourth storey landing of your building, he launches into the sky, having slung you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, turning a deaf ear to your protests. How undignified. At least he had propped your broken door back in place. You live in a safe enough area; hopefully nothing gets stolen. 

All of your worries and protests are swept away as you are subjected, in that awkward position, to an inhuman burst of speed. The G-force of it is completely unexpected. You’ve watched news reel of him leaping around like this and he never betrays if it affects him. 

You squeeze your eyes shut against the wind and the stomach-turning height. Just as vertigo threatens to overwhelm you, you feel a gentle yet solid thump. He’s landed and lets you down, setting you on your feet. He holds you by your shoulders a moment, making sure you won’t stumble. When he lets go of you, you pull your cardigan tighter and cross your arms. This balcony is very nicely furnished, and large— there’s a pool up here, and a fire pit— but it’s also cold being so high up. 

It’s slightly off putting to find out that he doesn’t reside in a dingy abandoned warehouse full of rats and contraband and fellow criminals. Good looking, powerful, wealthy— what possible reason could a person like that have to be the number one villain? To devote himself and his talents to sowing chaos? You regard him with renewed suspicion, which is at odds with the slow, steady trickle of desire he had tapped when he had coaxed the truth out of you earlier. But, no. The desire had come before that, even. You can pinpoint it to a month and a half ago in that alley, where he had turned into another person before your eyes.  

“Just to be clear, girl— you’ve come here willingly. You can leave now if you want. I won’t stop you or come looking for you again.”

He has become strangely impassive, so that you cannot really guess at what he wants. There is no emotion to read in his face; instead you must do as he tells you. Your imagination goes into overdrive; maybe he’ll bend you over any one of these fine pieces of furniture, kick your legs apart and slowly but forcefully penetrate you. You watch, dry-mouthed, as he shrugs out of his suit jacket and strides past you inside.  

You follow, hovering at the threshold.

“When you enter this apartment, you will not speak unless spoken to.” He tosses the jacket carelessly over the back of a chair and begins unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up. Absurdly, your pulse quickens at bearing witness to this simple action. All Might in a state of undress, and what your prurient mind chooses to notice is that his forearms are so thick. “You will obey every order promptly and without question. That’s all you need to know for now. Do you consent to these terms?”

“Yes,” you say.

“Then come in.” He beckons you, having taken a seat on one of the elegant leather couches. You step through the door and slide it closed behind you. 

The apartment is richly furnished in a modern western style, all black and cream and wood. The floors are polished stone— granite or marble, you’d guess— and the corners of every rug and chair and table come to right angles. This is much too refined and tasteful for All Might, or so one would think. Can this place really be his? 

As you drop your purse, step out of your heels and pad across the floor in your stockings, a photograph on a table catches your eye. Smiling out of the frame are an elderly couple who look like they’re dressed for the opera.

You almost ask All Might if they’re his parents, but stop yourself just in time. It wouldn’t do to break one of the rules so quickly.

You come to stand in front of him, again pulling your cardigan closer and crossing your arms. Your heart beats wildly in your chest; you search his face for some indication of his intentions, or any emotion at all, but he is inscrutable. His control is absolute. 

“Come here.” He pats his thigh. “I’m going to spank you.”

“What?” It’s such a ridiculous notion you almost laugh in his face. 

His eyes flash at your flagrant disobedience. “You’re new to this, I grant you that, so you get one pass. That was it.”

You drop your head. “Sorry.” But he’s All Might— the symbol of discord. Why is he concerned with discipline?

“Empty apologies will not lessen the severity of the punishment. Place yourself across my knee, facedown. Do it quickly, girl.”

You hesitate a moment too long, so he does it for you, scooping you with one arm into his lap and pinning you there. You yelp in surprise. That arm is like a steel beam at the small of your back. With dispassionate efficiency, he hikes your wool skirt up over your hips, the material bunching at your waist. Your pantyhose underneath do little to alleviate the indignity of the situation, but it’s something. His hand caresses your bottom, large enough to hold you almost entirely; he chuckles and remarks that he likes that even his hand can’t manage that. [All Might likes a fat ass ok?] You squirm at the touch, uncertain as to whether you like this or not— or rather, whether you should like it. There is no ignoring the arousal pooling in your core, a direct result of his touches.

“This is in the way,” he says. Your pantyhose. He grips the thin material, getting purchase on it at your cleft-- “no, please--!” you cry-- and rends it.

You struggle against him to no avail so he brings one hand down upon your now-bare flesh, making you cry out. Unmoved by your pleas, he widens the tear. “Your constant arguing is becoming tedious.” He smacks your ass again, harder, right at the widest part. It hurts this time, really hurts. The stinging pain shoots straight to your aching core, and you gasp, squeezing your thighs together. 

“Th-that was too hard!”

He responds with another open-handed hit on the other cheek. “Slow to learn. I can work with that.”

“I… I thought…” 

He laughs darkly. “You thought I was going to fuck you, huh?” Yes. Please, yes. “No… I don't think you could handle it. I’m too big for you, little one.” If you didn’t know better by now, you’d mistake his jovial nature for leniency. He’s anything but. He is sharp and commanding and uncompromising.

He rains blows down upon your exposed bottom, alternating sides. He takes care not to hit the same spot twice in a row, and soon your backside burns, the nerves too sensitive but All Might does not relent, even though you are sobbing. Exactly why, you couldn’t say. From the pain, or the humiliation… or the shameful feelings he’s aroused in you. Your fear does not disarm him; from his lack of reaction, it seems your fragility does not particularly endear you to him. He merely expects submission as a matter of course. 

Except… you hear his slightly labored breathing and, when he shifts, you feel the unmistakable jut of his erection against your hip. He desires you. Still, in your desperate, selfish state, you barely register any need besides your own. You clutch your hands in fists, tears falling freely. The sense of time slips away, and you can only await the blows, and then you lose track of even that, existing only as a duality, between sensation and anticipation, and pain and pleasure. 

At last, the punishment ends. His hand comes to rest on your ass, stroking the inflamed skin as gently as a lover would. He nudges your thighs apart, deliberately avoiding the center you want so desperately for him to touch. 

“You’re wet, girl,” he remarks in that deep voice you know from TV. Such a familiar, menacing voice, though you had never imagined it saying the things he’s saying to you now. “I can smell you.”

You bury your face in your arms, suppressing the embarrassing sound that escapes your mouth. His fingers dance between your thighs, surprisingly nimble for being so large. Without thinking, you raise your hips to his touch. Fuck, why not? He can see you and smell you, he has access to every part of you, what could you possibly hold back? You’re splayed across All Might’s lap, raw and wet and needy from him spanking you and you want more. 

He dips down in between your legs, teasing the slickness between your labia. You whimper, only for him to withdraw, and trace the curve from your lower thigh, up your ass, down your back. The abused skin is overly sensitive; you can only imagine how red it must be. 

“Maybe I won’t let you come,” he says, his thick fingers finding and plucking at the nub of your clitoris and then deserting you. “I can smell your arousal. I can see it. Your cunt is soaked. It’s all over your thighs. Maybe I’ll send you home like this. Or— it’s the middle of the day. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

You barely manage a moan— please, please. He slaps your inner thigh. “I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes! I left early when I found your phone number. I missed chorei.”

“How unprofessional.” He makes a tsk. “What would your coworkers think if they saw you right now? What would they think if they saw you getting spanked? They’d see that you liked it, hmm?”

You choke out a defeated sound. 

“Tell me,” he says. “What would they say if they saw you, what would they call a girl who’s begging All Might to finger fuck her?”

The thought is mortifying. Your life would be over. You’d probably have to leave the country.

“I know what I’d call you.” His tone turns rather playful. “I’d call you a slut.” 

You want to deny it, but your body betrays you.

“Say it.” he presses, his fingers skillfully coaxing you to relinquish any remaining dignity. “You know what you are, girl. Say it.”

