fuck you, then.

fuck you, then

[inorationis-moved]

MOVED TO @dicodwell​

[dicodwell]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐓 !! PRI & SEL MULTIMUSE PENNED BY R’KID. feat. BETTY SUAREZ  && MORE. GUIDE.

[nessa007]

[salemwitchtrials-deactivated202]

Grief isn’t empty it’s black and material I’ve seen it / It’s a force, independent, and eats you while you’re sleeping,

Mysteries of Small Houses; I - Towards a Definition, Alice Notley (via salemwitchtrials)

[coffeeandmeditation]

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”

— Mr. Rogers

[inorationis-moved]

                                                          it’ll pass

[art-palace]

“My priest is here and he really needs some guidance.”

[inorationis-moved]

* velvetipped‌

“   right   – have   you  met   my   family?   ”   t here’s not   a chance in   hell that they’d   miss me and as harsh   as   it probably   sounds,  i’m     not   entirely    i’d    miss   them  either. when   mum  was    alive,       i’d   never  have    dared   to   miss   a  christmas   dinner  at   my   parents  house.   but   she  isn’t   - and  it’s   my    god-mother  who   runs the  show. i’m   sure  she’ll   live    with    one   less   person.      she’ll only   end  up  inviting   strangers  anyway.       “they won’t miss me.     they won’t even realise that   i’m not there.” and it’s sad   but   i’m used   to it. my   family life is   completely dysfunctional   and i’ve come to terms   with that. “  i want   to   spend   my christmas   with  you.  what’s   holier  than spending   the  holy  holiday    with   a priest? ” he’s  more   than   that -   i know.     he’s so much   more than that  collar and his title.      

“   well   you’ve   just shat   all   ove r my   plan now.     i    was  going to   be    the    one bringing   you  frankincense. ”     when  his  hand  comes    to a   stop  against  my  back, i can   feel   myself growing warmer. i  hope   he  keeps    it    there. in fact, i hope  he brings it lower and touches my bum  but   that’s   merely a   wish   that   i  know   won’t  ever   happen. at least,   not  in public.      “whatever   the hell   frankincense   is.”

god, he wishes he could argue her point, but he find himself at a loss. forced, slightly, to keep his opinions of her family to himself he simply nods gently. “ okay, okay, point very much taken, ” he smiles, pretending that he’s relenting when in actual fact he couldn’t be MORE pleased with this outcome. christmas with her. it sounded perfect.  he’s almost certain that he’ll appreciate her presence more than a few of her family members. “ well i want to spend my christmas with you too. ”  he laughs, “ fuck turkey sarnies though, i’ll cook. i’m a fuckin’ great cook. ” it’s true, despite the bragging, he just doesn’t do it often, particularly not when it’s just him and pam in the house. he’d be surprised if she wasn’t sick of his cooking by now. 

“ it’s a resin -- and it’s a frankly awful gift for a baby even in bibical times. “  he jokes.  “ then again i wouldn’t know what to give a baby. i’m awful with babies, truly the worst, they freak me the fuck out. ”  with his hand still on her back, he looks to her with a smile, “ but i’m sure you’d make a lovely wise man either way -- you are very wise. ”  the hand stays put on her back, committed to walking like this the whole way to her home. 

[inorationis-moved]

* velvetipped‌

                       “  for   a   second   there,   i   had   completely   forgotten   that   christmas   was,   indeed,   a   religious   event.  ”      i’m   not   even   pulling   his   leg.      the   true   meaning   of   christmas   seems   to   have   been   shat   on   by   capitalism.      we   think   of   it   as   spending   a   fortune   on   the   ones   we   love   and   eating   a   shit   ton   of   turkey.      forget   about   the   birth   of   christ.      “i’m   not   doing   anything   either.      you-know-who   is   hosting   a   dinner   at   my   father’s   in   the   afternoon   but   she’s   making   a   big   song   and   dance   out   of   it   that   i’m   sure   i   could   miss   it   and   nobody   would   even   notice.”      maybe   claire.      but   i’m   not   sure   she’d   miss   me.      “what   if   i   come   over   to   you?   once   you’ve   done   your   whole   church   business?   -   we   can   have   a   few   beers,   watch   deck   the   halls.”   i’m   trying   to   be   as   appealing   as   i   can   be.   “i’m   no   chef   so   don’t   expect   a   full   roast   dinner   but   i   can   make   a   few   turkey   sarnies   and   we   can   get   pissed   while   watching   shit   christmas   films.”   

                  is   it   a   bit   much?   asking   him   to   spend   christmas   with   me?   i   glance   at   him   to   catch   his   reaction   -   to   see   if   he   thinks   i’m   being   completely   ridiculous.   “and   if   you’re   lucky   -   “   i’m   pushing   the   boundaries   now.   “i   might   even   wear   a   skimpy   little   mrs   claus  costume   for   you.”      my   brow   raises   as   i   try   to   hold   back   a   laugh.   “or   would   you   get   more   worked   up   if   i   was   to   dress   as   one   of   the   three   wise   men?”   

