#Constitutional Bench

[dullahandyke]

Anywho I went into many Normal Womens Clothing Stores in search of a sports bra and for some inscrutable reason people were giving me funny looks. Brother I am just like you I am bitching H&M out for not stocking any pants i like above a size 14 apparently and charging 17 euro for an offspring tshirt that didnt even have colour it was greyscale

[ID: a photo of me, a ginger man with short curly hair and a beard, wearing headphones with large devil horns, messy dramatic eyeliner, a Hawaiian shirt, and flowy pants.]

[friendfromdsmp]

All these ‘which of these Miraculous episodes was your favourite?’ polls is making me realise just how little I can enjoy the individual episodes outside of just mindless consumption because it’s a brilliant show for turning your brain off and having a laugh to relax after a hard day but the moment I put any thought into the show I’m like “Hold on a second that’s not good… wait a second why are they acting like it’s fine? No no no you can’t blame Marinette for that why would that be her fault? Woah easy Chat what are you- noooooo I wanna like you so bad please at very least take responsibility I want to like you!”

[rightnewshindi]

सुप्रीम अदालत ने नागरिकता अधिनियम की धारा 6ए की वैधता को रखा बरकरार, संविधान पीठ ने सुनाया फैसला

सुप्रीम अदालत ने नागरिकता अधिनियम की धारा 6ए की वैधता को रखा बरकरार, संविधान पीठ ने सुनाया फैसला #News #NewsUpdate #newsfeed #newsbreakapp

Citizenship Amendment Act 1985: देश की सर्वोच्च अदालत की पांच जजों की संविधान पीठ ने असम समझौते को आगे बढ़ाने के लिए 1985 में संशोधन के माध्यम से जोड़े गए नागरिकता अधिनियम की धारा 6ए की संवैधानिक वैधता को बरकरार रखा। बता दें कि इस मामले की सुनवाई सीजेआई डीवाई चंद्रचूड़ की अध्यक्षता वाली बेंच कर रही थी, जिसको लेकर 12 दिसंबर 2023 को 17 याचिकाओं पर सुनवाई के बाद फैसला सुरक्षित रख लिया गया था और आज…

[bhaskarlive]

Quota within Quota permissible, rules SC’s 7-judge Constitution Bench

The Supreme Court on Thursday ruled that a sub-classification would be permissible within reserved category groups for providing benefits of affirmative action.

A 7-judge Constitution Bench headed by CJI D.Y. Chandrachud overturned its 2004 Constitution Bench judgement, which ruled against giving preferential treatment to certain sub-castes within scheduled castes (SCs).

Source: bhaskarlive.in

[theonion]

Despite polls that show the American public overwhelmingly supports keeping the ancient burial chamber sealed, the Supreme Court ruled 6-3 Friday to pry open the evil tomb of Batibat, a vengeful spirit who haunts the dream space of her victims and suffocates them in their sleep.

The ruling, which overturns a 1972 decision by the court that condemned the obese tree-dwelling demon to an impenetrable tomb for all eternity, has raised concerns that countless lives could be endangered by her release. In a majority opinion joined by his fellow conservatives on the bench, Justice Samuel Alito argued that while the Constitution guarantees certain inalienable rights for all U.S. citizens, it does not offer explicit protection against the merciless Ilocano devil.  Full Story

[worldinyourpalm]

सुप्रीम कोर्ट ने समलैंगिक विवाह को वैध बनाने की याचिका को संविधान पीठ को भेजा | Supreme Court sends constitutional court with request to legalize same-sex marriage;

चीफ जस्टिस डी वाई चंद्रचूड़ की अगुवाई वाली बेंच

सुनवाई की अगली तारीख 18 अप्रैल है, कार्यवाही अदालत के YouTube चैनल पर लाइव-स्ट्रीम की जाएगी।

नई दिल्ली: सुप्रीम कोर्ट ने सोमवार को समलैंगिक जोड़ों के बीच शादी को वैध बनाने के लिए याचिकाओं के एक सेट को पांच जजों की संविधान पीठ के पास भेज दिया।

चीफ जस्टिस डी वाई चंद्रचूड़ की अगुवाई वाली बेंच ने सुनवाई की अगली तारीख 18 अप्रैल तय करते हुए यह संदर्भ दिया. चूंकि मामले की सुनवाई एक संविधान पीठ करेगी, इसलिए मामले की कार्यवाही का शीर्ष अदालत के यूट्यूब चैनल पर सीधा प्रसारण भी किया जाएगा।

सामाजिक मानदंडों के अनुसार

अदालत ने आदेश दिया, "याचिका में उठाए गए मुद्दों के संदर्भ में हमारा मानना ​​है कि उठाए गए उचित मुद्दों को इस अदालत की पांच न्यायाधीशों की पीठ द्वारा हल किया जाता है।"

इसने याचिकाओं की सुनवाई को संविधान पीठ के समक्ष पोस्ट करने का निर्देश दिया। अदालत ने मामले में दायर 16 याचिकाओं की प्रार्थनाओं को संकलित करने के लिए दो नोडल अधिवक्ताओं को 10 दिन का समय दिया।

यह आदेश केंद्र द्वारा याचिकाओं का विरोध करते हुए अपनी प्रतिक्रिया दाखिल करने के एक दिन ब��द आया है, जिसमें कहा गया है कि शादी पर मौजूदा कानूनी ढांचे के साथ किसी भी तरह की छेड़खानी से कानून निष्प्रभावी होने की संभावना है।

इसने यह भी कहा है कि हालांकि सरकार समलैंगिक संबंधों को अवैध नहीं मानती है, लेकिन इसे विवाह के रूप में पवित्र नहीं माना जा सकता है क्योंकि सामाजिक मानदंडों के अनुसार परिवार की धारणा में जैविक पुरुष शामिल है जो एक पिता है, और एक जैविक महिला, जो एक पिता है। माँ और उनके मिलन से पैदा हुआ बच्चा है।

संक्षिप्त सुनवाई के दौरान

सरकार ने अदालत से इस विषय पर बहस करने के लिए इसे संसद पर छोड़ने का भी आग्रह किया है क्योंकि स्थापित मानदंड से कोई भी विचलन तबाही मचा सकता है।

इसमें कहा गया है कि विवाह दो व्यक्तियों के बीच का निजी मामला नहीं है, बल्कि समाज के विकास में इसका महत्वपूर्ण योगदान है।

सोमवार को संक्षिप्त सुनवाई के दौरान, याचिकाकर्ताओं ने केंद्र के सुझाव का विरोध किया और अदालत को बताया कि विवाह को एक जैविक पुरुष और महिला के बीच संबंध के रूप में मान्यता देने वाले मौजूदा कानूनों को पढ़ा जा सकता है....

[newspatron]

Foreign Funding in India: Unraveling the Web of Transparency and Security

Together, we can contribute to a society that values truthfulness, transparency, and security.

