#Spaser | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

on-a-lucky-tide · 4 years ago

Text

Day Eight: Tracks in the Snow

A/N: Aiden and Lambert have a fun tradition they indulge in every time Aiden winters at Kaer Morhen. Warnings: smut.

Lambert felt the excitement bubbling in his chest as the perfect layer of freshly fallen snow crunched underfoot. The turrets of Kaer Morhen loomed over his shoulder, but he wouldn’t be seeing them again for at least twenty-four hours. He was heading out into the wilderness with a handful of supplies, his swords and a heavy, fur-lined cloak.

Don’t get him wrong, he fucking hated winter, but there was one ritual that he’d taken to in recent years that made the frozen bollocks and growling stomachs of these spaser months so worth it.

Hunt. The. Kitty.

Oh yes.

It was the best hare-brained scheme Aiden had ever conceived, and it made every part of Lambert quake with anticipation. The end result was always a naked Aiden, smothered in blankets, with a warm fire, hot food and a bottle of ale. Some might call it a risky endeavour; the mountains were treacherous at the best of times, with avalanches following heavy snowfall, slumbering monsters hidden in their caverns and the ever present threat of hypothermia. But that was all part of the fun.

The thrill of the chase. The ever present danger of the wilderness. Lambert didn’t look back as he headed into the crisp winter morning, knowing full well that the others were watching him leave with heavy, judgemental gazes. Yeah, well, fuck ‘em.

Aiden was difficult prey. He trod lightly, backtracked and led Lambert in a merry circle around the keep. Lambert crouched by lifeless bushes and tall evergreens, running his gloved fingers across snapped twigs and disturbed undergrowth. The trail could be from anything - a grouse pecking at the bark, a fox hunting rabbits, a stray member of the scoia’tael wandering too high off the trail - but Lambert’s keen nose could pick up Aiden’s scent with ease. It was deep, almost saccharine, curling through him like an invisible hand beckoning him onwards.

The latest snowfall had covered most of the tracks, but Lambert still found the odd indentation here and there that betrayed recent humanoid activity. Aiden was making him work for it this year. At once point, he’d left the ground altogether, ascending into the trees to take a different path. Lambert followed the trail of skewed branches, the bark saturated with his lover’s scent. His heart thundered in his chest, the thrill greater than hunting even the most formidable of beasts. There was no chase to be had. When he found Aiden, his prize was assured.

It was the suspense. The building pressure in the pit of his stomach. As the trail became fresher, he could taste Aiden on the air. His mouth open as he panted, eager, almost desperate, to run his bare hands across scarred skin and mark it with his own imprints that no one else would ever see.

The tracks, scents and markers brought him to the foot of a sheer cliff. No one but a Witcher would be able to ascend its craggy face, and even then the more cumbersome of their brotherhood would find it an impossible task. Lambert had spent far too long in Aiden’s company to be considered cumbersome. He adjusted his sword belts, removed his gloves to improve his grip, and began his climb. It was gruelling. The muscles in his arms and thighs soon burned with exertion, panting breaths insufficient for the speed of his ascent; the faster his heart beat, the higher he climbed, the more excited he became.

Aiden.

He could practically hear his name in the wind. The lip of the ledge appeared and numb fingers preceded scuffed palms as he pulled himself over. His nose filled with the scent of the burning fires; mulled cider this year, not ale, cinnamon rolls and cooked meat. The picnic to reward the successful hunter. There was only one morsel Lambert was interested in though. The firelight lapped out the cave mouth, and as Lambert stepped beneath its shelter, he felt the warmth wash over him.

The blankets were laid out over the floor, with a few pillows scattered here and there. Aiden had prepared; in fact, Lambert was always baffled and humbled by how much effort his Cat put into this little game. He would’ve had to carry all of this up here by himself. Multiple trips, multiple days. He was as exhausted as every Witcher in that fucking keep, yet still he insisted. One of the blankets moved as Lambert strolled into the firelight, his pupils blown wide, his chest still heaving as his body recuperated the oxygen debt.

“A whole three hours quicker,” Aiden murmured as he slipped into view. His auburn hair hung loosely around his shoulders, his beard neatly trimmed, his luminescent green eyes that reminded Lambert of the forests beyond the mountains were piercing, mischievous.