“ happens to the best of us. ” comes his joking retort. before he’d fallen into this line of work, he’d often forgotten it. too caught up in the coca cola ads and christmas branded emails from companies he’d shopped with once. fuck, there had been a couple of years where he hadn’t even gone to church, but now he felt a lot better about the whole season. this job, this life, it provided him with a sense of purpose that was only further cemented during the holidays. -- even if he was spending them alone. but then, suddenly, there is a possibility that he won’t be alone after all. he smiles, surprised but wholly pleased. he wants to say yes, he SO badly does, but he finds his head shaking... albeit with very little conviction to it.  “ i - your family would miss you. i’d- i’d fucking love to spend the day with you but you should be with them. ”  a little hypocritical, given the fact that he’s actively avoiding his own family this holiday season, and he knows how easily he will bend should she put up even the slightest argument. he’s met her family, and though he would never admit it, he’d rather she spend christmas with him too. 

“ i don’t know what you think i’m into, “ he laughs, “ you know i’m actually quite a normal person. ”  normal. not cool. and definitely not into biblical figures. “ that said if you go for that -- do the one who brings gold. i won’t even let you in if you try to bring me myrrh. ”  through the two thick coats, his hand returns to rest on her lower back to stroke softly. to warm her up. but this time he doesn’t pull it away -- not even when his hand slows to a stop. 

[lovemomentsandlife]

“His world looked like a storm. I was going to be its center.” ― Kiera Cass, Happily Ever After

[inorationis-moved]

* velvetipped·

               my  jaw aches  from smiling  so much. but  i can’t stop myself  -   every time that he  speaks, i find myself laughing  and grinning like some sort of cheshire  cat. “i would pay to see you in booty  shorts.” that’s not even me taking the piss.  i bet his arse would look amazing in a pair of  tight pants.  as he takes off his jacket and wraps  it around me, i feel the need to protest. “it’s freezing  - come on, i’m alright. you need it more than i do.” but i don’t make a move to take it off because he was kind enough to  give it to me, so i should be thankful for that. the way his hand  rests against the small of my back gives me goosebumps - i think even  my goosebumps  have  goosebumps.  “what’s your  favourite bad winter  movie? - we have to watch  it.” 

when  his hand  drops, i can’t  help but feel just  a little bit disappointed.    put it back  there,  father -  i want to  say.     but i  don’t.     i just  look at him with  that smile that seems  to be reserved for only  him. “i don’t hate winter.    i’m not the biggest fan of the  weather when the pavements turn into  ice-skating rinks … but other than that,  i can agree with you. i love a tacky jumper  and chocolate is my main source of nutrients.”  i  could kill a bar of cadbury’s right now.    “i like  the spring best though. i love the flowers and the sound  of birds singing in the trees. i also like the fact that i  don’t have to wear tights with my dresses but it’s still cool  enough to wear a cute jacket.” not that fashion is something i’m  particularly bothered about. “what are you doing for christmas this year?  do you visit family? or will you be alone?”  

“ perhaps next summer. booty shorts are nothing without the crop top combo. ” he laughs teasingly. teasing her -- because frankly, she is fun to tease.   but his expression is far softer as he concerns himself with keeping her warm. fuck the cold, he can cope with that, he’s far to focused on her feeling as warm as possible. it’s not an act of love, of course he loves her, it’s because he’s a good friend. “ you’re not alright you’re fucking shivering, ” his tone his kind, if a little strict as he quickly shuts down her protest. "anyway, what kind of fucking gentleman would i be if i let you freeze out here?” he pulls down the sleeves of his jumper, and tightens the scarf around his neck. “ oh, that’s tricky. my favourite REALLY BAD one is deck the halls -- but my actual favourite is probably it’s a wonderful life, because i’m a fucking sap and it makes me cry. ”   then again -- so does the holiday. 

he smiles when he agrees with her. he likes it when that happens, her approval making him feel somewhat validated in his choices. he’d love to see her in a tacky christmas jumper. it’s a far cry from the sexy nun costumes she’d told him about earlier, but for some reason it gets a reaction just as strong, despite the fact that it comes from an entirely different place. the mental image practically warms his heart. “ spring is good, i’ll admit. the way everything changes colours and starts to bloom and all that. plus, hot cross buns. ” the winner of all seasonal treats, in his mind. as the conversation turns to christmas, his eyes leave hers for a second, briefly glancing down with a small chuckle. “ well, i don’t know if you know, but christmas is kind of a big deal in my line of work, ”  he looks back at her with a grin, but it fades slightly,  “ i have a service in the morning. but, uh, yeah. pam’s going to see family so, ah- it’s just me. ”  

[katrus-deactivated20130626]

Reblog if you truly enjoy following me.