From the Editor’s Desk at NewsPatron as it’s time for all of us to collectively delve into the intricacies of foreign funding cases in India. In this post, we’ll explore the background, context, and crucial aspects of these incidents—helping our society move towards truthfulness, transparency, and security. Subscribe to NewspatronUnderstanding the Influence of a Significant Group in Our…

[jockbroski34]

The Jockrooms

I hated gym class.  I wasn't athletic and I didn’t like playing sports.  Worst of all, I was stuck with the dumb jocks in my class.  Today, one of them, Kyle, threw a dodgeball right at my face.  The force was immense.  As the ball collided with me with the speed of a bullet train, I felt myself lose my balance and I tumbled onto the ground.  I sat on the ground in a daze, my head spinning from the raw power exerted from the ball.  If he threw it any harder, I’d be sent to the nurse.

Kyle was one of the tallest guys in the school, towering at an impressive 6’4, and he was just as strong as he was tall.  He was huge and he made sure that everyone knew it.  He was proof that God picked favorites in terms of genetics.  The guy had pretty much everything, except for a working brain.  He had little problem asserting dominance on those he viewed as weaker than him.  To him, I was yet another easy target with my wimpy constitution.

His jock friends cheered and high-fived him for how savagely he destroyed me.  Our gym teacher did nothing to discourage his aggressive behavior, but I wouldn’t expect any less from the football coach.  Those were his boys after all.  They could probably get away with murder and he’d still cover for them.  I sat down on the sidelines, covering my swollen cheek, as I was forced to watch Kyle and his goons dominate the rest of my team.

After what felt like an eternity, the teacher dismissed us to go change and I was relieved.  I was still covering my cheek, bruised from the dodgeball that was lobbed at me.  I sat down on the bench and opened my locker to change my clothes.  I felt a hand bump me as Kyle and his entourage walked past me.

“Sorry about that, bro,” he said, in a condescending manner.  “You’re supposed to dodge the ball, not get hit by it.  That’s why they call it dodgeball.”  I had to admit, that’s the smartest he’s ever sounded.  

“Whatever, you dumb jock,” I scoffed, ignoring his “advice” as he and his jock friends walked by.  I wasn’t sure if they were snickering at his lame attempt for a joke or at me, but I didn’t really care.  I doubt that they had much for brains either, with only sports and sex being the only thing keeping their testosterone-ridden minds running.

I glared over at Kyle while he was changing.  I had to give him credit.  He was very handsome, and he knew it, but that just made me hate him even more.  He was a guy who people either loved or hated, but his arrogant fuckboy attitude would be a turn-off for anyone who wasn’t as shallow as him.  I began to wonder why he had to be the one gifted with such a nice body.  If I was as strong as him, what would I do?

I finished changing into my regular school attire, but I felt the urge to go to the bathroom.  By the time I finished emptying my bladder, the locker room was completely empty.  Amidst the ghost town, something caught my eye.

I noticed a door that wasn’t there earlier at the end of the hallway opposite of me.  It looked out of place compared to anything I’ve seen in the school.  It was crimson with a silver knob.  I could hear something coming from the other side of the door, but I couldn’t make out anything.  It didn’t sound like construction.

For some reason, I almost felt like it was calling out to me.  Even though I needed to get to my next class, I needed to know what was behind the door.  My curiosity got the best of me as I put my hand on the handle.  It was warm, but not enough to burn my hand.  I hesitated for a moment before opening the door and I took my first steps in.

I tried to gather my bearings in this foreign room.  The room was very warm, steamy almost, with the smell of sweat lingering in the air.  It smelled like our locker room and the heat was far too much, almost like a sauna.  I knew I wouldn’t last long in this heat, so I figured it was best to head back to class.  I turned around, but instead of reaching for the door, I walked face first into a wall.  …This was where I came from, right?

“Hello?  Helloooo!”  I shouted, hoping someone would come to my rescue.  The only voice that responded was my own as my words echoed throughout the room.  I sighed.  Looks like I’ll have to find my own way out.

I realized that this would not be easy as I looked ahead.  I saw rows of lockers all around me and to my horror, the maze stretched out further than I could possibly imagine.  This room alone looked larger than the school itself!  Why did the school need this many lockers?  I decided to follow the line of lockers to find out if there was an exit at the end.  I started to hear a buzzing sound, not from the sounds of the lights, but from a different source, along with a voice so quiet that I couldn’t understand what it was saying.  I honestly felt like I was hallucinating.  Perhaps the ball Kyle threw at me actually put me in a coma.

I followed the row of lockers, the numbers increasing with every step.  The bold red lockers complemented the dark walls and white ceiling.  As I walked forward, I was tempted by turns and corners, filled with even more lockers.  I did not want to risk getting even more lost so I simply walked as close to a straight line as possible.  I found myself sweating profusely, drenching my T-shirt and jeans.  As I was getting more and more sweaty, I was also getting dehydrated, and there seemed to be no sign of any water fountains.  I was surprised that they had not installed any, but that wasn’t even the weirdest thing because nothing made sense here.

My heart sunk as I entered an empty room, a dead end.  If whoever built this place had any sense of interior design, there would be a door here.  I observed my surroundings, but there seemed to be no sign of any way out.  This was going to be longer than I thought.  I realized I would have to give an explanation to my teacher about why I was so late, but she would never believe an excuse like this.  That is, if I can even find a way out of here.  I looked down, surprised to find a bottle of some sort.  It looked to be some sort of beverage.  It looked to be a sandy brown.  I would’ve preferred…no…I desperately needed water, but I would be a fool to ignore any amount of hydration.

I untwisted the cap, and was surprised by the strange smell of the liquid.  It didn’t smell foul, but it didn’t smell sweet either.  I closed my eyes and took a sip, but I grimaced at the mixture of bitterness and saltiness.  The chalky taste lingered in my mouth, but at least it made me feel more alert.  Despite the unpleasant taste, I knew it was better than nothing, so I chugged the bottle before dropping it on the ground, making sure not to miss any drop.  To my surprise, I felt more full of energy than I ever had before.  But for some reason, as my body was starting to digest the drink, I felt as though the room was shrinking before my eyes.  Wait, was I getting taller?  Maybe this place is messing with my head.  To be honest, I wouldn’t mind being a couple inches taller.  Maybe Kyle would stop picking on me if I was on his level.

The downside, however, was that I was starting to feel even more sweaty to the point that my clothes were now flooded to the point of no return.  I knew they would smell of sweat forever no matter how many times I washed them, so I figured that stripping would be the better option.  I can always change back into my gym clothes when I get back.  I desperately hoped that I was all alone here so no one would see me in this embarrassing state.  I looked at the locker at the end of the room.  1000.  The numbers went up to at least 1000?  This had to be some kind of sick joke.  I was frustrated, but I knew I had to retrace my steps in order to find a way out of here.

