Crossover (West Wing/Studio 60): for even your holes, bathsheba
for even your holes, bathsheba
the west wing/studio 60; jed bartlet, jed/jordan mcdeere- r
316 words
general mix of season spoilers for both. sort of: s1 Studio 60, early s4 for WW.
for falseeeyelashes. this is her fault. completely.
mary, mary drop me softly
been reading what your very man said
(pj harvey) water
-
Wrapping around your corner, a church; god and man, she must have been one of those in paper skirt with knobby knees and pearl lips.
“Do you mind if I-” Yes, here’s the wooden crucifix. Find the nails, the rust to scrap the remains of all sins.
There’s a soft snort in the dark, the sheets tapering over his thighs. He thinks about Abby drying her yes, dear over luncheons and women with teeth. He remembers his daughters, their prayers for their father, the complicated man.
But the television is on, the weather and the smoke. He’s sliding his free hand against his cock, wet and limp; pathetic is singing again, in overtones like the hail mary but full of grace.
“You don’t really want to be president again.”
Soft, McDeere is almost ageless again, that sweet-faced volunteer with wide, fierce eyes; oh, yes, this has happened before, spilling open patriots. You’ve caught him, don’t you see, a man trapped with manifest destiny clawed across his spine.
Ask once why she won’t let him call her by her name and you’ll get screw you for all this is.
He turns, shaky, and it’s been months with that arch in his back, to the farm, and the quiet that he’s supposed to take again.
“No,” he drags his cigarette across his mouth, tearing skin with his teeth, “I don’t. But I’m just a man. I’m just allowed to miss things.”
He’s older and has to remember that she talks media and politics as the network and the network. But it’s beyond that, as anything else is, and he’s thick with that kind of longing again.
McDeere turns to her knees, is already thinking about quitting her job, and the shadows of her breasts brush his arm.
She doesn’t kiss him. Abby likes her because she’s a bitch.
Her mouth to his shoulder: “You’re just a holy liar.”
e.
the west wing/studio 60; jed bartlet, jed/jordan mcdeere- r
316 words
general mix of season spoilers for both. sort of: s1 Studio 60, early s4 for WW.
for falseeeyelashes. this is her fault. completely.
mary, mary drop me softly
been reading what your very man said
(pj harvey) water
-
Wrapping around your corner, a church; god and man, she must have been one of those in paper skirt with knobby knees and pearl lips.
“Do you mind if I-” Yes, here’s the wooden crucifix. Find the nails, the rust to scrap the remains of all sins.
There’s a soft snort in the dark, the sheets tapering over his thighs. He thinks about Abby drying her yes, dear over luncheons and women with teeth. He remembers his daughters, their prayers for their father, the complicated man.
But the television is on, the weather and the smoke. He’s sliding his free hand against his cock, wet and limp; pathetic is singing again, in overtones like the hail mary but full of grace.
“You don’t really want to be president again.”
Soft, McDeere is almost ageless again, that sweet-faced volunteer with wide, fierce eyes; oh, yes, this has happened before, spilling open patriots. You’ve caught him, don’t you see, a man trapped with manifest destiny clawed across his spine.
Ask once why she won’t let him call her by her name and you’ll get screw you for all this is.
He turns, shaky, and it’s been months with that arch in his back, to the farm, and the quiet that he’s supposed to take again.
“No,” he drags his cigarette across his mouth, tearing skin with his teeth, “I don’t. But I’m just a man. I’m just allowed to miss things.”
He’s older and has to remember that she talks media and politics as the network and the network. But it’s beyond that, as anything else is, and he’s thick with that kind of longing again.
McDeere turns to her knees, is already thinking about quitting her job, and the shadows of her breasts brush his arm.
She doesn’t kiss him. Abby likes her because she’s a bitch.
Her mouth to his shoulder: “You’re just a holy liar.”
e.