The Philosopher's Stone

Angry, Hungry, Asleep

Wed, 14 Oct 2009 20:30:30 GMT

My coworkers are all bringing in their own radios. The woman next to me wears headsets and sings along. Do I want her dead?

ABSOLUTELY.

They hired a new guy in marketing. He's about 45 with two kids and a cute wife and I haven't yet decided if I'm gonna try and bang him or not for the practice.

We'll see....

Sunday, Sunday

Sun, 28 Jun 2009 12:02:37 GMT

I go a year without posting, and now - two in one week. Hell's belles.......

Sunday morning and I'm in the church of WORK. How did I end up here, I wonder? Oh yeah - recession - and now, there's one of me doing the job of three people. Maybe that's why I've turned back to LiveJournal. It's a way to stay sane while being put through the wringer.

Have a lovely Sunday, mortals.

Lial

River

Wed, 24 Jun 2009 19:51:02 GMT

The River Sweeps Me Away

The river sweeps me away,
an artist with wild brush strokes,
A gentle touch on canvas sends me careening along.
Careful not to crash into the rock, the thrumming beat
of blood in my veins, my ears,
so human, and yet above it all.

The river sweeps me away,
swirling in circles -
circles within circles, and I am dizzy -
this place, this Earth, spins on its own axis,
in complete counterthrust to mine.

Dreaming
I am dreaming
in vivid Shinedown Technicolor.
So lucky to have the best of all worlds:

Even if I have to steal it.

Que Sera, Sera

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 15:18:59 GMT

posting! i am supposed to be working right now, but alas - I am not. Not interested in work right at this moment. I am trying to get a fanfiction going (which is running around in my head). I probably shouldn't watch so much DEXTER. It's an appallingly delicious show that is almost better than porn (for those of us with bad intentions).

Anyway.

So I have this idea (no, not sharing) and I want to work it out. Which means I am online at work writing instead of paying attention to what I should be doing.

I survive.

Talk later. Must mull over evil deeds.

What the Hell?

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 19:38:03 GMT

Haven't been here in years. Literally. I wanted to take down all of my previous postings thanks to the fact that they are older than dirt and hardly beneficial anymore. I'm not even sure what to write at this point. But I'll get through it.

More to come. I have to work on reinventing my weirdness.

Lial

FAME CHALLENGE PAIRING

Sat, 24 Apr 2004 12:04:15 GMT

Tracie - don't read this, darling. =)

Username: BELIAL

Title of Story: FAME CHALLENGE PAIRING

Who You Wrote For:Azrielen

Pairing/Rating: request 1: Simon Cowell/John Stevens, R to NC 17, dom!John in leather pants.

Link to Your Story:

~

TITLE: Vanilla

AUTHOR: Lial

RATING: NC-17

FOR: Azrielen's request 1: Simon Cowell/John Stevens, R to NC 17, dom!John in leather pants.

NOTES: I do not own Ben, Jerry, anything remotely related to American Idol, and I haven't a dime to my name so don't sue me.

SECOND NOTES: In my world, no one has been booted off yet. Don't ask why, that's how my Muse wanted it for this story. Also, I'm not sure if dom!John gets to have fun when he's being tough. So, along with smut, this is kinda humorous. Well, I hope it's humorous, anyway... =)

SUMMARY: Did you know that Ben & Jerry' s (www.benjerry.com/scoop_shops/menu/) ice cream is pornographic?

~

The conversation was Ryan's fault.

The show ended and all of the finalists lounged in the red room, relaxing after another stressful night. Ryan came in with a Blowpop lollipop dangling between raspberry-stained lips.

"Very mature," came the standard Cowell reply, with hoots and giggles from the others assembled.

Ryan shrugged and plopped down on the couch by Matt Rogers. "I dunno," he said, swirling the plump lollipop crown with his tongue, "I like to suck lollipops."

Matt made a suspicious noise beside him, cleared his throat, and shrank into the opposite end of the couch. Ryan took the opportunity to sprawl out further, cocking his head at the incredulous looks everyone was giving him. "What?" he asked in typical blonde fashion.

"Nothing, dawg," Randy said, hiding a laugh with a cough. "Nothing at all."