A strange idea entered my head after walking into several more dead ends, seemingly out of nowhere.  If I went to my own locker, would I find something there?  It sounded like a stupid idea since I would miss out on other potential paths, but it just felt right.  Besides, I had no other leads.  My locker number was 0136.  I continued walking back trying to test if my hypothesis was correct.  My body was trying to fight back against my exhaustion and my mind was trying to stop itself from being drowned out by the subliminal noise.  It felt like this place was messing with me in some way.  I had to find a way out of here.

Eventually, my eyes lit up as I turned a corner to find lockers numbered in the 0100s.  I felt my body guiding me until I found a locker that appeared to be left open.  All of the others were closed, so maybe it had some significance?  0133…0134…0135…0136!  I chuckled at the coincidence that my locker would be the one that was different like I knew it would be.  Inside, I found yet another one of those same drinks from before, a piece of paper, and a…red jockstrap?  I chugged the drink desperate to feel hydrated.  For some reason, it tasted better than I remembered.  The paper appeared to be some kind of riddle.

“Only this way is right.”

“The combination will show you the light.”

Turns out I was right to come this way.  For some reason, it seems like this room was made specifically for me.  I was more curious about the second line.  “The combination will show you the light.”  If my locker number was what led me here, then surely my locker combination would be the next hint.  05-13-34.  51334?  I shuddered, knowing that my journey would be a lot longer than I had anticipated.  Hopefully this helps me escape from this hell.

I started to wonder who wrote this, but I didn’t even know who built this room in the first place.  None of this makes any sense.  I might not even be in school anymore.  This could be some sort of pocket dimension.  I could be dreaming, or I could be in a coma.  I looked back in the locker, my eyes fixated on the red jockstrap.  It looked like it had already been worn and was a size too big for my skinny frame, but for some reason, I felt an urge to put it on.  I stripped out of my dripping boxers and put on the jockstrap.

To my surprise, it actually fit perfectly around my crotch area.  I expected to feel uncomfortable, but instead I felt liberated.  If only there was a mirror in here.  My cock bulged as it stretched out the red fabric.  I could’ve sworn it looked bigger, but I knew I was just imagining things.  Regardless, I felt faster and full of stamina and virility.

I was not an athlete though.  Only the jocks wore jockstraps, and I hated them, but I couldn’t even remember why.  Why was I so mad at Kyle earlier?  My memories of today started to blur.  I couldn’t think straight.  I couldn’t remember anything.  I had no comprehension of time anymore.  Who knows how long I have been in here.  I sprinted ahead down the hallway, with a newfound sense of energy that I had never felt before, as I needed to find locker 51334.  The heavy sound of my big feet created a steady rhythm, almost like a drum.  My body seemed to move on its own like it was on autopilot.

As I ran forward, the audio grew louder, yet the words remained just as shrouded as they were before.  Despite that, I felt like I started to understand the words deep down.  A weird contradiction, I know.  Wherever the source of the noise was, it had to be coming from that direction.  I knew in my heart that this was the right way.

I kept on going for what could’ve been hours.  Who even knows at this point.  The concept of time was foreign to this place.  If you told me I was gone for a week, I’d believe you.  I kept on finding the same drinks from earlier on benches scattered around.  They were the only thing keeping my head in the game.  They gave me strength, but eventually I stopped seeing them as I became reminded by the intense heat of the room and of all the dead ends I had run into.  I had to be in the 40000s as I began to feel fatigue again and it felt like my body was finally about to give in.  My body felt sore and swollen as if I was still recovering from a workout.  Workout?  Since when did I care about the gym?  Maybe this jockstrap was rubbing off on me more than I thought.  But I’ll never be like Kyle or the other jocks, I assured myself.

I kept going.  My body was pushing itself to the limit, while my mind started to wander.  I became worried that I was gonna miss the game that was on tonight.  Me and the bros were going to watch it together and I didn’t want to miss it.  I couldn’t even comprehend how unnatural these thoughts felt.  I should be thinking about playing the new update for my favorite MMO, not watching sports.  But bros always come first…

I felt like I was going crazy, like this giant locker room maze was having an effect on me.  I was awakened from my trance by a sudden realization.  I needed to get to practice.  It was like an alarm clock went off in my head.  The last thing I wanted was to get dropped from the team due to poor attendance.  This renewed sense of urgency was what kept me going instead of passing out from the heat and exhaustion.

At long last, I was greeted by a room that was surprisingly familiar to me.  It felt like a second home to me.  It was like the actual locker room in my school, but on a larger scale.  I looked at the number next to me.  50000.  This had to be the right way.  I was almost there.  The background noise was at its loudest here, but I still could not find any source, but at this point I didn’t mind it.  It honestly helped me calm down a little.  I checked every locker in this large room, until I saw it.  51334.  It was half open, so I pried it open, with a sense of strength that I had never felt before.  Inside the locker, I found another note and a larger bottle of the same drink.  I gulped every drop down like I had just found an oasis.  This one tasted better even compared to the rest.  I read the note, hoping to be free from my prison.

“Inside the locker you will hide”

“The way back is on the flipped side”

I had to get in the locker?  It was a weird instruction, but I followed the orders.  I was surprised I was able to fit into it with my bulky build.  I turned to the other side to read what it said.  My eyes widened as I felt a sense of dread run down my spine.

“Close the door but don’t be shocked”

“When you wake up, you’ll be a jock!”

Shit, I didn’t want to become one of the jocks!  I valued my intelligence too much to stoop down to their level.  But it was already too late as the door shut itself on its own and I felt the ground below me vibrate.  Was this truly the only way out or was I doomed to join them from the start?  I tried to break my way free, but my strength dwindled as my eyes dulled and I passed out from exhaustion.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up on one of the benches to the sound of metal and heavy chatter.  To my relief, I was finally back in the real world.  The football team was getting ready for practice.  Damn, I really did miss the whole day.  To make things worse, Kyle was standing right over me.  Great.  Despite everything though, I actually kinda missed him.  That was probably the first sign that something was very wrong with me.

“Bro, wake up!” he said as he shook me.  I looked down.  I was dripping in sweat and I was wearing only my jockstrap.  The fact that I was wearing the same red jockstrap was proof that it wasn’t a dream.  “You alright dude?  Coach says you were passed out here for hours!”

I regained my consciousness, surprised to see him concerned for me.  “Bro, you’ll never guess what happened.  I was in this, like, weird maze, dude.  Lockers everywhere.”  I was genuinely shocked by the words that came out of my mouth.  I sounded like a total dudebro.

“Bro, are you high?  What are you talking about?”  Kyle chuckled at how absurd I sounded.  I felt embarrassed because I honestly sounded as stupid as him.

“I’m not lying, bro!  There was a door right there!”  I got up and pointed towards where the door should be.  It wasn’t there.  I looked like I was insane.

“You sure you’re okay after gym, bro?  I figured you’d catch that dodgeball since you’re such a good wide receiver.  Must’ve gone too hard.  Practice should help clear your head.”