“A slut!” You wail, writhing to seek his touch. “I’m a slut!”

He rewards you with his thumb in your cunt and the heel of his palm against your clit; you rock against him wantonly. At last, at last… you hear the rumble of his voice, faintly, outside your cries. He purrs your name as you orgasm on his hand, pleasure and relief flooding you, drowning everything else. 

After a time he rights you, cradling you on his lap. You enjoy leaning against his chest, hardly daring to move for fear that you might end this bliss too soon, even though you still feel the hardness of his arousal against your ass, and it’s as big and intriguing as the rest of him. You find rest in his embrace, in the even rise and fall of his breathing. It puts you at ease a little too much, because the photo of the elderly couple catches your eye again and you ask about it.

“This isn’t really your apartment, is it?”

“...No.” 

“Who are they?”

He huffs angrily, like a bull. “Have you ever heard of the hero Beacon?”

As a matter of fact, you have. You remember most heroes and villains based on their dossier stats, which you repeat aloud. He’s a small-time up and coming hero, with a solid C-rank quirk called Shine, he’s had some success despite not really standing out in any one area—

“I killed him,” All Might interrupts you.

You draw back to look him in the face. He isn’t lying. You just want to see what someone looks like when admitting to murder. 

“They were his parents.”

“Were?”

“They financed every step of his career,” he snorts, twisting the word sarcastically. “Paid his way into U.A., paid for a prestigious internship spot, paid so he passed his licensing exam, paid to get him a work-study, paid for his placement at a top agency. The kid had no business being a hero.”

“The Aoyama attack,” you say quietly, suddenly remembering. “But— there was only one fatality. What about his parents?”

If All Might has a curious reaction to your good memory, he doesn’t show it. “They came after me. They found me.” He doesn’t have to say any more. 

You lay your head against his shoulder, feeling strangely little guilt about enjoying the opulent surroundings, and even less about snuggling All Might. He’s… well… practical. Refreshing. And his hard cock is still trapped against your bottom. You wiggle a little bit, prompting him to grunt. “Enough of that.”

You throw your arms around his neck—“don’t you want...?”— and he pries you off just as quickly, standing and dumping you off his lap.

“No. Don’t mistake this for anything more than the discipline you needed.” 

You give a pointed glance down at his crotch, where his obvious desire bulges in his trousers, and then you notice the wet spot you’d left. 

He notices too, but doesn’t comment on it. “Make yourself decent. I’ll call you a car.”

The dismissal stings. More than that, it’s a feeling you can’t quite describe. That night in the alley when he had accidentally shown you his true form, and then deserted you. It feels the same as that night. Bitter and grasping. It is worse to be sent away than paid the compliment of his attentions. 

You smooth your skirt down over your ruined pantyhose. Those are a lost cause. You’ll have to go back home again, and by the time you get there half the day will have gone by. Might as well not go back to work. Not like you’d be able to concentrate, anyway. Is this going to be the end of it? Will you ever get to see him again? You sneak a glance up at All Might; he catches you looking. 

“What?” He snaps. 

He certainly has a way of reducing you to a blushing, stuttering teenager. “Is this— uh, am I allowed to… can I call you?”

He laughs in your face, with little mirth. “No more lies, girl. If you want this again, send a damn text message and fucking admit it. And don’t wear panties. Next time you enter my presence, raise your skirt and show me your bare cunt so I know why you’ve come. Now go. Old man Arai is downstairs, he’ll drive you wherever you want.”

With great reluctance, you collect your purse and leave, riding the elevator down from the penthouse to the first floor. Mr. Arai is there in a black town car. Both here, and when he drops you off at your apartment building, he gets out and shuffles around to open the door for you and you accept gratefully. It’s only 11:30, you realize.

“Could you wait for five minutes?” You ask him. “Could you drive me back downtown?”

You are loathe to go back to work, especially with your thighs sticky, your backside burning, and your core pulsing, but if you confine yourself to your apartment for the rest of the day you’ll go crazy thinking about All Might. It had been a little less than three hours with him. Three hours and he had reduced you to a quivering mess. You freshen up as best you can, pitching your ruined pantyhose in the trash and wiping the smudged makeup off your face. By the time Mr. Arai delivers you at your office building, you’re already scheming about how soon would be too soon for that text. And you resolve to put Mr. Arai on your Christmas card list, if you ever get to see him again.

***

Link to part 5.

Tags:

@smokindoinksinthejungle @may-machin @brolyfangurl-istandwithvic @world-dominating-kitty

[dailyaudiobible]

01/17/2021 DAb Transcript

Genesis 35:1-36:43, Matthew 12:1-21, Psalms 15:1-5, Proverbs 3:21-26

Today is the 17th day of January welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I am Brian it is wonderful to be here with you today as we…well…we are through the center of the month but we reach out and twist the knob and throw open the door and here's a brand-new week for us waiting for us. And I love that imagery, like I love thinking about this every beginning of a new week because it's like nothing's happened yet. We haven't screwed anything up yet. We haven’t made any wrong decisions yet. Like, everything is out in front of us and we can choose to apply what we've been learning for these last couple weeks, that there is the voice of wisdom and she is calling to us and she is pointing the way if we’ll slow down and pay attention to the fact that every choice that we make leads somewhere and does something. So, when we start to build our lives on wisdom by making small but wise choices systematically over time, we are moving on the path of wisdom toward becoming wise. And, so, let's do that this week, let's live into it. It's not something's that’s happening to us. It's something we are happening to. We don’t have to live reacting to everything that comes our way. We can decide in advance what the posture of our heart is going to be no matter what comes our way. So, welcome to a brand-new week. Of course, we’re just going to pick up where we left off yesterday as we continue our journey. This week we’ll read from the New International Version. And today Genesis chapters 35 and 36.

Prayer:

Father, we thank You for Your word. We thank You for what is being spoken over us as we begin this brand-new week from the book of Psalms and from the book of Proverbs, practical straight up clarity. Who gets to be in…who gets to be in Your presence? The one whose walk is blameless who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from their heart, who’s tongue utters no slander, who does no wrong to a neighbor and casts no slur on others, who despises a vile person but honors those who fear the Lord, who keeps an oath even when it hurts and does not change their mind, who lends money to the poor without interest, who does not accept a bribe against the innocent. In other words, who doesn't take advantage of the vulnerable. Thank You for that clarity. Thank You that we can revisit this and overlay our lives and allow Your Holy Spirit to reveal avenues of growth for us. We thank You for what is spoken in the Proverbs today, a plea to not let wisdom and understanding leave our site. Don’t let them out of our…like…like a little child we would not let our little child out of our site. We have to hold onto wisdom and understanding in the same way and preserve sound judgment and be discreet because that will bring life to us. You're giving us clarity. If we will believe this then these are the things to pursue because these are the things that lead to life. According to the Scriptures they are an ornament to grace our neck. We’ll go on our way in safety and our foot won't stumble if we won't let wisdom and understanding out of our site. When we lie down, we won't be afraid. Our sleep will be sweet. We won't fear sudden disaster. We won't fear the ruin that overtakes the wicked because we will know that You are at our side and You will keep our foot from being snared if we won't let wisdom and understanding out of our site. Help us to not let wisdom and understanding out of our site, so that we might be blameless before You. And we realize this is a gift. We realize we can't earn this, but we also realize that we have to participate. We have to participate in being transformed and our participation is to surrender to Your will and Your ways and walk the path. And You’re showing us the path that leads to life. May we walk it. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, its home base, and like I say every day because it is, it where you find out what's going on around here.