"You know," Fantasia piped up, "It's not only lollipops."

"What isn't?" Amy asked.

"It's ice cream, too," the flirty girl smiled. "Hey, JPL, what kinda ice cream you like?"

"Ben & Jerry's. I'm addicted to the Mint Chocolate Chunk," the boy replied. "What about you guys? And Fantasia, where's this going?"

As the other contestants chimed in, Paula also added, "I always loved Chubby Hubby, but they discontinued it."

"Really? Then why do you always date pretty boys the size of Seacrest?"

Paula slapped Simon, hard. The Brit rubbed his arm and pretended to be wounded. "Ouch, Paula, you harpy, you."

"Shut up or I'll slap you again."

That inspired another round of giggles, when John piped in with, "I'm kinda a vanilla guy myself."

Fantasia practically came out of her seat. "OhmyGod, that doesn't surprise me!"

"Tasia, where's your mind?" Jon Peter asked. "Why the ice cream diatribe?"

At her pause, Jon added, "Yeah, it's the 'Word-A-Day' calendar. So what gives?"

"Well, first, let me get everyone else's reply. Randy? Simon?"

"Chocolate, dawg. Nothing better than some chocolate lovin'."

"Pul-lease," Simon sighed. "Plain chocolate, how abysmal. Phish Food, if it's Ben & Jerry's."

"What's that?" Paula asked.

"Caramel-marshmallow-chocolate chunk in chocolate ice cream," the Brit replied. "Bloody good stuff."

"I never pegged you for an ice cream lover, Cowell," Ryan said.

Simon shrugged. "I never pegged you as someone with an oral fixation."

Ryan turned the color of John's hair, and quickly changed the subject. "Fantasia, so what's with the ice cream theory?"

"Well, a girlfriend of mine told me about this, vanilla is the flavor of the most boring person in bed... you know, kinda mild, nothing too exciting. Tutti Frutti, all the wild stuff you put in it, supposedly makes you a much better lover."

Dead silence as her words sunk in. After a moment of awkward tension, Simon broke the spell.

"Don't worry, John. You're only sixteen, maybe you'll grow into chocolate," the older man smirked, watching John cringe and lower his eyes to the floor.

Paula slapped Simon again. "Can you ever just be

silent

?"

"Not really." With that, he rose from the sofa and headed toward the exit. "Nice show, kids. Until tomorrow."

As Simon left, Amy put her hand on John's shoulder. "Don't worry, John. He's just a jerk, that's all."

The boy nodded. No one seemed to notice the slight gleam in his eyes.

()()()()

Simon was dreaming. He was stretched across the bed in his hotel suite, unable to move his arms or legs, and a wet tongue traced the contours of his ears. He sighed in pure pleasure, the rolled over.

Tried to roll over.

He woke with a start, but the room shrank in around him so that he couldn't see anything. " WHAT THE BLOODY HELL!?!?!"

"Shh..." a voice cooed above him. "Relax, no one's going to hurt you. Yet."

The voice sounded so familiar, but he couldn't place it. He yanked his arm hard, but found it immobile. The same situation applied to his legs. "Look," he hissed. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but..."

His complaint was cut off as a mouth covered his. This is not happening, the Brit thought, as a tongue lapped at his front teeth. Definitely not happening.

Teeth nibbled his bottom lip, and he was let up for air. "Feel nice?" the voice asked again.

"If you think tying me down is 'nice', you'd better check the definition of the word."

A low, masculine chuckle. "Simon, Simon. Only you could be in this position and still sound like a cocky son-of-a-bitch."

"I'm not a... untie me at once."

A rustling of material, and the sheet that afforded him modesty was removed. A cool breeze drifted across his belly and he shivered. "Look, as much as I don't want to be found this way, you've got to the count of three to let me up or I'm going to start yelling."

And then he did yell, not for help, but as his balls were dipped into something freezing cold. "What the..."

And then a hot mouth engulfed him, licking whatever it was off. Simon moaned at the sensation of hot/cold, squirmed a bit. "Jesus."

The other man chuckled again. "If I take off the blindfold, will you promise to behave?"