“Practice?  Wide receiver?  What the fuck are you talking about?”  I didn’t play any sports.  Before today, I didn’t even know any teams outside of famous ones and the ones local to us.  I didn’t know any positions, any rules, or any players.  If that was the case, then why did it all feel so familiar to me?

“Did you lose your memory or some shit?  Let me refresh you, bro.  You play football and you’re our wide receiver.  You hang out with me and the boys every day.  You’re a total jock, bro.  You’re hardly a genius, but surely that rings a bell, right dude?”  My eyes became fixated on his charming blue eyes, and I felt myself sink into them as if they were the ocean, as he reminded me about my place in the world.  Finally, things started to make sense…but…

What the fuck?  You hated Kyle.  You didn’t play football.  You weren’t friends!  But for some reason, that didn’t seem right.

You loved Kyle.  He was one of your best friends.  You guys played football together.  You guys basically ruled the school.  You didn’t need to think much because you compensated with raw strength and power.  Brawn over brains, bro.  You were a jock and you always will be one.

“Huhu…Now you’re making sense bro,”  I chuckled.  I only now realized how much I changed, with how deep my voice was.  How much of a cocky douchebag I looked with that smirk plastered on my face.  How much bigger and stronger and taller I was.  How toned and perfect every muscle in my jock body was.  I should hate this, but why does it feel so good?  “I had a dream that I was someone else.  A total nerd, bro.  It was awful.”

“That person never existed.  This is who you were and always will be.  Just think back to when we met, bro.”  He said it with his usual cocky grin, but I felt no malice from it.  I assumed he was gaslighting me into believing that I lived a different life, but he seemed genuine.  I remembered him cracking up at one of my dumb jokes at practice and we started hanging out both in and out of school.  Memories of the practices and football games and parties we shared filled my mind and I smiled as I looked fondly back on those days.  No…I shouldn’t remember this.  But for some reason, it all felt real to me, like I accidentally stumbled into some parallel universe where I was one of Kyle’s jock bros.

I felt any semblance of my former self lose control as my jock self remembered that he was the only me.  I was an intruder in my jock body, someone that was never there and shouldn’t be there.  I felt my thoughts slow down as my new self started overwriting any old memories with his own, and I started to remember who I really was, a jock.  I wanted to die inside, watching me become another asshole jock just like Kyle, but as I was fading away, I started to remember why I liked being a jock so much in the first place.  I got to be big, strong, and popular.  I could fuck anyone I wanted with my massive cock.  Who cared if I was a little dense?  Definitely outweighed being a fucking nerd.  I knew it was the jock in me talking, but it didn’t matter anymore because that’s all I was now.  My cock bulged further in my jockstrap as my conscious mind was engulfed by my real self.

“Sorry bro, it’s just been a crazy day.  Let's get ready for practice.”

“You’re going to practice in just that?  Haven’t gotten off yet today, bro?”  Kyle chuckled, pointing at my red jockstrap, which was already leaking with precum.  I became embarrassed as I noticed the damp stain on my favorite jockstrap.  And that Kyle was staring right at my 9 inch bulge.

“Nah, bro.  I gotta get changed.  Why are you looking at my dick, bro?”  I became defensive, not comfortable with one of my bros staring at my erect cock.  Kyle was hot and all, but this just felt wrong to me.

Kyle stammered, looking for an excuse.  I could’ve sworn that his bulge grew as well in his tight football pants.  “I just never realized how big it is, bro.  No homo though.”  He snickered, trying to ease the sexual tension.  “Come on, Coach will be pissed if we take too long.  Probably will make us run extra laps.”  Before we left, I took one look in the mirror to admire my awesome body before joining Kyle and the others.

I had been playing football ever since I was in middle school so it’s no surprise that I was a natural.  I worked up a serious sweat, but it was nothing I wasn’t used to with Coach’s exercises.  He worked us to the bone every day.  When I came home, my mom was cooking dinner and she asked me how practice was, and I told her good as usual with a smile on my face.  For a second, I was surprised my mom knew I played football, but then I remembered that my parents were always supportive of my athletic career.  They always dropped their plans to cheer me on at my games.

Later, Kyle invited me and the bros over to watch the game.  I went over there as I had done many times before and I was greeted by my bros, people who I’ve known for just as long as Kyle.  After all, If they were his bros, they were my bros.  We laughed and joked around as we always did until the game started.

We gathered into Kyle’s room, big enough for seven guys, but man did I forget how much we reeked after practice.  We always shouted a ton during the game and I’m honestly surprised we never got any noise complaints from the neighbors.  It was like our own little frat party hosted in Kyle’s room.  We got really into it, but we were devastated when the opposing team scored in the last minute to gain the lead and win the game.  A wave of sadness and anger filled the air as everyone started to leave.  Everyone but me.  Kyle told me to stay for a little bit longer.

“Are you gonna make me feel better or what?”  he ordered.  He was really upset about the loss.

“How, bro?”  I responded.  Did he want me to crack a joke for him?  Give him a bro hug?

“I figured you remembered.  I need someone to relieve my stress.”  He grabbed his massive cock in his shorts and wiggled it around, helping me put two and two together.  “We found out one drunk night how good of a cocksucker you are, so you agreed to ‘lend me a hand’ if I ever need it.  Don’t worry, this is our little secret.”

“Oh, sorry bro.  I completely forgot.”  God, that was a wild night.  It was an embarrassing request, but I knew I was just helping a brother out.  I got on my knees and serviced Kyle as he made himself comfortable.  He grabbed the back of my head with his firm palms, covered with callouses from years of pumping iron, and pushed his girthy shaft deeper into the depths of my mouth.  I was surprised at my lack of a gag reflex as this mass of meat clogged my throat.  I swallowed load after load of his hot, sticky semen until we had enough.

“Gotta say, bro, you suck dick better than like 90 percent of chicks I’ve been with.  You sure you’re not a little faggy?”  he teased.  I laughed and rebuked his claims.  I’m sure even some straight guys would be tempted by him and his impressive rod, and I’m no different.  We quickly changed the subject and we pretended like that never happened.  Neither of us wanted the other to know how much we enjoyed it.

To this day, I don’t know what the purpose of the jockrooms was.  Doesn’t really matter though.  As far as I’ve known, I’ve always been a jock and that’s all anyone has ever seen me as.  It is real though.  It was after gym class a few weeks later.  When we were changing, I saw a nerd, Kevin, walk down the same hallway I did at one point.  I felt like I knew him at one point, but that obviously wasn’t true.  Why would I hang out with someone like him?  I hid around the corner and watched as he approached the red door.  I smirked as he put his hand on the door and opened it, taking his first steps into his new life.  If you can’t beat us, you might as well join us.

