#night night

jonasbro:

Nick Jonasin“Scream Queens” x

Sweet dreams to all the EBs out there!

obsob:

hoo hee funny little men 

these are the two genders

These sweet squirrels built themselves a nest on an apartment window ledge. What a great incentive to turn off the TV and just observe…’life’. 

In A Beautiful Place Out in The Country

“It’s about vulnerability.” That’s what he’d said to her, when she was on her knees and his were about her chest height. She wasn’t kneeling up straight, instead reclining on her feet, feeling her heels dig into her bum as she stared up at him. She could but nod.

“You’re putting so much trust in another person’s hands, and even if you could walk away at any moment, that’s just physical. It’s your emotional self that you’re baring, and that’s twice as dangerous.” His hand had wandered down to her face, fingertips grazing her cheek like bullets.

“Everything I do to you..” He had paused, and his hand had pulled back, pulled into an arc, before coming down to lightly pat against her face, the pale shadow of a slap. She still tensed, still gasped. The expectation without any of the pay off. “Everything I do is amplified tenfold by that vulnerability. You expose yourself to me, and I could thrust the knife in at any moment. That I don’t is why you stick around, that I could is why you squirm and sigh.” From any other lips, at any other time, the words would have made her roll her eyes, smirk, and walk away without any worry of investment lost.

But here, every one rang true, and she could do nothing but smile, and stay quiet, demure, wholly not herself. Or maybe herself, just without all the clinking clanking armour she’d constructed out of acerbic wit, sarcastic remarks and a cultivated nonchalance that could do a pretty good impression of aloof. 

His fingertips had patted against her cheek again, and he’d motioned her to her feet. “Come on, we’re going to take a trip.” He’d said, and a dozen questions had raced to her lips, each one barging the other out of the way to be first spoken.

The shortest got to the front first.

“Why?” He had looked almost confused at first. As if ‘where?’ was the only real option, and the why of it was inconsequential. But after a moment he’d shrugged, and smiled, and placed his hands on her shoulders. 

“If I could explain why, I wouldn’t need a where. Besides, surprises are more fun.” They’d kissed, and then wandered out the door.

And now here she was, in an empty field in empty countryside, a light shiver rushing through her half naked form. The stockings felt like they were clinging to her for warmth, not the other way around, and her underwear was purely decorative. She felt exposed, but the way he was looking at her was making her feel all sorts of wonderful.

“You asked me why. How do you feel?”

And then she laughed. And span around on the spot. She felt invincible. 

Tied and Tied Again

She wasn’t a good girl. Not completely. There wasn’t enough docile in her to allow it. Instead she’d fight back, a thousand little battles fought even though she knew she’d lost the war. As much as she wanted to surrender, some switch in her mind refused to allow it, refused to kneel and take it like a good little girl. Instead she made him fight for it, force her into a position where she had no other option.

The rope had wrapped around her hands like a challenge, and she’d accepted it with gusto. The muscles in her forearms tensed, binding just as tight as the rope that wound around them. His hands were fast, efficient, and utterly confident, moving with the kind of casual skill that comes from repeating an action a hundred thousand times. And when it was done, she had stared down at them, admired the knot, and tried to pull free.

He always smiled when she did this, and she did it every time. But whens he wrapped those bound arms around his head, pulling him in close to her, she made her bondage his, tying him almost as completely as he had her. They kissed, and she clung to him as he whispered in her ear, words like ‘Brat’, 'naughty’, and 'fucked’ falling like hail on a windscreen, a constant ratatat that was just as alarming as it was soothing.

She wasn’t a good girl. She didn’t have it in her. But he made her one. Every time. Wore down every last bit of resistance in her and made her surrender. 

Night night

petri-ch0r:

Hope you’ve got a friend on hand for today’s activity: off-brand mad-libs. 

Here’s a list of the word criteria for if you want to fill it out yourself:

Adjective
Item of clothing
Person
Plural item
Food
Adjective
Occupation
Food
Verb (past tense)
Person
Item
Place