It's how you get connected via social media or through the Prayer Wall. It’s where the Daily Audio Bible Shop is. There are a number of valuable resources that really coincide with the journey that we’re on to either take the journey deeper or wider or…or just simply to belong. Like, there’s a whole Global campfire line of stuff that just lets us feel connected in a tangible way to each other knowing that we’re moving through the Scriptures together on this journey. So, check those resources out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can also do that at dailyaudiobible.com or within the app. So, using the website there’s a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or, if you prefer the mail, the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, of course, as always, we are a community. We love on each other. We pray for one another. We catch up with each other. We move through a year of life together and we follow each other stories. And, so, if you’re shouldering some things that are a little too heavy for you or on the other side of that if you're rejoicing because your burden is light, and you want to give glory to God for that then reach out let us know. Just hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hello. Hi this is my first time calling for the Daily Audio Bible. I am so thankful to be a part of this community and my father recommended this to me and I am so happy. I wanted to call for Zinab. She just had a beautiful story and I wanted to say that that we are praying for you and we’re so thankful that you have come to Christ. Thank you. I also wanted to call for a young lady who called about her college, her last semester and how she wanted to get through the Bible in a year. We’ll be praying for you. I will also ask if you could all pray for me. I have experienced a lot of anxiety this past year and I would just ask that you could pray for me this year 2021 to get through it with faith in Jesus Christ as God’s son that  I would just really get through this year. Last year was difficult I know for all of us. My life was definitely a lot better than other people experienced for 2020 but I know it could have been better. Thank you, so much.

Hi DAB family it’s His River and Rain here calling from the UK. I just wanted to say a happy new year to you. It is currently the 12th of 0January but I just want to say a big happy new year. I hope it’s treating you well. But recently God has…God has been on the move, He’s been moving, not in a way that we expected. But one of my friends from church her sister have recently collapsed. She collapsed on Sunday. And, so, from Sunday until now she’s been in a coma and the doctors are very…quite pessimistic about it saying that she might not survive. But from…with her family and the churches that, you know, her family is a part of the Lord we’ve all just been praying. We’ve been praying so hard praying on worship and…and having different prayer meetings. I mean even though we can’t gather, you know, this is a crazy thing, you know, but even though we can’t…we cannot gather we’ve been having so many zoom meetings to just pray together. And the doctors, as I said, the doctors said she might not survive or she might not recover and be, you know, severe brain damage but God has just been sending so many miracles and what we’ve prayed for has just come to pass. You know, she’s moved her hand and she has taken a few breaths and then we’ve heard a couple of hours later that now she’s extending her arms and extending her legs and trying to cough. So, I just wanted to just ask for more prayer, more prayer for her, full recovery because we know God can do it. And I just want, you know DAB, my DAB warrior prayer warriors just to be part of this and to pray alongside us all because I know that you guys are good.

Good morning DABbers this is God’s Little Princess in East Texas. My name is Nikki but my first name is Deanna that means God’s little princess. I’m a few months new to being a DABber. I’ve encouraged…I’ve been encouraged by it tremendously. I’ve encouraged two friends to join me and they have. Another friend is the one who got me listening to DAB. My husband David is 61 and he’s in the hospital with Covid. Up and down every day. Different news all the time. I’m finally after 10 days and our second hospital understanding in this crisis what “be still” means. Please pray for mine…from my husband’s mind, my three children, they’re grown, my three grown…grandchildren, for our emotions to run to God. It’s one night good, one morning bad or vice versa. I just now, which is yesterday, got off the roller coaster and planted my feet and heart and my mind on the rock. We don’t know what will be in the future. We don’t know how this is gonna go. But I’m clinging to what God spoke to my heart. We have lots of prayer support here, tons actually. I’m so thankful. But I felt I wanted you all whom I love hearing pray and encourage and put your lives out there to get to know me and cover me as well. Brian, my nerves are really raw my emotions are raw but I’m so grateful for all of you. If you would just pray for my husband and for us…

Hello, my dear Daily Audio Bible family this is Maria Missionary in Mexico. I’m calling today with a heavy heart for my friend Glesel. Glesel and her husband Jonathan they are our personal friends, and we all attend church together here and I’m their daughters, their two daughters Sunday school teacher. They got the news this year that they’re going to have another baby, actually last year. And they were…they were so excited to find that out and then they got the really hard news that the baby is a large growth on its neck back and head. It’s been a really hard year for the Glesel. Her grandfather then man who raised her died. Other family member or two I don’t remember had surgeries. It’s been really difficult. And now there’s this and it just feels very heavy and difficult. I told her about the Daily Audio Bible and that we could pray for her if she wanted me to. So, she said, “yes. Please.” You know, she said it would be fine to post this prayer request. Well, I’m gonna pray for our friends our…our brother and sister and I asked that you pray along with me family. Padre Celestia, we just want to come before You today thank You for Jonathan and Glesel and their daughters. Thank You for this new baby that You’re forming in her womb. Lord You are the great healer, the great physician and this is not a problem for You. And we just ask that You would touch this little life and heal this baby and may it be glorifying testimony to You Lord and Your power. We pray for peace and joy in the midst of this circumstance for Johnny and Gelesie. __...

Hi good morning my name is __ from Nigeria and I’m glad to be part of the Daily Audio Bible even if it’s just been 12 days this year. Actually, calling to…I mean I’ve heard…I’ve also been able to pray with others but I’m at a point where I need a lot of strength, you know, to get through this year because __ decisions here in the UK trying __ by myself. So, just praying for strength to get through this and for all of this to make sense, you know, life in general at the end of the day. So, thank you very much and thank you for this platform.

This this is Candace from Oregon. I want to speak to people who lost loved ones unexpectedly. It’s been almost 4 years as many of you will remember when I lost my husband very unexpectedly. It was March 11, 2017. This community came around me in…in an incredibly loving way and held me up during that time for which I am deeply grateful. So, I want to speak to everyone who’s mourning. I know that for me it was like having half my body blown off. I had had a relationship with this man that I loved so dearly and who loved me for 41 years. And only in the last two years, two or three he had become finally someone who really walks really close with Jesus something he always wanted but finally was actually experiencing for himself. Lord I pray that You be with all these dear ones. I know that for me the first year was hard and the second year was really hard for just like a whole new set of reasons. Human beings are so complex Lord. We were fearfully and wonderfully made by Your hand. So, please be with these dear ones who are in grief and mourning. I pray that You would help them to either call into us and or call others who can grieve with them and love on them and give them support, and most of all I pray Lord Your Holy Spirit, Your healing power to come and surround them on every side and help them to…

[tarralin]

Job Done

Fox Hunt, Chapter Three

(Board gifted by @under-sengoku-skies)

Find links to Master List, Ao3, and Ko-Fi in blog bio!

Enjoy!

~☆~

The meeting dredged by antagonizingly slow. Report after report after report was recited to the group and detailed discussions were had on everything from ration availability to civilian morale. MC had refilled everyone’s tea cups twice by the time they finally moved onto the subjects of troop training and battle tactics.

“We have the numbers to stand against any attack,” Ieyasu eyes turned downcast as he continued his report. “But the men are discouraged, and morale continuously slips day by day. Masamune has explored several options to keep their spirits up to no avail.”

“When were they last given time off?” MC hadn’t meant to voice her inquiry but suddenly her troop management instincts reared into gear. Unfortunately, they decided to activate during a male only council and the meeting halted to stifling silence. “My father was a general in my homeland's army and I thought I had an idea. I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“Did your father ever ask for your council?” Ieyasu’s harsh question grated on her nerves like nails on a chalkboard but still she held her tongue, not wishing to draw any more negative attention.

“Ieyasu,” Nobunaga snapped at the fawn haired warlord before turning eyes back to MC. “What do you mean by ‘time off'? We are preparing for war, there is no time for laziness.”