I was eager to see Kevin at practice later.  He woke up on the same bench I did, wearing a jockstrap like me, almost completely unrecognizable from the person he was hours ago.  He took a moment to adjust, but we helped him remember how much of a jock he was.  Once a jock, always a jock.  I will never understand why the two of us thought we were nerds before.  After all, I’ve known Kev most of my life and I was the one who introduced him to Kyle and the others.  He’s been my best friend since 3rd grade and we were inseparable.  We were practically in sync on the field.  It felt awesome knowing that we were the kings of the school, and whoever hated us was just jealous that they’re not us.

[yanderenightmare]

idk if you write for naoya but i have an idea...maybe darling is like maki but actually weak and naoya bullies and takes advantage of them?

love your work btw!! <3

JJK ! IMAGINE

Zenin Naoya x maid ! darling

TW: yandere, mentions of abuse, bullying

Proposal Gift

Sharp hazel eyes follow you in your innocence, narrowing while he judges – concluding once again, as he’d done before, that there really isn’t a single cursed bone in you – only a humble body of warm squeezable flesh and a heart he bets is all too easy to break.

You’ve always been like that. Quick to smile and quick to cry. A bundle of emotions unfit to be raised in such a ruthless clan.

He’s a few years older than you and remembers well what a weak constitution you’ve always had. Anyone could see it, and everyone knew it from the moment you were born – you were never going to amount to much.

He used to find your weakness quite disgusting – used to push your face into the gravel until snot and tears would wet the dirt in a pitiful puddle – with his foot pressed down between your shoulder blades – sometimes until hearing a pop and shriek loud enough to echo off the walls. With words cutting even deeper – telling you what a curse you were, born so weak and so useless – a stain on the great Zenin name.

But now that you’ve grown up, he bites his tongue – silently watching with a strange type of lusty entitlement forming in his gut…

He’s only been away on a mission for a handful of months – who’d have known he’d come back to see you grown into something so… precious.

You’re the prettiest out of the maids – the cutest one too, and undoubtedly the sweetest as well. Walking about the garden where you have most of your chores – watering plants in the sun and picking herbs for healing. You’re quiet and graceful, taking slow steps in your plank shoes that knock softly on the tiles where you peacefully wade through the maze in a pretty flower-patterned yukata.

You look nothing like the snot-nosed brat he’d left in the dirt. You have a swell of breasts now and a feminine face wiped clean of soot – painted with pretty red on your lips and fresh blue on your eyes.

You’re a lady now.

And while your weakness used to disgust him, he’s now realizing what a blessing it is instead. Smirking the more he glares at you – now sitting on a bench in the shade doing some hand stitching, knowing no ill will – he understands he’s quite lucky you turned out such a fragile little thing.

“Naoya-sama-” You spluttered, eyes widening into big round glass orbs.

Jumping to your feet, you nearly threw your needlework down on the bench before folding your fingers together and bowing – much lower than necessary – with a rush that could only be excused with fear.

You hadn’t known he was back yet and felt the surprise like a vice grip wrapped tight around your throat.

Swallowing thickly, you made your excuse while maintaining your bow, praying he’d show you mercy. “Pardon my lack of awareness- I was absorbed in my chores, you see- please forgive me-”

He folded his hands within his pants and raised his chin with a smirk at your spluttering, licking his teeth in enjoyment at your pretty display of courtesy. Eyeing you for a long moment before speaking, mainly to watch you begin to tremble in the wait – cutely dreading the bite of his punishment.

But punishing you wasn't what he was interested in at the moment.

“You’re not in maid robes.” He said instead, ignoring your previous stuttering. His face, jaded with a tone just as callous, aided by that weighty air of authority he always has surrounding him – the one that never fails to make your skin feel raw in the cold.

“Oh-” You fumbled, halting at his lack of anger – wary of the unexpected behavior as it was pretty odd for him not to jump at the opportunity to punish someone like you if and when the chance presented itself.

Though, it wasn’t yet decided he wouldn’t do just that – the way his steely and strangling presence nearly knocked you over with its vicious intensity alone – staring you down sharply with that otherwise smooth hazel.

In return, you had your doe-eyes yielding and down-cast, eying your fabrics with a bite to your lip – trying to keep your voice from shivering while uttering the next line, heat in your cheeks while at it. “These are- uhm- proposal gifts I’ve been asked to wear.”

He snorted at that, and you flinched at the abrasive sound – eyes shifty while eyeing the ground, lowering your head some more, looking down at the paint on your toenails instead.

“From whom?” He asked a beat later.

Your brows pinched at his curiosity and how awfully unlike him it was. Naoya-sama had never struck you as the type to make trivial conversation, especially with the likes of you. 

“I’m- uhm- not exactly sure…” You confessed, twiddling your fingers. “You see, Father doesn’t want to confuse me- after all… it’ll be his decision in the end, anyway.” 

You kept your head bowed while explaining, feeling awkward before him. Trying to think of a time when he’d paid any type of regard to you or your life – remembering none.

“B- but my marital status must be of no interest to you, Naoya-sama.” You blurted then, finding it to be a rather strange matter to discuss with him of all people.

But all the man responded with was a slight hum, keeping his gaze on you and the way you timidly glanced up at him only to look away when seeing him stare back. 

Ears burning, you chewed and sucked your lip under his glare, thinking of how badly you’d witness him beating other maids – having needed to treat many a cut and gash and bruise and broken bone he’d left on bodies much smaller than himself – not to mention the ones on your own frail self he’d given you in your youth. 

“Please excuse my arrogance-” Your memory prompted you to gush. “Doing anything but welcome you home from your mission is rude of me- I heard you lead our clan into many victories- you must be very proud.”

You decided to try you r luck charming him instead, hoping it could sway him from the urge to hurt you.

“Or maybe it doesn’t come as a surprise anymore. You’ve always been rather strong, after all.” You continued but choked on it only a second later – spurring with yet another apology on your lips. “That was thoughtless of me to say- you should feel proud either way- please forgive me for my stupid words, Naoya-sama- I fear the heat has gone to my head and made a complete airhead out of me…”

But despite the obvious hints of regret and panic in your draining face, the man gave no indication of even having heard what you’d said until offering your ramble another rather unusually relaxed response.

“It’s true.” He agreed – much to your surprise, where you’d braced your face for a backhand and your stomach for a gut punch. “It’s become boring.” 

You dared glance up at him through the lashes of your bow – only to see his face still as expressionless as always – a type of stone-cold that made the hairs at your nape rise.

“Still… you must be tired from the trip, if not the mission” You softly started in spite of it – hoping to end the conversation soon. “You shouldn’t stay out here in the sun for too long…” You tried, praying he couldn’t see straight through your intentions. “And- uhm- I should really hurry along- help prep supper for you and your soldiers with the other maids.” You excused, once again bowing your head, waiting for his nod of dismissal – ever relieved when he gave it.

You swallowed your tremors, feeling lightheaded and dizzy while offering up whatever type of smile you could muster.

“It was good seeing you, Naoya-sama.” You lied. “Welcome home.”

