#Amateur wrestling

[drisk-female-wrestling]

Sexy mat action....

[theanticool]

Kaori Icho - All Olympic Gold Medal Bouts

Here are all 4 of Kaori Icho’s gold medal matches from the 2004, 2008, 2012, and 2016 Olympics. Icho is the most dominant amateur wrestler, man or woman, in the history of the sport. One of only two wrestlers to win 4 Olympic gold medals, she also has a historic 10 world championships to her resume.

[highsideofjupiter]

Yesterday was the first day I ever stepped foot in a wrestling ring. I learned to lock up, run the ropes, and bump. I loved every moment of it. Though now, my body hurts so much. My neck and shoulders are so tight and sore. If anything in my life is gonna hold me back from my dream of being a wrestler, it’ll be chronic pain. I’m going to thug it out until the thug is out of me. Atleast I can say I tried

[principiumindividuationis777]

[wnightingales]

please look at Jon’s hype faces for Danielson in the background he’s so funny

[hostilecityshowdown]

the amount i need modern wrestling fans to study the von erichs until they're able to point at other wrestlers and go "i know where they learned that" is unreal

[theanticool]

The thing holding me back from watching more amateur wrestling is flowrestling wants like $150 a year. Like, come on.

[mmahypewatch]

[mmatigersdelhi]

mmatigers delhi

MMA Tigers Program Age 3 to 13,13 to 35, years is enough time to learn a lot, it gives you time to focus on your overall growth as a fighter and time to focus on other things as well, while you prepare. It actually took me about 4 year before my first amateur fight, but for about 2 of that I was out of commission with knee and shoulder issues, and I had some mental issues that sidetracked me as well. Although, I was coaching wrestling during much of this time and getting on the mat pretty much every day I was physically able. I also had no coach or instructors until I was 3-13 fights in. I won all of 3 -13 of these fights without being hit except from some ill-advised wild punches from the bottom, and already had a title.(mmatigers.com ) LEARN MMA/BOXING/GYMNASTICS My Sir experience is not common, I promise. I was lucky enough that my wrestling was far beyond anyone on the local MMA scene, and it transferred very easily to BJJ, which most wrestlers don't have going for them. I had the facilities to train in and friends within wrestling who were also just learning to fight, so we would train together. (Mixed Martial Arts is the best Location MMATIGERS Center Tilak Nagar Metro Pillar No-499,New Delhi.)What I did not have was an overabundance of athleticism. Never have. If you do, consider yourself fortunate and take advantage. Planning your fight career 3-13/13-42 years ahead of time gives you a long time to hone your skills and gain enough confidence to go out there knowing you will put on a good show no matter what. MMA Tigers Trainers National, International Trainers Tanning Mixed Martial Arts. I would recommend finding a good coach who can guide you through the process, and training as much as you can without breaking yourself, with a particular emphasis on increasing your overall skillset. In the last 6 months before you start your training camp for your first fight, focus on developing your best skills. If you have natural grappling ability, work your takedowns and submissions, if you have natural punching power or keen instincts, perfect your boxing and Muay Thai. This way you can specialize in the weeks leading up to the fight and you'll know how you intend the fight to go.

Unlike Boxing which only allows punches such as jabs and uppercuts, MMA allows for a wide range of strikes. The strikes allowed in MMA include elbows, knees, kicks, and spinning back fists. MMA fighters can incorporate a variety of fighting styles such as Tae Kwon Do, Muay Thai, and Karate to win. बॉक्सिंग के विपरीत, जो केवल जैब और अपरकट जैसे मुक्कों की अनुमति देता है, एमएमए स्ट्राइक की एक विस्तृत श्रृंखला की अनुमति देता है। एमएमए में अनुमत हमलों में कोहनी, घुटने, किक और स्पिनिंग बैकफ़िस्ट शामिल हैं। एमएमए फाइटर्स जीतने के लिए विभिन्न प्रकार की लड़ाई शैलियों जैसे ताए क्वोन डो, मय थाई और कराटे को शामिल कर सकते हैं। बॉक्सिंग और एमएमए में क्या समानता है? बॉक्सिंग और एमएमए दोनों सिद्ध मार्शल आर्ट हैं जो अभ्यासकर्ताओं को आत्मरक्षा की स्थिति में जीवित रहने में मदद कर सकते हैं। मुक्केबाज और मिश्रित मार्शल कलाकार आक्रमण शुरू करने और क्षति से बचने के लिए घूंसे, फुटवर्क और कोण का उपयोग करते हैं।