"Not bloody likely."

"Simon... all I want to do is teach you the real pleasure of vanilla."

Simon stiffened. "What did you just say?"

The mouth swirled around the crown of his cock, and removed itself with a lewd slurp. "I said I wanted to teach you the pleasure of vanilla. Do you know who's on top now?"

The Brit's mouth opened and closed several times, until finally he squeaked, "John?"

The boy reached up and yanked the blindfold off. The older man blinked several times, adjusting to the light in the room. When their eyes finally met, Simon's jaw dropped.

"Wow," John giggled. "Don't tell me I finally found a way to shut you up."

Simon still didn't say anything. His eyes traveled across the boy's chest and face, down to the tight leather pants he wore. "John?" he said again.

"One and the same." The boy held up a tub of Ben & Jerry's vanilla. "I was craving a snack. I couldn't find a bowl. I thought you'd do, instead. Did you ever do finger painting as a child?" he asked, conversationally.

Before Simon could reply, John dipped his fingers back into the carton and ran them across Simon's nipples. They hardened instantly at the cold, and then John leaned in to lick them clean. "Mmm. Vanilla, with a hint of Cowell. You want a bite?"

Simon's eyes glazed and he nodded. "Maybe I'll wake up."

"This isn't a dream." John said, unzipping the leather of his pants. He dragged his leaking cock through the ice cream carton, sighing and shivering as he did. Then, he knelt up on the bed, straddling Simon's chest. "Open your mouth."

For once in his life, with no complaints or commentary, Simon obeyed. The boy slid his cock between Simon's lips. "Taste the ice cream."

Simon closed his mouth tightly around John, bathing him with swirling tongue and hot breath. "Shit," John moaned. "I knew your mouth would be great."

Simon finished sucking John, and the boy applied another coat of ice cream. "Once more?"

Simon smirked, nodded. "I never would've guessed that you were a harlot, John."

"Let's just say it's a side I don't show to many people. If I untie you, you'd better be good."

Simon lapped John clean again. "Give me a reason I should?"

"Because I won't let you come. I'll leave you tied here, hard as a rock, and spend the rest of the evening jerking off on your chest. Good enough reason?"

Simon's whole body clenched. After a moment, the Brit replied, "Yeah. I guess that's a pretty good reason."

John reached above Simon's head, loosened the belts on his wrists. Simon lowered his arms until they rested on John's hips. "Don't you want to take those off?"

"My pants?"

"Mmm."

John rolled to the side, got off the bed. "Stay still."

"Wouldn't dream of moving."

John giggled and untied Simon's ankles. True to his word, Simon stayed still, not even bothering to close his legs. "Shameless," John said, letting his fingers graze over the opening to the other man's body.

"Maybe we both have sides that would surprise people," Simon murmured, softly.

"You're a very nice bottom, then. With a very nice bottom," John added, grinning. Simon grinned back.

"Lovely of you to say. Now get up here, I'm getting bored."

John stripped off his pants. "God forbid," he said theatrically, sliding next to Simon. The older man yanked the boy next to him and kissed him gently. "Yours to command."

"Hmm... what a nice sound. On your belly. I'm going to fuck you."

"Cheeky thing."

John slapped Simon's arm. "Don't make me regret untying you."

Simon slid onto his stomach. John tugged on his hips and slid a pillow beneath them. He reached off the table, this time grabbing for lube instead of ice cream. "Got vanilla lube, too."

"I don't dare ask, do I?"

"Internet, of course."

"Of course."

Then John was behind him and inside him, without really giving him a chance to stretch or adjust. Simon bit his lip so hard it bled, but he didn't cry out... not until John changed angles and hit that sweet spot that sent his nerves into overdrive.

"Simon, Simon, Simon..." the boy panted over and over, reaching in front of him and jerking his cock roughly.

Simon came moments before the younger man, a rush of blood coloring his eyes and he closed them, left his head go limp into the pillows. "Shit," he said.

John gave a slow thrust inside him. "Are you ready for me?"

"Bloody well do it..."

Two thrusts and John came with a wail, collapsing onto Simon's back. They lay like that for awhile, breathing, until John had the energy to roll off the larger man and onto the bed next to him.