You bowed yet again, dismissing yourself before turning and leaving him.

He kept his eyes fixed on you despite it. Observing the distressed spring in your step and how it disturbed the former peace you walked the gardens with earlier. 

A smile inched up his face watching it.

You look very nice in his proposal gift.

He looks forward to having you in his bed.

tip-jar: Kofi

[thefty-o]

Arab uncle drains his nephew

Samir yawned and stretched as he got out of bed, his dusky olive skin contrasting against the crisp white of his cotton thobe. At 45, the Lebanese father of three was starting to feel his age. He caught a glimpse of himself in the ornate gilt-framed mirror and sighed. While he'd never been a large man, his formerly lean physique was starting to soften, his stomach rounding out above his sirwal and his arms losing their wiry tone.

"Yallah, I need to start exercising again," he muttered to himself, stroking his neatly trimmed beard.

As he headed to the bathroom, he nearly collided with a wall of tawny muscle. His nephew Tariq, who was staying with them for the summer, loomed in the doorway, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat from his morning prayers and calisthenics. The 20-year-old was an absolute Adonis, his tall, powerful frame packed with perfectly sculpted brawn, straining the seams of his sleeveless white thobe. His traditional red and white shemagh was slightly askew, untamed black curls peeking out, framing his striking aquiline features and smoldering dark eyes.

"Sabah al-khair, 'Ammu Samir," Tariq rumbled in his deep, resonant baritone, his voice rich with the musical cadence of Levantine Arabic. "You look like you could use some cardamom coffee to put some pep in your step, old man. I know your constitution isn't what it used to be."

Samir flushed, biting back a retort. "Shukran, but I think I can manage," he said stiffly. It was just good-natured ribbing, he told himself, even as he felt a pang of envy at Tariq's effortless virility. What he wouldn't give for a taste of that youthful power and vigor.

As he brushed past Tariq into the bathroom, their bare arms touched. Instantly, Samir felt a jolt of electricity crackle through him. He gasped, bracing himself against the marble sink as a wave of dizziness washed over him. In the mirror, he swore his reflection was... changing?

Before his eyes, the soft flab melted off his frame. His midsection tightened, hints of abs peeking through the gap in his thobe. His arms and legs regained the lean, wiry musculature of his youth, his biceps filling out the sleeves of his undershirt. His slouched shoulders straightened and broadened, his posture improving to project a newfound confidence. He looked robust, vital, like a man ten years younger.

Tariq suddenly shuddered in the mirror behind him and Samir startled. Was his nephew slouching? Samir could have sworn that he used to be eye level with the boy's plump pecs, but now he was staring right into their center.

"Mashallah, 'Ammu, looking good," Tariq said, clapping a massive paw on Samir's newly sturdy shoulder. "A few months training with me and inshallah, you'll be almost as big and strong as your nephew, eh?"

He threw Samir a wink and sauntered out, his sandaled feet nearly cracking the marble tile with each heavy step. Samir shook his head wryly. Tariq had always been a big boy - clearly took after his father's side. Perhaps with this newfound energy, he would take the young man up on his offer to get back in shape.

...

A few days later, Samir found himself in the makeshift gym in the garage, spotting Tariq as he benched a truly prodigious amount of weight, grunting Arabic encouragements. Tariq's performance was flagging slightly, his reps slower and more labored than last week. He was still monstrously strong, but perhaps not the utterly untouchable mountain of power he'd been before.

As they racked the weights and sat up, Tariq's sweaty arm brushed Samir's... and again, that electric jolt, that head rush. Samir watched in awe as his own arms seemed to swell before his eyes, his biceps and triceps growing, pulsing with vascular striations. His shoulders broadened, stretching his sweat-soaked sleeveless tee. Pectoral muscles barreled out above his tight six-pack, two brawny slabs of beef heaving with new mass.

It was as if he'd gained 20 lbs of muscle on the spot. He looked like he lifted seriously now, his frame dense with carved, powerful sinew and brawn. Tariq, on the other hand, while still unquestionably huge and imposing, seemed slightly... diminished. A little shorter, a tad less impossibly broad and thick. He looked more like the biggest, buffest guy at the mosque now rather than an avatar of masculine perfection.

"Wallahi, 'Ammu!" Tariq exclaimed, a note of surprise and something almost like unease creeping into his usually unflappably cocky tone. "What's your secret? I swear you get bigger by the day!"

Samir just smirked and flexed a bulging bicep, feeling a thrill as he watched his nephew's gaze widen with shock and awe at the size and definition. "Maybe you've been slacking on the halal meat, son," he teased. "Need to get more protein to maintain those gains."

Tariq just laughed, but there was a strained quality to it, his dark eyes flickering with an unsettled light. "We'll see, old man. Race you to the shisha lounge?"

He took off, and if his stride was a bit less than its usual loping, ground-devouring, leg-powered swagger, Samir didn't comment. He followed at an easier pace, enjoying the unfamiliar heft and solidity of his new, enhanced muscles. Something had shifted between them, and they could both feel it.

...

A week later, Samir woke up feeling like a new man. No, like a king, a titan, a conqueror of old. He practically bounded out of bed, 250 lbs of densely packed, heavily striated Arab muscle quivering and flexing with coiled power. He felt invincible, brimming with vitality, virility, and masculine energy straining to be unleashed.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror and had to stifle a shout of triumphant joy. He was magnificent, his tall, heroically proportioned body an anatomy chart of musculature, all broad planes and deep cuts and hulking, vein-streaked brawn. His thobe had ridden up as he slept, exposing a mastodon cock throbbing half-mast against his deeply corrugated abs, a thick, wrist-thick pillar of pride and potency. His heavy balls churned visibly in their overstuffed sack, swollen with seed and the sacred essence of a true alpha.

"Allahu akbar," Samir breathed reverently. He was a living incarnation of the male ideal now, a pinnacle of strength and virility that surpassed any man he had ever known - including, he realized with a dark thrill, his nephew Tariq. He could feel it in his gigantic, steel-cable muscles, his raging monsoon of testosterone-fueled might - he was the dominant one now, the apex predator. Tariq had nothing on him anymore.

As if on cue, there was a tentative knock on the door. "'Ammu Samir?" came Tariq's voice, reedy and thin in contrast to the booming bass Samir remembered. "I, uh, I think there may have been a mixup with our clothes at the laundry. I seem to have shrunk out of a lot of mine somehow..."

"Faddal," Samir called, his voice a low, authoritative rumble that vibrated through his cavernous chest. Enter.

The boy who slunk through the door was barely recognizable as the swaggering erotic demigod of a few weeks ago. Oh, he was still handsome enough in a coltish, pretty boy way, with an athletic swimmer's build, but next to Samir's towering, mega-muscled hypermasculinity he looked downright scrawny. His eyes widened to saucers and his full lips parted in an audible gasp as he took in his uncle's massive, naked body, his gaze immediately drawn to the throbbing log of manflesh sitting heavily atop Samir's deeply ribbed washboard midsection.