[thepantyreckless]

[selamat-linting]

if its just a shallow story with gay shit and the occasional violence i wouldnt have stayed for so long!!! i wouldnt have liked it so much!!! it really is deeper than it seems!!! but you can only see it once you treat it like proper art instead of the butt of a joke.

[ms-demeanor]

Why reblog machine-generated art?

When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.

When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.

When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.

When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.

You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.

And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.

My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.

People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.

I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?

The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.

I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.

However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.

Also because it's just patently untrue.

But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.

It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.

I liked it.

I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.

Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)

Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?

My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.

What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.

And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).

There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.

I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.

Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.

[butchpillowprince]

Butch4Butch Porn Catalogue

Written erotica

The Holy Grail, required reading: George's Boi by greyhyms on AO3 - butch/butch, Daddy kink, stone butch

Set in Stone: butch on butch erotica (2001) at openlibrary.org

The entire Jess/Lupe A League of Their Own tag on AO3

Sinclair Sexsmith - butch4butch and butch4femme: website

Orlando Silver - butch4butch and T4T: Substack

Dev Ill/thedevilisadyke: AO3

kind to be cruel - butch/butch - dignification kink, Daddy kink

bad guy - butch/butch - sadism and masochism, blood play, bondage

in the alley - butch/butch/butch - orgasm control, pain kink, public sex/in an alley, Daddy kink, Sir kink, threesome

fangs4fur - butch/butch - vampire and werewolf, breeding kink, pain kink, blood play, sadism and masochism

Bite, Burn, & Sting - butch/butch, needle play, pain kink, piercings, genital piercing, Daddy kink, impact play, masturbation

Solder & Flux - butch/butch, power bottom/service top, hatefucking, enemies to lovers, pain play, Daddy kink, knife play, blood play, gagging

Smoke and Flame- butch/butch, smoke play, marijuana, Daddy kink, choking

Forgive Me, Father - butch/butch, blasphemy kink, masturbating in a confession booth, wax play, spanking

dykediaries: Literotica

Bois' Night - butch/butch, a friend helps a friend get over a breakup

Meet Me After Work? - butch/butch, a butch gets picked up by a customer at their job

One Night Stand - butch/butch, two butches get set up on a blind date

Reconnecting - butch/butch, two old transmasc friends meet up post-transition

Welcome Surprise - butch/butch/femme, threesome, a butch/femme couple incorporate another butch

basicbutch: Literotica

Arm Wrestle - butch/butch - The reigning arm wrestling champ at the dive bar meets her match.

One Bad Night - butch/butch - A terrible night out results in unexpected romance.

(my stuff) Leo Wilder/ butchpillowprince:  AO3, website, instagram, linktr.ee

Yes, Sir anthology (paperback, ebook)

Coming Home novella (paperback, ebook)

Charlie & her friends series

Poker Game - butch/butch/butch/butch/butch/butch group sex - Charlie and her friends play poker and find a new way to place their bets.

Halloween Party - butch/butch/butch/butch/butch/butch group sex - Charlie and the gang throw a Halloween party and play truth or dare.

Camping Trip - butch/butch/butch/butch/butch/butch group sex and three butch/butch pairs - Charlie and her friends go on a camping trip together after the Halloween party.