[inorationis-moved]

* velvetipped‌

he’s such a gentleman.  look at him - holding out my coat for me.  if it was anybody else, i’d think he was being charming to get me into bed.  but not him.  it’s just the way he is - he’s just … so fucking kind.  “thank you.”  i get maybe a little too close to him as i slip my arms into the jacket, taking a reluctant step back once i’m done. and then i fasten it up, grab my bag and gesture to the door. “after you, father.”  he’ll shout at me for that, probably - but i don’t care.  it’s funny. 

we make our way out and step out of the building and it’s fucking freezing. i swear, my nipples are standing on ceremony.  “jesus - “ i shove my hands into my pockets to warm them up a little, all while shivering beneath my coat. “i swear it was like fifty degrees not that long ago.” and now it feels like we’re in the antarctic.  “are you a fan of the winter?” this is the sort of small talk i usually hate but with him, i want to know everything. “or are you more of a summer guy? you know - sexy little booty shorts, tight shirts …” my nose scrunches as i grin at him. 

 father. he still wishes it didn’t amuse him quite so much, hearing the word fall from her lips. he won’t shout at her, but the noise that leaves him is somewhere between a sigh, a laugh and a groan. “ you’re... fucking incorrigible, y’know that ? ” not that he’d ever wish to change her, despite his protestations.  he holds the door for her -- of course -- and follows her into the brisk chill of the night. the alcohol had done a shitty job of providing him with any warmth whatsoever, and he pulls his scarf around his neck before looking at her. 

“ the powers of global warming, ”  he teasingly retorts. her question elicits a raised eyebrow, before with a deeply convincing level of faux sincerity, he asks, “ sexy little booty shorts and tight shirts ? have you been looking through my wardrobe ? ”  he takes his coat off. it’s freezing and far from the smartest decision he’s ever made as he stands in front of her to silently place it over her shoulders. “ i like winter best. it’s got everything good -- cute lights, bad films, tacky jumpers, an excuse to eat chocolate literally every day for a month straight, it’s all great . ”  a hand is placed on the small of her back as they begin to walk, dropping again after a few seconds. “ what about you ? are you a winter fan too ? ”

[inorationis-moved]

* velvetipped‌

it’s gorgeous.  he just said that my nose is gorgeous.  gorgeous.  i’m honestly a little speechless,  my lips tug up into a smile - a genuine smile, but i’m lost for words.  gorgeous.  that’ll be playing on my mind now - every time i look at myself in the mirror, i’ll remember that he said my nose was gorgeous.  “you’ve had one too many, i think.”  because he has to be drunk, doesn’t he?  there’s no way in hell that he’s sober and complimenting me this much.  “you’ll look at me tomorrow - or - whenever you see me next and you’ll kick yourself for being so nice to me.”  why can’t i handle compliments?  why can’t i accept it when one person says something that makes me feel good?  - i suppose a life time of being kicked to the ground does that to a person.  “i could only dream of getting more than a solid five hours of sleep.”  it would be all too easy to lean over and kiss him right now, wouldn’t it?  i can feel myself getting nearer to him, leaning in - closer - closer … until i stop myself.  and i look down and give a little laugh before moving back.  it’s obvious though - i wasn’t subtle, i’m an idiot. he’s going to know that i was about to kiss him. “we should go.” we really should. “if we stay here any longer, i’m going to make a tit out of myself. and i’m not a tit.  not a big one anyway.” 

  her nose is gorgeous. she’s gorgeous. and he should NOT be thinking those things, let alone voicing them to her. he should really just shut up.  “ i’m allowed to be NICE. it’s sort of my job to be nice. ”  but he knows that’s not what she means. he doesn’t go around complimenting everyone like this. and she’s right -- he is drunk, but that only serves to make him more honest. which is part of the reason he’s only been getting that drunk alone recently. no way of fucking things up when he’s on his own.  “ i’ll probably regret getting drunk, but that’s down to the impending hangover more than anything else, ”  he laughs. then he looks at her again. he doesn’t move away, even as she edges closer. she’s going to kiss him -- and he wonders how long it will take himself to stop her ( he knows he has to, he knows this can’t happen, it goes against everything he’s devoted his life to ) but eventually, he isn’t the one to stop it. “ yeah, ” he agrees, speaking softly. there’s no judgement in his tone. it’s calm and kind, and he smiles as she speaks. “ you’re definitely not a tit. but we should get you home. ”  he picks up her coat, holding it up for her to put on as he stands. 

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[oneinchbarrier]

same

[ailin-star-wind]