"M-Maa shaa' Allah, 'Ammu," Tariq stammered, face flushed, a visible tenting rising in his loose sirwal. "You... what... I mean... Subhan Allah, you're enormous..."

"Alhamdulillah," Samir purred, flexing his planetoid biceps with a low growl of power, his pecs and lats flaring out even wider, his cock jumping and pulsing against his abs. "What's wrong, little one? Never seen a real man before? Intimidated to be in the presence of your true alpha uncle?"

Tariq made a small, choked noise, his eyes glazing over with lust and worship, his lithe body trembling. The boy was clearly in thrall to Samir's extreme muscularity, the raw sexual power and masculinity rolling off him in waves. He looked ready to fall to his knees and service his supreme elder on the spot.

"Don't worry, nephew. You'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with your new place," Samir rumbled, voice thick with sadistic amusement, reaching out to roughly palm Tariq's pretty face with one huge, calloused mitt. "Wallahi, I'm going to enjoy breaking you in. By the time I'm done with this little zakar of yours, you'll be my perfect little eromenos. The only thing that overactive aql of yours will be able to think about is worshipping your 'Ammu's ripped, massive body."

Slowly, almost tenderly, he pushed his thumb into Tariq's slack mouth, making the boy gag and sputter as he forced it in up to the knuckle.

"Shh, shh, just submitted," Samir crooned darkly as Tariq's eyes bulged and watered, weakly trying to pull away. "Salim and accept your place, little one. You're going to become very familiar with parts of 'Ammu much bigger than this."

And with his other hand, he reached down and grabbed the root of his titanically engorged manhood, slowly, almost lovingly smacking his nephew's spit-slick cheek with the girthy, vein-ravaged shaft.

"Mmm, such a pretty little face," he groaned, his voice a low Arabic growl. "Going to look even better stretched around my horse cock. Open up, 'azizi. Your new life as 'Ammu's sharmuta starts now."

And with that, he pulled his thumb out only to replace it with the blunt, leaking head of his inhumanly huge erection, groaning in pure alpha male bliss as he watched his nephew's throat visibly distend and bulge obscenely around his girth.

Oh yes, this was going to be very good indeed, Samir thought as he prepared to orally break in his new fuck toy. And it was only the beginning of Tariq's training to be the perfect submissive receptacle for his dominant alpha seed...

[reasonsforhope]

A federal judge appointed by Donald Trump ruled late Friday night that Tennessee’s Adult Entertainment Act (AEA), which would restrict drag performances in the state and threaten performers who violate the law with felony criminal penalties, is unconstitutional.

“The Tennessee General Assembly can certainly use its mandate to pass laws that their communities demand,” U.S. District Judge Thomas Parker wrote. “But that mandate as to speech is limited by the First Amendment to the United States Constitution, which commands that laws infringing on the Freedom of Speech must be narrow and well-defined. The AEA is neither.”

Parker, appointed to the bench in 2017, found after a two-day trial that the law — criminalizing “adult cabaret entertainment” performances anywhere “where the adult cabaret entertainment could be viewed by a person who is not an adult” — is unconstitutional on several grounds.

Parker did not shy away from the underlying issues, either.

“The word ‘drag’ never appears in the text of the AEA,” Parker wrote. “But the Court cannot escape that ‘drag’ was the one common thread in all three specific examples of conduct that was considered ‘harmful to minors,’ in the legislative transcript.”

After detailing that legislative history, as shown in four transcripts reviewed by the court, Parker found that “the legislative transcript strongly suggests that the AEA was passed for an impermissible purpose.”

That “impermissible purpose,” Parker found, was “chilling constitutionally-protected speech.”

-via Law Dork, 6/3/23

[patriottruth]

This is an hourly reminder that on March 4th, 2024, the Supreme Court of the United States ordered donald j. trump to have 87 Democrats in both houses of Congress remove his insurrectionist disqualification from ever holding any federal office again. He failed to do so prior to November 5, 2024.

What that means is that between now and December 17th, 2024, donald j. trump has no choice but to go to Congress and have 70 Democrats in the House of Representatives and 17 Democrats in the Senate vote to remove his insurrectionist disqualification, as he was ordered to do by SCOTUS on March 4th, 2024, or he's not legally the President Elect and cannot be inaugurated, sworn in, or hold federal office again on January 20, 2025. The clock is ticking!

Here's an evening update on why this will work. donald trump's legal tactics are deny, attempt to wiggle out of it on technicalities, and delay, delay, delay. Well, from November 2023 to March 4, 2024, donald trump not only said that he was never an officer of the United States, but that he also never swore an oath to support the United States Constitution. And then he said that Section 3 of the 14th Amendment says nothing about running for office, only holding office, and since he's only running for office, nothing can keep him off the ballot. And that's where this has finally caught up to him.

SCOTUS illegally took the case to begin with. SCOTUS was required to kick the case back to Congress immediately to force a two-thirds of both houses vote to remove donald trump's insurrectionist disqualification. But they illegally denied Congress the ability to vote on it at the time, illegally legislated from the bench to keep donald trump on the ballot by illegally amending Section 3 of the 14th Amendment of the United States Constitution, and dismissed the clear two-thirds vote requirement to replace it with "Congress must pass new legislation and amend Section 3 of the 14th Amendment in order to keep insurrectionists off of the ballot and out of office in the future. All six MAGA SCOTUS injustices can now be immediately and permanently disbarred from ever judging or practicing law anywhere in the United States now and in the future for that illegal legislating from the bench; because the U.S. Constitution clearly says that the Judiciary can never interfere with Congress legislating, or with the President enforcing the laws of the United States.

donald trump and his allies figured that was a win, that SCOTUS couldn't be challenged, that the Democrats could never get legislation passed to keep him off the ballot or from holding office again, and the matter was dropped. But that's where he was wrong; because Section 3 of the 14th Amendment still reads, and only legally reads, that the only way an insurrectionist can hold federal office again is by a two-thirds vote in both the House of Representatives and the Senate; and that means that now that donald trump can't try and use the technicality of "I'm not even trying to hold office, I'm just running for office," and he's actively trying to hold office with no technicality wiggle room, donald trump's only path to the White House is to have 70 Democrats in the House of Representatives and 17 Democrats in the Senate vote to remove his insurrectionist disqualification by December 17th, 2017; and his favorite tactic of delay, delay, delay won't work because delaying means he can't be inaugurated, sworn in, and serve as the 47th President of the United States; and that means Kamala Harris would become 47th President of the United States by default.