“But what happens in the middle of battle when the men forget what they're fighting for? When exhausted and surrounded by death, does it not seem easier to wish for your own demise instead of fighting? Give them two days off a week and I guarantee you'll see their spirits lifted.”

~~~

Mitsuhide couldn’t believe the troops in front of him were the same men that had been here since recruitment. When he last saw them, no one of this group had managed to land a single hit on target after weeks of training and practice. They had indeed become dispirited and Mitsuhide knew they had given up no matter the encouragement they received.

Those were not the men in front of him. These men strolled into camp ready for the day and struck each of their targets on the first shot. And the second. Granted, they all failed to hit center but at least the trees had been spared the onslaught today. So… progress.

“Fire,” Mitsuhide commanded. Ten bullets blasted into the ten targets, sending a flurry of hay in the air to mix with the haze of spent gunpowder.

“Excellent!” The riflemen scrambled to their feet as the booming voice of their leader, Nobunaga, signaled his approach from across this field. “Mitsuhide, I swear you could turn even the talentless into marksmen!”

“And here I didn’t think you were one for flattery. Careful or it’ll go to their heads,” Mitsuhide smirked as he nodded to the men still ramrod straight at attention.

“Relax and reload,” Nobunaga barked to the group as he threw a glance over his shoulder. “Satisfied? Or do you wish to patronize him as well?”

“Satisfied,” MC sidestepped into Mitsuhide’s view. “But not impressed. If I sounded patronizing earlier, then I guess I wasn’t clear enough in my insults. I’ll have to remedy that in the future.”

“Ah, dear Chatelaine,” Mitsuhide grinned at Nobunaga’s obvious chagrin. “Come to view the fruits of your input?”

MC rolled her eyes in that delightful way he was beginning to enjoy. “I already knew what the positive outcome would be, but Nobunaga insisted on stealing me from my castle duties today so I’m making him pay.”

“After causing him so much strife at the last meeting? If I had known you enjoy inflicting pain so much, I would have suggested our Lord place you in the dungeons as an executioner.”

“I’m considering it after the morning I’ve had with her,” Nobunaga mumbled. “She did not cause me strife.”

“You argued with her in front of the council.”

“We were debating…”

“Until you were blue in the face?”

“It was a heated debate!”

MC remained silent during their back-and-forth, her gaze narrowed intently on the targets in the distance.

“Oh, here it comes…” Nobunaga murmured.

“Our Lord said these men have been practicing for nearly three months and yet he hasn’t witnessed any of them come close to the target until today. Exhausted or not, they should have nailed the bull’s-eye at least once… even if by accident.”

“Is there a point in that statement I’m not aware of?”

“Simply causes me to question the abilities of the instructor.”

“Oh,” Mitsuhide could feel his lips pulling into a sneer as he waved to the rifle line. “Please, dear Chatelaine, feel free to improve.”

He hadn’t meant for his words to come out as growl more suited to a wild beast, but that one comment of hers had greatly disrupted his inner calm he struggled so hard to maintain. The little harpy! One lucky contribution and now she thinks herself an expert of warfare? What does she know of it?

He also hadn’t meant for her to take him up on his sarcastic offer.

Confidently, she marched over to the rifle line after only a moment’s pause to square her shoulders and lift her chin, clearly insulted at the unspoken implication that she would shy away from such a thing.

“What’s the waif doing now?” Ieyasu questioned as he sauntered from the archer’s line.

“Mitsuhide’s job apparently,” Masamune laughed as he took up Nobunaga’s other flank. The gathered four observed the Chatelaine intently as she spoke to the riflemen. Her hands flew like butterflies in a flurry across the men’s bodies to correct their stance, gun position, and even instructed a new method on how to sight the target. It would be a lie to say Mitsuhide wasn’t intrigued more than he should be. She really did sound like she knew how to shoot, which begged the questions of how and where?

“Fire!” Her sharp command drew Mitsuhide from his inner musings. As a unit, the ten rifles released their bullets in unison… and hit dead center. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as the stunned silence seemed to ring louder the gunshots did. The riflemen were first to recover from the momentary shock once they realized where their bullets had landed and turned to congratulate each other before bowing to the Chatelaine.

Masamune broke into such boisterous laughter that he became incapable of speech. Nobunaga simply released an exasperated sigh. “They’ll be no living with her after this…”

Mitsuhide had been left speechless only twice in his life. The first time being his mother’s murder. The second instance when Nobunaga asked him to join the campaign.

This was now a third.

Mitsuhide wasn’t so uneducated in the cultures of the foreign lands as he allowed all to believe. He had gleaned a great deal of information from the western traders that arrived several times a year; mannerisms, political ideals, and even domestic concepts being among them. Many of the traders he interacted with believed women possessed a frail mind and weak constitution. Which, in turn, lead to the westerners keeping uneducated daughters until they could be married off. There was no societally accepted way this pilgrim should be as accomplished as she proved to be.

In the extremely short time since her arrival, she had changed the flow of the castle completely by whipping the maids into more effective workers, setting up consistent deliveries from the local farmers, even reorganizing the guards rotation to ensure complete coverage at all times. A woman of the highest nobility and prestige wouldn’t have been able to accomplish half of what MC has in such a short time.

Then there was the raw power the woman exuded. Always standing tall with squared shoulders and sharp blue eyes that seemed to withhold the ocean’s fury itself. Mitsuhide had witnessed for himself just yesterday the devastating scolding she inflicted upon one of the township's policing samurai after she caught him bullying one of the street children, only to turn around and soothe said child with a mother's coddling. It really was no mystery how her very word became an instant command.

No, he concluded. She is no pilgrim.

[jestbee]

June 8: A Bad Day

[deebormzone]

Deep Breath

It’s been about a month since The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild came out, and I haven’t said anything about it yet.

I beat the Wii U version of the game. I’m staying away from the Switch for now since the console has a few technical issues and almost no games. If they clean up their act a bit, it’ll probably be worth it during the holidays alongside Mario Odyssey.

Here’s what I thought about the wildest Zelda game yet.

Is it the best Zelda game? The question comes up fairly often.

I think it has to be. It’s the biggest, but also the most detailed, a huge world built to be explored. The only way an older Zelda game can top it is if you’re ranking them based on their quality “for their time”, and I only care about whether a game is good right now.

It’s very different from the usual Zelda format, which was largely unchanged since Link to the Past. Some have said it’s not a Zelda game at all, but if the essence of Zelda is exploration, Breath of the Wild does a better job of capturing that essence than the rest.

When I started the game, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt. It seemed a little basic, and I wasn’t feeling as enthusiastic as the previewers leaping at the chance to climb stuff. On the contrary, climbing felt like a slow hassle. But things picked up once I made it off the plateau. I may have just been bored by the parts I had already seen.

Once the game had really started, everything was golden. I had loads of fun running around, fighting tough enemies, cooking various types of skewer, and engaging in my number one most favorite video game activity: gettin’ stuff. Some people hate the weapon durability, but not me. Low durability means weapons everywhere, which means more gettin’ stuff. It’s similar to one of my favorite games, Dead Rising, which is one of the reasons I was looking forward to Breath of the Wild so much.

As an extra treat, the world of Hyrule is more fleshed out than ever. All the characters have proper names and unique dialogue. The races (Zora, Goron, Korok, Rito, Gerudo) have beautiful settlements and full sets of equipment and weapons. The Gerudo in particular have gone from being reclusive bandits to having one of the nicest settlements in the game. There are plenty of little moments across the world that are great fun to experience, a couple of favorites being attacks by Yiga clan assassins, the sidequest to build a new town, and the appearance of the blood moon.

Despite all the good to be found in Breath of the Wild, some parts got on my nerves. Shrines, for example. Whenever I found a shrine, I was punished by having to solve a puzzle. I know it’s not kosher to complain about puzzle-solving in a Zelda game, but in this one they’re just roadblocks in the way of fun adventuring. Worst of all are the “apparatus” shrines, which force you to use motion controls to rotate the environment. I like playing with the Pro controller, and whenever an apparatus comes up, I have to go across the room to get the Wii U gamepad. Then the controls are floaty and awful. There’s no reason not to let me tilt the apparatus with a control stick, Monkey Ball style, but they just had to shoehorn in their shitty gimmick. They use it infrequently, but it’s always a letdown when it shows up.