Simon moved to his side, snuggling, and John wondered at the closeness of it. He'd never figured the Brit for a cuddler, but there he was, spooned around the redhead and warm against his back. "Mmm."

"So have I converted you? A vanilla fan?"

"From now on," Simon chuckled. "But a favor, please?"

"What?"

"Next time, may I show you the pleasures of Phish Food?" Simon yawned, smirking.

John burst into giggles. "Next time, huh?"

The older man snored softly behind him, and John's laughter faded to a warm smile. "Yeah," he said softly. "Next time, for sure."

END

SOOOOOOOO Tired

Sat, 20 Mar 2004 04:26:31 GMT

I am ready to be asleep, it is fucking 11:30 at night, I am turning from a demon into a vampire...

Great day. found a bank that will let me lower my checking balance and get a free safety deposit box. Met a cute girl named Kellie, but actually chickened out on hitting on her. Might be nice to be employed before I try to take someone out on a date.

Hopefully, will get a call from a prospect next week. I'm hoping for Tuesday. Light your candles for me, people.

Was disappointed on Thursday, while watching WONDERFALLS on Fox. It was hyped up to be this really cool thing, and it SUCKED. BORING!

What happened to creativity on television anymore?

Enough of a tired psychobabble. Goodnight!

Weirdness

Tue, 16 Mar 2004 22:45:33 GMT

What is it about employers? They think that people are so desperate today for a job, they can offer peanuts? Do I look like an elephant?

I slept in till 10 this morning. Another one of those weird twists in life. Normally, 8 is considered "sleeping in". Must've been due to the weather (rain, thunderstorms). Trace, I think you've been fucking around with my weather, babe.

Still have my mind on the oddities of life. Trying to do a little writing before I forget what makes life so odd. Anybody have those little pink pills?

The True Measure of a Yard

Sat, 13 Mar 2004 02:23:02 GMT

Short story, G rating, thought for the day.... a nice missive about trees and how they are more like people than one would expect.

It was a searing hot spring day, the kind that made people wilt as fast as the plants did. Nina wiped the sweat from her forehead and sprawled on the covered front patio, grateful for the breezes flowing through the thirty year old oak trees above her head. The terra-cotta tiles were
blessedly cool on her hot skin.

“You’d better not fall asleep there,” a voice laughingly chided. “Those plants aren’t going to jump in the ground themselves.”

She smiled. “You have my word on it. I plan to get every last azalea in the ground before nightfall.”

“There’re only nine left.”

“The last ones are the hardest.” Nina sat up, brushed some of the dirt off her arm. “That bed’s right by the oak roots, and I’m having quite a time getting the plants in the ground.”

Alexandra ventured onto the patio and sat on a chair near her daughter. “I have some fresh iced tea inside, if you’d like some?”

Nina nodded. “I think that would be absolutely perfect. Thanks, Mom.”

As Alexandra rose and went inside, Nina pulled off the soil laden gloves and knee pads she wore. She propped herself up against one of the columns on the patio, waiting for her
mother’s return.

It didn’t take long. The two women sat in a comfortable silence, each sipping her tea and staring at the newly turned earth. “I remember when your father and I moved into this house,” Alexandra said. “At that time, there weren’t any beautiful trees in this yard. Only a half dead palm tree and rows of man-eating holly bushes lining the patio.”

It was a story that Nina had heard often, but still loved. “And then Gram gave you and Dad the first oak tree.”

Alexandra smiled and looked to the main tree in the center of the yard, the towering giant of the block. “Yes, she did. That tree was planted during our first year in the house. She always used to say, that as it grew and became stronger, so our love and happiness would grow and strengthen.”

“Well, thirty years later, you and Dad are still married. I think Gram had some psychic ability to predict that,” Nina said.

“That’s not a psychic prediction, Nina. Your Grandmother and Grandfather were from the belief that people didn’t get divorced at the first sign of trouble. Your father and I held the same belief. We still do. Look at the rest of the yard - your father and I planted the other three oaks together. The two on the side of the driveway, they were nothing more than spindly broom handles. So was the one at the corner. Now look at them. They’re lovely. They
might’ve started as being small and puny, but they certainly haven’t stayed that way. And they’ll continue to flourish for years to come. Everything worthwhile takes a lot of time and patience. That’s what the oaks remind me of.”