If anyone is interested in fighting another trump presidency, contact every Democrat representative in the House of Representatives and the Senate and remind them that donald j. trump cannot be inaugurated, sworn in, and be the 47th President of the United States on January 20, 2025 unless 70 Democrats in the House of Representatives and 17 Democrats in the Senate vote to remove his insurrectionist disqualification before December 17, 2024. Many of them have online contact forms. You may have to enter an address near their local office in their district for the contact form to go through, but I know they're going to want to be reminded of this by as many people as possible in order to save humanity and American democracy from donald trump. Plus, Kamala Harris can be contacted via the White House Vice President contact form; and as a presidential candidate and the President of the Senate, she and President Biden can do a lot to enforce donald trump having to have his insurrectionist disqualification removed by a two-thirds vote of the House of Representatives and the Senate before December 17, 2024.

Rachel Maddow: Why was donald trump's campaign telling his supporters not to vote, they don't need any votes, and to skip the polls?

[wilwheaton]

A Trump appointee with little experience on the bench, Cannon was then randomly assigned to preside over the criminal case when Trump was indicted in June. Meanwhile, a string of errors she’s made in her short time as a judge has come to light. Her most recent hiccup came in June, when she closed jury selection in a child pornography case—denying the defendant’s family and others a seat in the courtroom to watch jury selection. The misstep, an apparent violation of the constitutional right to a public trial, nearly invalidated the proceedings entirely. She also neglected to swear in a prospective jury pool—a mandatory procedure. Cannon, 42, was appointed by Trump in the waning days of his presidency in 2020. She’d been a federal prosecutor for seven years, but has only been a part of eight criminal trials that resulted in jury verdicts—four as a prosecutor and four as a judge. She’s spent a total of just 14 days in trial as a federal judge, The New York Times reported.

Judge Aileen Cannon Comes Out Swinging in Trump’s Favor (Again) in Classified Docs Case

Cannon was deemed UNQUALIFIED by the American Bar Association. In her FOURTEEN DAYS of activity on the bench, she’s confirmed that, over and over again.

This political operative masquerading as a federal judge is a disgrace. She needs to be impeached and removed from the bench.

[merlyn-bane]

Brought to you by ao3 being down during a slow night at work, please have the fade to black scene from chapter one of home (is where you build it), um, un-faded. Spice below the cut ;)

Obi-Wan isn’t quite certain how he ended up here.

“Ah—ah—!”

He’d managed to deliver the leftover pizza successfully, despite the debacle at the front door. The firefighters on shift had all seemed to be very grateful for the surprise of free food, despite the fact that it’d been cold and there certainly hadn’t been quite enough of it to go around. He’d been invited to come in for a bit, and watched several of the men appear to wrestle over the rights to the pizza—only to ultimately lose out to those smart enough to wait until they were distracted—while Cody and Bly introduced them by name. 

“Fuck,”

Cody’d asked him out for a drink after that, Obi-Wan remembers. Apparently he wasn’t actually scheduled to be on duty that night or something and was only there to help Bly out with—something, so he’d been free to leave. Quin had naturally been far too happy to hang out at home with the already-sleeping kids so Obi-Wan could socialize.

He certainly isn’t complaining now. 

Cody shifts between his legs, rocking up to press his mouth to the sensitive spot just under Obi-Wan’s ear once more just to listen to him gasp. He lets a bit more of his weight press down against Obi-Wan, pinning him between the solid heat of Cody’s body and the creaking leather of the front bench seat of Cody’s truck. Obi-Wan grips at Cody’s shoulders, scrambling to hold on when the other man rocks forward.

One of Cody’s hands finds its way up underneath Obi-Wan’s shirt and settles just above his hip, burning like a brand, and Cody lets out a low moan when Obi-Wan can’t help but arch up into it.

They’d gone to some—small bar, or brewery? Obi-Wan’s fuzzy on the details, now. He certainly can’t remember the name of the establishment, or even really what the beer he’d had had tasted like. All he remembers is Cody’s smile, and how easily the conversation had flowed once Obi-Wan managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

Cody’s fingers—thick, clever fingers—find the closure of Obi-Wan’s jeans, and that more or less constitutes the end of his musings on the subject.

The buttons and fly put up very little resistance, and then Cody’s pushing his pants and underwear down past his ass. Obi-Wan makes a questioning sound when he stops there rather than removing them entirely, and Cody huffs a little laugh before pushing himself up with one hand just enough to allow him to press a series of brief but heated kisses against his mouth. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Cody pants in between kisses, “I don’t have any lube or condoms on me.” Obi-Wan whines a wordless complaint high in his throat—he believes him, Cody certainly does sound very disappointed and very contrite, but Obi-Wan would rather desperately like to be fucked—and earns another breathy chuckle from the devastatingly attractive man on top of him. “I wasn’t expecting a pretty thing like you to fall into my lap tonight. I know, I know. Trust me, I really wanna fuck you, too. I bet you feel so good, Obi, fuck.” Obi-Wan whines again at the words, at the low timbre of his voice, at everything, helpless not to. Cody shushes him softly, only for Obi-Wan to buck and gasp when warm calloused fingers wrap around his cock unexpectedly. “How about this, hmm? Can I stroke you off? I bet you look so pretty when you come.”

“Damn you,” Obi-Wan swears emphatically, boiling under his skin. He bats Cody’s hand away—immediately mourning the loss—and then goes right for the other man’s belt buckle. Cody stares at him, slack-jawed, only to hiss when Obi-Wan wraps his own fingers around Cody’s cock to pull it from his underwear.

Oh, holy fuck.

Obi-Wan forcibly shakes himself from the oncoming stupor before he spends the rest of the night simply staring at the other man’s gorgeous, thick cock, ignoring the way his hole clenches around nothing with how badly he wants it inside him. They’ve already established that they can’t tonight, and if Obi-Wan doesn’t at least get to come, he may actually expire.

He takes hold of one of Cody’s hands and then makes deliberate eye-contact as he licks a broad, wet stripe across his palm. Cody’s jaw all but falls open in his surprise and—if Obi-Wan’s reading how blown his pupils have become—arousal, and Obi-Wan holds that eye-contact as he thoroughly coats Cody’s hands with as much saliva as he can manage. Cody makes a wounded noise and Obi-Wan sucks one of his fingers into his mouth; a little mean, perhaps, but he can’t help it. Honest. 

Cody growls low in his throat and then pulls his hand away from Obi-Wan’s mouth, his breathing already ragged. Both of them let out broken sounds at the first brush of their cocks together, thrusting into it, and then Cody is pumping, and pumping, his grip firm and sure and warm and every other wonderful thing, slick with Obi-Wan’s own spit as he strokes them both off together.

“Hold your shirt up for me, baby,” Cody pants out, “I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Obi-Wan moans but somehow manages to find the brain power in between thrusting up into Cody’s hand and against his cock, fisting the bottom hem of his top and yanking it up clear past his collarbone. Cody groans as his nipples are exposed, pebbled already, and squeezes just a little tighter—

Obi-Wan gives it up with a ragged cry and Cody follows right behind him, ropes of their combined spend painting Obi-Wan’s stomach and chest.

“Shit,” Cody breathes out, and Obi-Wan can’t help but agree.