Stasis challenges also bug me. These are physics-based puzzles requiring you to freeze a boulder or something, then hit it with your weapons to send it flying. The trouble here is twofold: it wastes weapon durability, and the boulder’s direction is based on your imprecise position and direction. My response is to avoid using Stasis whenever possible, and I have to give the game credit for allowing alternate solutions... sometimes.

The game feels weakest when forcing specific playstyles. The low point of the whole game, for me, was a stealth-escort mission in the Korok Woods. I usually don’t bother with stealth in any game because it’s slow. Breath of the Wild has a well-developed stealth system, and the best thing about it is that I can ignore it completely and fight with honor instead. The Korok escort, however, is very slow, and there is no escape.

I was a bit let down by the game’s ending, which was a standard “you saved princess. youve winner” ending. Maybe it’s foolish to expect anything more from this series, but it seemed abrupt after all the visions of the past fleshing out Zelda and Friends. Also disappointing: this game’s Ganon has given up on being a character and has decided to be a large spider instead. I guess we all feel that way from time to time, but Calamity Ganon is not very interesting. A shame, but there are so many other interesting folks in the game that it isn’t a huge loss.

Something unfortunate happened once I had finished the main plot: the game didn’t feel as fun. I didn’t get nearly as much pleasure from exploring because nothing held any value. Wearing a full suit of upgraded Soldier’s Armor kept enemies from being able to hurt me. The cooking system, a joy at first, became dull as soon as I realized the best recipe is always one radish plus anything. Maybe it’s just me?

Now, I’m especially interested in the game’s Hard Mode. It’s being added this summer as paid DLC, which is pretty scummy unless real effort goes into building it. My cynical side (I don’t actually have any other sides) is sure it’ll be a hack job with higher damage numbers, but if they’re charging for it there’s a small chance they’re preparing something special.

How special? Here’s a Hard Mode idea I’d pay for: Play as Zelda. Reverse the plot, sealing Link in Hyrule Castle while Zelda sleeps. She’s about the same size and build as Link, and they even wear the same clothes half the time. Making her playable shouldn’t be much of a stretch from a modeling perspective. Besides other Hard Mode changes, Zelda isn’t combat trained, so playing as her would naturally be harder. Give her the chance to forge her own path, just like she wishes in Link’s memories. Loads of people have been asking for it. There’s even a precedent: entering your name as Zelda activates Hard Mode in Zelda 1, and Breath of the Wild takes a lot of inspiration from that game.

Princess Difficulty is such a perfect fit that it almost feels inevitable, but it would screw up their obligatory princess-rescue plot and also ruin all their Hilarious Jokes™ in which Link dresses as a woman. So Hard Mode will probably just be bigger numbers for $20.

Breath of the Wild is most fun as an under-geared, wimpy hero fighting to survive against a dangerous world. My favorite part of the game was Eventide Isle, which takes all your equipment and makes you start from scratch. I was sad to learn it was the only challenge of its kind. How about a game made up of a hundred Eventide challenges? I’d be down for that.

Speaking of which, now that I’ve finished Breath of the Wild, I’m curious about where the Zelda series will go next. BotW feels like a new era, and director Aonuma has said future titles will use a similar open-world structure (which he calls “open-air” because Nintendo loves making shit up). So what’s the next step on this new, airier path?

It might be a mistake to wish for a revisit of the old during a time of new beginnings, but I will anyway: this would be a great time to revisit Majora’s Mask. Breath of the Wild’s detailed open world would pair well with Majora’s scheduled events, adding a fourth dimension to exploration. It could also let me indulge my love of starting over with nothing! Do regular people like that sort of thing too?

To recap... Breath of the Wild is a breath of fresh air for an old series, and I’m sure loads of game journalists have used that metaphor already. Its few flaws are eclipsed by hours of raw adventure. It’s a great game, sorely needed after some mediocre titles, and I’m excited to see what Nintendo does next.

[witchypoooh]

Wolf In Lambs Coat

I met the devil on a scorching summer day while my brothers skinny dipped in the nearby pond with pretty older women. Despite them being all juniors in college they had great big muscles and good lucks so girls no matter what age swooned over them. They had our mamas looks, large dewy brown eyes and olive toned skin that made them look like they glistened in the sun. Meanwhile I had gotten most of my looks from my daddy, a slim and tall man with dark slanted cat-like eyes and pale skin. I was a junior in high school and despite being 17 at the time I stood tall at 5’9 and lacked the attributes that boys my age drooled over. My hair was long, dark and glossy, perhaps the only thing I’d gotten from my mother and my lips thin and red like a ripe strawberry.

We weren’t very well off, we lived far away from neighbors and the city. Looking at our surroundings you’d think the dust bowl never settled. Our shack of a home sat on a lopsided hill and whenever the wind blew we feared our house would blow with it. We only had three bedrooms so my two older brothers split one room leaving the third to the living room couch. I had my own room due to mama telling the men in the house that women needed privacy. I agreed of course despite the fact that all I did was read and talk to myself in private, because what girl didn’t want her own space?

On that hot day I sat on a dusty bank not far from our shack watching from a distance as my brothers splashed around the cool moss covered pond with two middle aged and pretty curvaceous women. They both worked at the pharmacy a ways into town and always gave them bedroom eyes when we came in to get mamas medicine. It didn’t take the boys long to realize the two bleach blonde women were making eyes at them. They exchanged numbers and ever since then you could hear distant splashing coming from the pond behind our home every day. The laughs and screams as they dunked the women into the water playfully. And when the hot sun began to sink below the sandy hills I went inside because that’s when they’d get all touchy feely.

It was around noon now, and the sun was high in the sky causing sweat to trickle down my temples and hit the corners of my lips. My hair was up in a wild bun held together by mamas favorite headband and around my forehead soaking up majority of the sweat was daddy’s orange bandana. I wore an old moth eaten shirt that had belonged to my brother to hide the short white shorts I wore underneath. My long legs caused the shorts to look way shorter than they were and they squeezed my thighs something vicious. It was way too hot to wear pants and the way the hot wind sent sand and dust fluttering through the air burned my arms and made them raw. We had no air conditioning and shared one single broken down fan and more than likely my mother was using it while cooking lunch.

So I sat there on the bank, rubbing sand off my arms and staring off into the distance. As the sound of laughs and joyed filled scream beat my eardrums silly. A weird feeling of jealousy overcame me and clutched my heart in its fist. Apart of me felt like crying, apart of me felt like dying. Though regardless of the feeling thumping in my chest as loud as my own heart I kept my eyes trained on the sandy road leading to the edge of town. And in that moment I heard the growl of an animal, it was big and feisty and angry and my heart pumped hard against my scrawny chest when I heard it.

No more than 4 minutes later the large body came rolling up against the high noon sun. It was black and shiny, a two wheeler with leather handles and seats. My poor little girl heart got to thumping wildly matching the growls of the beast riding up slowly. Riding the back of the beast was a mountain of hot desire and muscles bigger than I’d ever seen. I could see the dirt kicking up from the large, rough and hot wheels of the monster named Harley. The man riding it had dark eyes like my own but his were shaped like a doe’s.

He slowed the monster of a machine down as he came closer, billows of smoke left behind him and blocking my view of the splashing still going on just a ways past the shack we lived in. Apart of me was embarrassed as I tried to stick out the little bit of chest I did have. He looked at me like a baby he felt bad for and had found abandoned on the side of this very road. I would have felt more hurt than I ever have in my life had I not been too focused on the tuft of chest hair I could see faintly from behind the leather vest he wore. He was built as heavy and solid as the machine he sat upon and apart of me shivered though my face remained blank. Still, he just watched me, as his heavy boot nudged the kickstand down and rested against the sand.