New Year's - butch/butch/butch/butch/butch/butch group sex - Charlie and her friends go to a kink party for New Year's Eve.

One-shot originals

Against the Ropes - butch/butch - Tensions run high in the boxing ring between rivals.

Amateurs - butch/butch/butch/butch - Some butch friends film amateur porn in a parking lot, and get caught.

Bittersweet Rivals - butch/butch - Two basketball rivals meet at the bar and work out their rivalry on the dancefloor.

BOY TOY - butch/butch - A couple explores a "BOY TOY" collar fantasy together, and acts it out in the bedroom.

Butch Bros - butch/butch - Two butch buds hang out and have a good time on the couch.

Butch Cocksuckers - butch/butch/butch - A set of roommates work on their communication together.

Chastity - butch/butch - A closeted, repressed baby butch gets corrupted by a filthy, greedy butch top.

Gym Rat - butch/butch - A gym bro follows a silver fox to the showers.

Library Stacks - butch/butch/butch - Two students find a creative way to study in the library, and they get caught.

Oil Change - butch/butch - Jack's friend needs some help in the garage.

Road Trip - butch/butch - A country boy and a city boy take a road trip together, and the city boy misbehaves.

Suit and Tie - butch/butch - Two butches get dressed up for the opera and don't make it out the door.

Tough Guy - butch/butch - A heartbroken butch goes to the bar, flagging black on the right.

Use Me - butch/butch - A drink on the couch becomes more when the boy learns how to ask for what he wants.

Audio erotica

Dev Ill/thedevilisadyke: butch4butch audio library

Closer Than Ever and Game Time on Dipsea (paid or 7 day free trial) - masc lesbian friends have a Dyke Night that starts with a friendly massage / They go to a bar and realize their prospects aren't as hot as each other

Masc for Masc on TryQuinn (paid or 7 day free trial) https://www.tryquinn.com/audio/masc-for-masc

The entire butch4butch tag on Gone Wild Audio Sapphic (/r/gwasapphic)

Video porn

Fagdyke Cruising

Shutter

Blue Room

Butch4Butch Daddy boy scene

Butch vs butch lesbians

Butch & Butch

Sid Blankovich and Jiz Lee

Adina and Saffron

Daddi Dice and Red Jackhammer

Dallas and Syd Blakovich

Two lesbian butches having anal sex

Butch on fire

Real girlfriends

The rest of the butch4butch tag on PINKLABEL.tv

Am I missing something? Reblog and link to it!

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[theanticool]

We have a lot of different world championships going on in 2023.

Women’s Boxing World Championships in March in India

World Judo Championships in May in Qatar

BJJ World Championships in late May-June in Long Beach, California

Wrestling World Championships in September in Serbia

Karate World Championships in October in Hungrary

Wushu world championships coming up in November in Forth Worth, Texas

Wrestling World Cup in December in Coralville, Iowa.

My goal is to find writers who cover some of these amateur sports before the event and just have some sort of contextual framework for what I’m watching play out. Who are the favorites? Who are the dark horses? Who is lucky to be there? What are the major stories going on behind the scenes (like rule changes, big coaching shake ups, etc). The only one I feel like I have a somewhat okay handle on would be the Women’s Boxing World Championships because I’ve watched a bunch of them before.

[octuscle]

Distilled masculinity

Timothy was a twink. There was no other way to put it. He had a flawless soft house, a rosy, soft face, golden curls, hardly any beard growth and virtually no body hair. There were a lot of people who found him incredibly sexy the way he was. He was shagged at least once a day. But he couldn't get close to the men he actually liked, the big, hairy musclemen. He was invisible to them… Completely.

In order to be as close to his idols as possible, he had taken on a temporary job at the gym on campus. Working a bit at reception, tidying up in the evenings… But his favorite task was to collect the towels from the training area in the evening and take them to the laundry. If he was lucky, a few members of the wrestling team had wiped their sweat with them. And then their musk still hung in the cotton. Timothy couldn't get enough of sinking his face into these towels. Before he fed them into the washing machine, he had jerked off into the towels more than once. Especially when he himself had found wank stains in the towels, which unfortunately happened far too rarely for his liking.