Not even the brownish pollen blooms could diminish the stately trees. They continued to sway proudly, as if nodding in agreement to the conversation. Nina reached out and touched the grass just off the patio. She could feel the magic in the yard and understand why the birds and
squirrels loved it. Her mother took as much time and care with the outside of their home as she did with the inside. Where the living room was lined with memories n the forms of
antiques and collectibles, the yard was lined with azaleas and lariope grass. The yard was, in fact, just an extension of the house - an outdoor room with no windows or doors. It was a tranquil place to “get away from it all” without really going anywhere.

With renewed energy, Nina rose from her seat on the ground, and headed toward the azaleas. Her mother’s love for beauty was a kinetic force that could spur even the most tired and sweaty into action. Those nine plants weren’t a challenge; they were a gift.

Alexandra stayed on the patio awhile longer, listening to her daughter’s cheerful whistling and the occasional thud of the trowel. She smiled a knowing smile to herself, and sipped her tea.

The End

Crappy Weather

Sun, 07 Mar 2004 00:00:12 GMT

Sun! Sun... too much sun. On medication for a cold, have to stay out of the sun. Do the Drs. not realize that this is Florida? I am now worse than a mole in a hole, with my only means of escape as a baseball cap.

Dearest friend is moving to my area. Can't wait. Can't wait. Definitely a relief when compared to the long hopeless attempts to get together thwarted by many miles between us. Now, only job schedules and a husband. Might kill the husband, keep the wife. =)

Weather's getting cloudy... things are looking up.

Sleep

Sun, 08 Feb 2004 16:13:26 GMT

Tired, oh so tired. Want to curl into a ball and disappear. What is this living that we go insane for? Love, hate, annoyances, and a democratic hopeful that can't live up to the standards of anyone. Mr. Kerry, please take a seat!

Actually, I wish he would start reading books on tape, that would probably put me to sleep in an instant.

Insomnia, anyone?

Job Hunting

Wed, 04 Feb 2004 19:54:49 GMT

Trying on my "I'm new, please hire me" personality. Like a snake shedding skins. Sometimes it's hard to remember which one is real.

Will the real Nick please step forward? How much do I sell of my soul to meet those "gainful employment" criteria?

Too smart for my own good, perhaps. Wish I was independently wealthy so I could afford expensive cars and women. Maybe with a pretty boy thrown in every once in awhile for amusement. Ah, yes, I've a taste for variety in my partners. But shh, don't ask. Don't tell....

Flames of the fire licking my ankles. I really am the devil in disguise.

Rants

Mon, 02 Feb 2004 16:34:53 GMT

I was going to use this journal to write some of my daily goings on, but I think my motto has changed. Maybe I will add some of my scribblings from time to time, maybe not.

I think I will start today with a rant - about drivers in the sunshine state (that's Florida for you ignorants). What is it about Florida that attracts freaks and degenerates? I do not mean the little blue-haired ladies that can't see over the wheel. I mean the 16 - 30 year old group that think because they cut you off, they now have the right to add insult to injury to flip you the bird as well.

I am one of those 16 - 30 year olds that does not believe in recklessly endangering those vehicles around me. I paid a lot of money for my car, I do not wish to spoil it! Not to mention the insurance premiums that go along with tickets and traffic accidents.

At the ripe old age of 24, I have determined that my age group sucks behind the wheel. And they are the kind that don't even swallow.

Feel free to flame me or applaud me.

My name

Sun, 01 Feb 2004 15:44:47 GMT

Eveyone wants to know about a name. What's in a name? Belial is the name of one of the primary demons in hell, coming from the Sidonian, "Liar". For that is what life is, isn't it? One big design about how we all sound to each other. Do we not lie to get the best job? The best spouse? Animals fight in the wild to pick their mates.... we simply go to bars and social settings to have the same sorts of competitions, but with less bloodshed.

Who is it that we call the liar? The male animal that wins the fight, or the human that loses?