The hot desert wind carried his scent to me despite us only being a few feet away and I breathed in deeply when it came. He smelled like women’s perfume and my daddies favorite cigarettes and apart of me felt jealousy spark into life. I was a little girl compared to him and he had had his fair share of women. My eyes narrowed even further than natural and a smile tickled the corners of his lips as if he could read my mind. In that moment I felt like we were some married couple having a silent argument. He would smile and I would swoon and remember why I’d fallen in love with him and we would ride off on the big beast he rode in on.

But this was reality.

His voice was what broke me out of my daydream. Thank god for the bandana around my head catching most of my sweat. I wasn’t sweating due to the sweltering temperature anymore but more so due to my nerves running wild like stallions. I remember that he spoke to me slow and measured, as if I wouldn’t understand if he spoke too quick. His voice was deep and baritone like an old jazz singer and it was clear her was from the Deep South. I felt my mind go abuzz as he spoke, though I understood everything he said.

“You ain’t no woman, no you ain’t.

Women have sins, and those ain’t no saints.

But the world is a devil, you’re next to taint.”

He spoke like a poem in that baritone voice of his. I felt like I was reading a romance novel, Gone With The Wind, Titanic maybe. All I knew for sure was that I was Rose and I oh so desperately wanted him to be Jack. He could smell my young desire from a mile away, I could see it in those dark shining coals he called eyes. That boyish smirk touched the tips of his lips again and I felt my heart give one solid knock against my chest. I was a goner in those glistening eyes, absentmindedly appreciating the sculpted jaw, high cheek bones and soft pink lips that made up his outer appearance.

“I’m a woman, I’m more woman than they are, my mama told me real women don’t gallivant with wild men.” My voice was soft and incredibly shaky as I said this. Apart of me wishes I was a woman gallivanting with the wildest of men. Maybe this man in front of me was the king of wild and I was his chosen woman. Except he didn’t see me as a woman, and that made me frown without realizing I was doing it. His eyes glistened over, and he stood up over his bike, his jeans were faded denim with raggedy holes tore in the knees.

He looked like the kind of rugged but handsome pretty boy biker I saw on the television late at night. I felt my breathing pick up and my heart begin racing inside my ribcage when I thought about those shows. Those were wild men that pretty women were happy and willing to gallivant with. Apart of my mind began wondering off, wondering if he was one of those wild men with quick silver tongues and quicker instincts. Then I began to wonder how long we’d been standing here, me ogling him and him staring at me as if I were some package to be unwrapped and investigated. I didn’t have enough time to look around, take in my surrounding when his voice ensnared me once again.

“I’m a nice guy, one to admire

Take it from me, I’m no liar

I’ve never liked to fan the fire.”

Smooth and buttery as if he gargled with silk and the finest linens every morning. If I believed in magic I’d thought I was being hypnotized by his voice. Till this day I don’t know why I got onto the back of that growling beast or why my brothers never noticed. He reached out a calloused hand and he took my soft ones, my long, slender fingers traced over the roughness of his palm and right then he gripped my hand. I felt a light whimper leave my lips and that sparked something in him because he smiled and pulled me closer. I could smell the cigarettes and liquor on his breath and the smell of peaches and strawberries from some bar crawler on his jacket.

I couldn’t help but to allow rogue thoughts to enter my mind. That bar crawler, the one who’d left her scent all over his jacket had done it purposely. She’d had a good time and she didn’t want others experiencing it. Then my thoughts began to wonder deeper and I thought just for a moment, maybe I would have some fun too. Maybe our minds had been linked during that moment because I could have sworn he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye. He was silent but his eyes gave me all the confirmation that I would ever need.

Before I knew it the wind was whipping through my hair sending it into a wild dance amongst the flying sand. Dust trailed behind us as my arms tightened around his solid waist. The hot leather burned my arms but that little girl heart of mines refused to let go. I pressed my cheek against this back, it was solid just like his chest and I felt myself shutter against the heavy machinery underneath us. It felt like gravity had given up on the two of us as we road quick and furious down the desert road. Faster and faster and the farther we got from the shack, the pond, the banks, the better.

The sun was coming down from its high when we arrived at a desolate plane of sand dunes each producing their own selfish tufts of dead grass. Far off into the distance when the heat caused the air to do wiggling dances was a cool lake shrouded under dead trees. The brown dry limbs curled and reached over the glistening water like demons fingers going in for the kill. I felt myself swallow the lump in my throat and I turned my dark eye on his. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lip as the sound of the beast finally quieted. In the silence my heart took it upon itself to beat like a war drum.

I couldn’t speak as that calloused hand reached out for mine once again. My fingers felt those rough palms, my heart hiccuped and I whimpered as he pulled me roughly towards the glistening waters. Images of the bleach blonde pharmacy workers flickered in and out of my mind’s eye like a television show on a bad television set. The sound of distant splashes and excited screams filled my ear drums despite the silence. I felt my sneakers plant firmly into the sand and that hard calloused hand let mines go. Without having realized I closed them, I opened my eyes.

I felt something new and unawakened stir in my belly as the sunlight gazed upon his solid frame. Surely I like the sun was enjoying the sight to behold. His sculpted back flexed and rippled with his every movement. The calm blue washed over his waist hiding what my eyes had never seen. Without speaking he looked to me and the words seemed to echo within my skull. The air was silent un-penetrated by his or my own voice but I knew exactly what to do.

It felt like second nature as the scenes from various movies raced through my head at lightning speed. A sweater tossed lazily to the ground and another following right after. The sound of springs underneath soft fabric coming to life. A shadow cast by the flickering candle, painted against the wall like a work of art. My belly dropped as the cool pool enveloped my feet first, then my legs and it slowly crawled upwards until it rested just above my naval. It was almost like being tucked in at night underneath the warmest cover.

His strong defined back faced me, his head turned subtly too the side as if commanding that I come into his sights. My slender fingers sent a trail of steaming water across the oval shaped scars on each side of his flesh. I felt him shiver underneath the touch and for a moment my fingers felt hot. As if they were dancing upon coals just taken from the fire. His dark tanned skin looked amazing underneath my pale and expertly dancing fingers as they did excellent flips and showy grand jeté’s. Finally he turned his body against the slow waves and his dark eyes looked upon me like a hungry wolf, I knew right then that my racing little girl heart was now a trapped woman waiting to be freed.

It felt as if time had slowed though I knew it hadn’t. When I finally came up for air the night sky was looking over us. Hours had passed and without the knowledge of it the sun had handed of its duties to the moon and the thousands of twinkling stars littering the night sky. They shone like diamonds over the desert, the sky as blue as the waters. I came back down then, looked him in the face as water dripped from his tussled hair into those eyes that seemed to get darker and darker every second. He had a tortured look on his face as I floated closer and closer, cupping my hand to his cheek.

Like innocence was bestowed it was taken away. My mama told me that flowers bloom, sometimes not right in front of you but in private. My father told me women gallivant without any worry or care for who they’re hurting. I was a flower who’d bloomed and in the process the innocence bestowed upon me has been ripped away. I was now a gallivanting woman without any care or worry about who I was hurting in the process. The stars seemed to smile down at my revelation as lips that tasted of molasses in the spring enveloped me in hot hurried warmth. When that warmth was replaced by the salty blue, those dark eyes looked down at me and swallowed me whole.

My arms splashed at the surface in frenzy as I came up for a breath. My lungs were burning and stinging as a hyenas laugh escaped my throat. Like jailed happiness I floated through the lake allowing the bake tree limbs to cover me in maccabee fashion. He chased after me like a hound dog chasing its prey and I reveled in it. I watched him transform into something otherworldly and those dark eyes devoured me once again. I felt myself falling far, drinking too deeply and floating through an ocean of honey.