At some point, Timothy began not to put the towels that stank the most in the laundry, but to secretly collect them in his own locker in the gym. The stench became more and more overwhelming when he opened the locker… The very idea that he could sink his nose into the dirty towels again made his puny cock hard. But he remained a twink. Nothing to change! Not even through his attempts to work out in the gym himself. Preferably before or after the official opening hours. When other musclemen trained with him, he felt uncomfortable on the one hand because he was such a beanpole. And on the other hand, he had a hard-on that couldn't be hidden. No, if the members of the wrestling team or the football team were anywhere near him, he couldn't train…

Timothy's major was chemistry. If his dream of finally getting close to the big guys wasn't going to come true, he at least wanted to become a successful chemist. His dream was to isolate substances that could turn people like him into people like his idols. But that would remain as much a dream as ever being shagged by the quarterback or the captain of the wrestling team.

After a sleepless night in which he had jerked off more than once, Timothy had an idea. It seemed crazy to him. But he had to try it. He wanted to distill the sweat, the cum, the musk from his towel collection. He wanted a concentrate that he could rub under his armpits. If he didn't look like one of the mountains of muscle, he at least wanted to smell like one… And as the sun slowly rose, he also had an idea of how he could do this… That evening, when he was finally alone again in the gym, he wanted to get straight down to business.

The experimental setup was not easy. Timothy had made something like a funnel out of old plastic boxes in the gym's storeroom and filled it with distilled water. Over and over again. Until it slowly began to drip from the bottom of his funnel. Water that had run through the towels and picked up the delicious scents of dozens of jocks on its way. It was long after midnight when he had collected about a gallon of liquid. She smelled like the towels had smelled. Timothy stuffed them into the washing machine. His boss had long wondered where all the towels disappeared to. Now the stock would be replenished. Timothy took the canister of flavored water and went home. now he wanted to distill the scent. He had bought a still for amateur distillers. But he didn't want to make schnapps. He had other things in mind. Unfortunately, his plan didn't work out. Just as the first oily drops were dripping into his Erlenmeyer flask, there was a bang! And the whole still blew up. Shit, it was 04:00 in the morning. He heard neighbors yelling. Timothy hurriedly grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess on his kitchen floor. And he got a boner. Bigger and harder than ever before. The rag stank! Stank more than any changing room. Every football jersey. Than anything he'd ever smelled. It didn't smell beastly. It smelled like a beast! But Timothy stank too. When the apparatus had exploded, there had been plenty of splashes of the original liquid and the distillate. Timothy went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His T-shirt was stained. He took it off. And absent-mindedly, he took the cloth he had just used to wipe the floor and rubbed his upper body with it. The smell! He rubbed his face. Damn it! That overwhelming smell! He took the cloth and rubbed his upper body as if it were a washcloth.

Tim grunted. Yeah, the washcloth wasn’t exactly clean. But hell, it was early in the morning, and he was about to hit the gym anyway. Why did he even bother washing up before? Washing was for wimps. Yeah, he was everything but a wimp. He started posing. He liked what he saw. He was in good shape. When the bulking phase ended and he prepped for the next competitions, he'd have to shave his chest hair again. He hated that. But shit, he was too dumb for any other job. Or for college or some crap. And he didn’t want a football career either. Coach kicked him off the team after he banged the quarterback. Hehehe, it was worth it. But now he wasn't gonna crawl back to the team. Tim made his pecs dance. 5:30 AM. In an hour and a half, he’d have to open the gym. Plenty of time to chug a gallon of protein shake and maybe do a little leg workout. He'd hit chest again tonight. Maybe he’d even let the wrestling team captain give him a hand with it.