Everything went black, a comforting but excruciating darkness.

I woke up two days later with a fever as hot as the July afternoon. My daddy sat at my side, old face blank and eyes distant. Above me was my mama clutching a bible and crying, babbling the Christ’s words over my damp forehead. The noise in the room pounded my eardrums savagely and I squint my eyes shut in agony. She cried harder, years of sorrowing escaping through two streams down her sculpted cheeks. I laid there still and silent with nothing to think or say or do.

The days passed like any other hot summer day. They are hot and long as the noon sun rises high into the sky sending sweat down my temples each and everyday. The familiar sound of splashing emerges from behind our shack of a home, the sound of the pharmacy women laughing and squealing. I know what they’re squealing about now, I remember. I remember my time underneath the hot sun and the cooling stars, and the hiccuping of my little girl heart turned wild. I remember my dark eyed bandit.

Now you know my story, but you don’t know what I saw. The form that take shape in that ocean of blue honey. The feeling of nimble fingers across ashen flesh and teeth against succulent bone. You don’t know what I’ve saw, what I’ve felt, and I’m sure my bandit doesn’t either. But if you ever run into my bandit, while sitting on a dusty bank in the desert next to your own shack, you remember these words. Swallow down the burning desire he brings forth, shield your eyes from what doesn’t belong to you and you remember these words.

“He ain’t no man.

He’s a liar.

He’s the one who starts the fire.”

When you remember these words you turn to him, and you look into those cool coals staring back at you. Tell him I’ll be waiting on the sand bank, staring out at the sun as it dips and twirls through the sky. I’ll be in the lake of blue syrup when the sun kisses the sky goodnight and gives it up to the moon. When the stars light up the desert and send cooling sandy wind through the air. You tell him I love him with all my little girl heart. Tell him I’ll be waiting forever.

You tell him I’ve seen him, I know what he is.

And then tell him I love him anyway.

—————————————————————

This is my first short story I’ve posted on Tumblr. Maybe if it gets enough attention I’ll post more.

[hollywoodtriangle]

WZ Forum Files #19: Where Does The Miz Rank As An Intercontinental Champion?

Design/Lay-Out Credit: A.B. Morales.

Welcome back to the WZ Forum Files!

Every now and then we’ll present a hot topic on wrestling for discussion in the WZ Forums. The topic will be open for a set amount of time and at the end, the best responses will be presented in an article here on the main site. We’ve already presented the topic and have the best responses right here.

Here’s the latest WZ Forum Files topic:

Where Does Miz Rank As An Intercontinental Champion?

Responses

From Wildcat66

If you had asked this question a few years back in say 2014-15: I would’ve said that he was a good, but not great champion that did his job as well as possible.

Now, in 2018: The Miz will go down in history as one of the top 5 greatest intercontinental champions in recent memory and a candidate for one of the best the title has ever had. So many great matches and feuds have come because of him: Dolph Ziggler, A.J Styles, Cesaro, Sami Zayn, Roman Reigns, the list can go on. Not only has he seriously stepped up his in-ring game to a new level: He has delivered some of the best promos of his entire career.

Add in a smoking hot wife as his manager who’s still going strong even after all the years and two cronies desperate to do his bidding, and you have one of the best gimmicks and champions WWE has seen in the modern era.

More Responses on the Next Page

From Hakushi

Hate to admit this, but I’d stack him at #1. I prefer Jericho, Hart, Piper and Henning, but Miz does his best to make the belt what it is suppose to be each and every time he possesses it. The only exception to this that I can see is when they turned him face.

Given the number of times and combined days he held the belt, along with his upper echelon feuds during the period, I don’t honestly know how he could rate any lower than 1.

Honky has him on number of days in one run, but due ttyl the era, in the 18 months he held it he defended a fraction of the times current stars do. Jericho has him on number of reigns, but Jericho also had quite a few short….really short runs with it.

Bret gave some classic matches with it around his waist, but was on the losing end of the most memorable ones (Perfect, Bulldog).

More Responses on the Next Page

From CyberPunk

I’d go out on a limb and say this: The Miz is the best Intercontinental Champion of this decade. In an era where IC title has become more and more irrelevant, Miz has not only kept it relevant, but has had some of the best programs for it. His number of reigns do not matter as much as the quality of IC title programs do. He’s better in the ring than most people give him credit for. He’s also gold on the mic in a time when performers are saddled with scripted, uninspired promo and more than half can’t hold there own while talking.

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From stingray11214

As someone who remembers Ted DiBiase holding the WWWF North American strap, as well as the night when WWWF “President” Willie Gilzenberg announced that Pat Patterson won a “tournament” in Rio for the Intercontinental Championship, the Intercontinental strap was bounded about for almost five decades. Many greats of Pro Wrestling have held that strap. Some made it great. Others did not. So, where does The Miz rank on the list of all-time greats to have held the Intercontinental Championship?

In my humble opinion, he would be somewhere near the bottom of my Top Ten. Pedro Morales, Don Muraco, The Honky Tonk Man, Warrior and Chris Jericho are my Top Five. Morales and Muraco would give the belt life. Honky Tonk would give it charisma and importance. Warrior would take it to the next level. Jericho made the belt in his era greater than what it became. Those in the Top Five you actually PAID to see. Do you pay to see The Miz? Sure, you hear him on Raw. You watch his antics. Sure, WWE is a very different company than it was back in Morales’ day. But, how many people will tune in JUST to watch the Miz? How many will buy a ticket to see The Miz. Morales and Muraco spent parts of four years over that strap. People PAID to see Muraco get called “Beach Bum”. People PAID to see Morales fight whoever up and down the Northeast. The Miz cannot say people paid or tuned in just to see him. Sure, he won the belt 8 times. He also lost it eights times. During a time when the Intercontinental belt has been diminished greatly since the days of Warrior and Jericho.

This does not mean that Miz does not deserve some praise. He does. He has made the Intercontinental Championship have some relevance in the greater landscape that is WWE. But, he is with the likes of The Rock, Rick Rude, Randy Savage and Pat Patterson in the second half of the Top ten, and not with the Morales’ and Muraco’s.

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now mailing Christmas cards :U ) scenes: photo 1: racheal recently saw claw smoking a huge cigar behind the prison, being a teenager she secretly stole some from claw and started to smoke. however claw noticed it has her and told cyrag, cyrag being a parent was outraged but strangely calm. as a punishment he grab his pipe and made racheal a deal if she can smoke as much as he can she can keep on smoking. in the long run she lost and gotten sick for weeks and now completely disgusted with cigars and smokes. photo 2: shadow beasts or what everyone else calls them "boogiemen" eat the souls of mortals, especially children. one tried to enter and eat racheal's soul but little did the beast known cyrag was in her arms at the time and..well you can guess the rest photo 3: cyrag hates getting pictures taken lol _________________________________________ revamp of cyrag~! new ref sheet! ________________________ Name: Cyrag victor ruthless Species: plushy dog gender: male city or town of birth: new hy'dron ((shadow claw ruthless settlement)) sexuality: straight enough Age: lived for quite awhile, lost count after he hit the triple digits Alignment: chaotic neutral leaning into lawful evil. ((alignment doesnt really apply to him)) Weapon/gear: salvaged: mini smoke bomb. good things do come in small packages ~gunner these little smoke bombs produces some of the biggest distractions and field covering smoke known in all of ooo~ courtesy of the smoke kingdom! however these smokes don't last very long so you have to be quick! corrupted tech: electro grenade don't activate indoors :U ~gunner this little babeh~ is your common corruption grenade. it acts mostly like a flashbang but with additional effects~ lets just say your enemy might be a tad bit "shocked" hehehehehehe, electric effects were off after a blink or two, however like most flashbangs the blinding effect will last a couple of seconds. crafted: charged..uhhhh charges! aka happy cyrag~ finally! home made fireworks! ~riku a marvel made from bombmaster riku himself~ something doesn't want to blow up? EASY! just set the timer, place it on the thing you want to blow and..KABLOWEY! shows a pixelated laughing cyrag at the end of the count down for effect. salvaged: explosive ninja stars ninja's are so great man ~gunner i dont think a explanation is needed for this one black market: corrosive darts OH NO! IM MELTING IM MEEEEEELLLLTINGGGG ~gunner got a big lug, beast, or tank with very hard to pierce armor? no problem! these corrosive darts can melt through even the hardest of armors! blackmarket guaranteed! theblackmarketwillnotberesponibleifsaidprojectcausesyourdemise plushy arms: standard issue military knife its old and rusty..not to mention it smells like chicken...and i don't cut chickens with this..~cyrag just your regular old military knife cyrag used when he and brown were left in the woods by stripes :3 alone..  GREAT PARENTING salvaged: throwing knives like carnies use? ~claw iron steel throwing knives for all of your long distance kills needs~ comes in packs! crafted: viper antivenom RACHEAL ANTIVENOM! NOW! ~cyrag vipers venom is potent enough to kill a fully grown man in under 49 minutes..it attacks the nerve system and the lungs at the same time..however thanks to racheals skills in poisonmancy she was able to develop an antivenom. which brown made for widespread use across the lands. plush arms: deathwatcher its more of a..ummm..show off weapon ~stripes a blade forged of pure ironsteal *cough*and a few other things stripes doesn't want to mention *cough* just for cyrag when he was still prince of the plushy kingdom. when a plushy prince or princess reaches maturity its proper for the plushy king to give them their first weapon in arms~ however cyrag isnt the sword type so he only uses it for show. however in his spare and alone time he does take it out of storage and begin to practice with it. it brings back good memories. blackmarket: spring loaded shoulderpads. how many of you thought cy's pads were fo sho? ~gunner blackmarket grade combat shoulder pads! because the best defense is the best offence. crafted: choker shhhshhhhshh..let it happen ~lois if you need something more cleaner then a knife to the back, then claw has your back~! its a common tool claw learned how to make in prison..sadly i dont need to explain why claw needed to use such a weapon..prison ya know :U medical: threads and needles please please please dont be a idiot..~paw needles and thread common medical tools for the common plushy~ legendary: number 41 twin corrupted claws. ask-theruthless.deviantart.com… weapons choose there owners..legendary weapons take that a tad bit to literal metal laced cape. given to him by his friend sherry sherbet for his birthday according to her this cape is laced with hard metals threads that can protect the user from some weapons, bullets, and the occasional explosive. cy send a small scrap of this cape to froggers to see if he can replicate it, mass produce it, and equip it as fabric implants for the plush army. Class: combat assassin stealthy. check, handy with all weapons. check, a ego large enough that it has its own gravitational pool, check. congrats you have the makings of a combat assassin~! a type of assassin that has knowledge about stealth but prefers to fight head on; face to face. utilizing every trick, trade, and tool in his or her arsenal to cause the demise of anyone who is unfortunately in his or her way. Occupation: loving father, currently jobless due to personal reasons. Height: 7.1 Voice:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=kwfuKv… Theme: Relationship status: happily married to the assassin usha :U Status: alive and laughing at everyone who tried to kill him. currently living: deep in the winter lands; in the ruthless estate. native language: plushy languages known:  oooian, plushy, Spanish, demonic ((has a heavy accent; only words that he remembers "may i use your bathroom?")) Quote: "SCREW! OOOOFF!" (fluffy: "come laugh at my face then!" he lets off a light growl until cyrag gladly complied and rushed to the generals face. cyrag: "ha..ha...ha.." fluffy: "gr-great see now w-we can laugh to-together..") "DAMN IT GUNNER!" "SHUT UP GUNNER!" "you have five seconds...to apologize to me AND sew the scratch your weapon left on my check..if not...well atleast you'll make great penguin feed." "what do you mean i left you in the mall!" Extra fact: cyrag is a vegetarian; due to the fact that meat becomes less than pleasant to look at when you see in raw in your line of work extra fact 2: he never curses at gunner. hence you never expect him to say "shut the "hell" or "fu" up gunner". just "shut up gunner" extra fact 3: in his free time he likes to do gardening or sunbathe. extra fact 4: he gloats..alot Likes: his family His clan His friends ((to a point :U)) Tofu Rapping ((ask about that I dare you lol)) random organized fighting money ((omg give him the greens`!)) trophies Professionalism cooking gardening ((lol ask about that to ;3)) testing his own strength rich sheet Dislikes: Snakes When a plan goes horribly wrong Thinking in the middle of a fight Meat Abadeer gunners and Brown’s stupidity ((infact stupidity in general)) Doing jobs for free ((even if it’s for a friend)) Scammers fighting for any others enjoyment except for his own ((tournaments and other things like that)) Humans…((oh crud he hates humans as much as he hates snakes. )) Strengths/Powers/skills: plushy strength plushy people are very very naturally strong despite of there fluffy stature. this is because of their strong will, this will is converted to physical strength by the plushies' soul. however how much they can lift depends entirely how much will a plushy has. but despite being extremely willful cyrag has a stitch deficiency; this causes him to rip easily when he uses his to much of his physical strength. shock absorption due to a plush fluffy body they can absorb most physical blows making fighting a plushy with fisticuffs a bad idea in general lol. however this goes the same for the plushy, if a plush punches you it will just feel like a pillow hitting your face, UNLESS they have implants that would make there punches hurt. cyrag has hard leathers implanted on his fists, elbows, arms, legs and feet. static electricity it can only be done if the plush is standing on a fluffy carpet or if there's another plushy next to him/her. since the plushy is made completely from fabric the static shock can be very strong, strong enough that if passed to another plushy it could temporally cut the link between the stuff animals body and soul causing temporary paralysis and dizziness. hand to hand combat master twin claw mastery~! dog senses despite racheal destroying his sense of smell when she was still a infant, cyrag's still retains his profound sense of hearing and vision. corrupted static he can generate vast amounts of static electricity increasing his speed, strength, and overall power. however this corrupted static energy effects his own mentality making him more corrupted and bloodthirsty so to speak. to keep this from happening cyrag keeps a anti-static collar that suppresses this power. however once remove it will released the suppressed energy in a large corrupted burst of energy. this collar must not be removed in closed spaces.   Weaknesses: fire fabric+fire= ash water water can clean a plush BUT it will make him/her sluggish and slow until he/she dry. to much water can lead to fabric breaking apart and stitching moving out of place. negative emotions to much of it and a plush will start feeling drain and weak due to it draining his/her soul the nightosphere due to the chaotic energy in the nightosphere a plush can be drained to the point of death, the time it take depends on the plushy. all browns cant sorta? fly even tho he is adopted, this was sorta passed down to him. he tends to get air sick. a huge ego :U not really a weakness. anything that can destroy fabric really be creative lol if you give a ruthless some cash. he will spend everything in your bank account. five people used to live in the ice kingdom..now all the family resides in the mansion. with crest there, they are effectively spending less money when only five people lived in the household. Figure/Build: thin, slender, well built for killing Hair Color: black/brown Eye Color: dark green Scars/Distinguishing Marks: cheek scar and a heart patched on his chest. Hobbies: gardening, cooking, and target listing Summary bio: former prince, assassin, Family man, clan leader, and a bit of an ass; these are words that describe this vegetarian assassin. Unfortunately cyrag is very very hard to befriend, he usually doesn’t trust anyone until they proven themselves to him. If you do befriend him and his family then you'll have a very very strong ally that commands even stronger allies! but if your unlucky enough to make him one of your enemies AND attack his family then it will suck to be you.. If you’re an enemy and he hasn’t attacked you to teach you a lesson then he is just trying to get information on you by any means necessary this includes spying, computer info, surveillance, interrogation of your love ones, and acquiring a bargaining chip. so ya not the best guy to mess with. despite being the adopted son of stripes and brother to the plushy king, he isnt in speaking terms with the kingdom associates. banned from the kingdom.. the only way for cyrag to visit his brother is viva sneaking around, brown twisting the laws, and outside of kingdom grounds. now in present times tension rises as sylas is behind bars, stripes and brown appealing to the plush council to repel the ban on cyrag and his family. but an uneasy arcanick can ruin this and raise tension between the ruthless and the plushy kingdom ((spoiler alert..he tots does and starts a small feud between the two. but more on that later :U)). this egotistic plush is now his own boss and still one of the worlds dangerous assassin!