“Hmm,” Lambert grunted. He picked loose one of the buckles on his belts and lifted his swords over his head; they fell to the floor with a loud thump, followed closely by the bag of meagre supplies he’d brought with him in case of a sudden blizzard. His sultry feline slipped across the floor, unfolding to his feet in a single, fluid movement that made the breath stick in Lambert’s throat. As Aiden drew closer, Lambert caught the whiff of sweet oils that only ever meant one thing; his lover had been working himself open while awaiting Lambert’s arrival.

Dexterous fingers pushed across his jaw, blunt nails raking over his beard, and his eyes fluttered with pleasure. Soft, warm lips breathed life back into his cold, chapped skin; a hot tongue that teased in gentle laps before Aiden pulled away with a final tug on his lower lip. He was completely naked, his cock already hard as it pressed against the chill leather of Lambert’s trousers. Aiden hissed and pulled back, lower lip jutted in a pout, as he stroked over the clasps and ties of Lambert’s gambeson. “Gonna’ make me beg, kitten?”

Lambert raised an eyebrow and then glanced meaningfully at the floor. He hadn’t touched Aiden but for their kiss, his arms down at his side, his fingers twitching as he held back on the desire to follow those crooked, white lines on olive skin. He didn’t need to say anything. Aiden sank slowly to his knees at Lambert’s feet and leaned forward to nuzzle over the prominent bulge in the front of his codpiece.

“Mmm, so good,” Aiden growled; hot breath condensing on chill leather as he drank in the musk of his wolf, picking open the ties with his teeth as he gripped the back of Lambert’s booted calves. He had to let them go to retrieve his prize though; Lambert’s arousal swelled down his trouser leg, the thick shaft trapped in folds of material. Aiden grinned as he finally slid his fingers down satin skin and heard the first stuttering breath of barely contained pleasure. There was a single bead of precome dripping from the slit, and Aiden extended his tongue to lap it up with just the tip.

Lambert clenched his teeth, vision swimming as he fought the desire to close his eyes, to grab the back of Aiden’s head and claim his mouth. The game wasn’t over. Not yet. That skilful tongue slipped over his frenulum in a salacious little wiggle as warm fingers slid down his length, following the contours of the thick, throbbing veins boasting the extent of his arousal. Aiden’s nose followed in their wake, burying in the dark, coarse curls around Lambert’s groin and balls. “Fuck, you’re delicious.” A low, feral growl as he drew back, and then finally sucked Lambert’s head into his mouth with a soft groan.

Finally Lambert allowed himself to touch. He slid his hands through that soft, auburn hair and gripped two fistfuls as Aiden’s head bobbed over him; the crackle of the fire accompanied by the filthy slurp of a hardworking mouth. Aiden swallowed him with effort, throat spasming as he choked himself in eagerness, his tongue swirling around every inch he could reach as he drew back. His fingers stroked gently over Lambert’s balls as they curled tight against his body, and the vibrations of his needy whines curled like a physical force at the base of Lambert’s spine.

“Enough,” Lambert croaked, grip tightening to pull Aiden off his cock. “Over there. The only place I want to come is inside you.”

Aiden purred in delight and scrambled out of Lambert’s grasp to the nest of pillows and blankets he’d spent several hours hauling up that damned cliff face. His spine arched as he dropped to his hands and knees, thighs splaying, fingers kneading eagerly; a wanton sprawl for Lambert to drink in as he stalked over in Aiden’s wake.

He’d been right about the preparation. Aiden’s hole was slick and puffy; the pink muscles relaxed enough for the girth of Lambert’s cock. The wolf sank to his knees between Aiden’s calves, one hand stroking gently over his hip while the other gripped the base of his cock. He tapped his shaft against that beautiful furl, clenching and eager. “Ask nicely.”

“Lambert,” Aiden dropped his face into his forearms with an irritated growl. “Fuck me. Please.” Hissed through clenched teeth, only for his face to fall completely slack when Lambert lined up and sank into him in one hard thrust. There was something decadent about his lover being fully clothed when they fucked for the first time; his armour still in place, the reinforced metal of his boots scraping across the cave floor as he thrust with slow, graceful rolls of the hips.

Aiden could feel the cool texture of his leather chaps against his balls, the harsh hem of his gambeson on the tender skin of his ass, and it made him shake with need. “Fuck, fuck… Lambert, fucking… ahh.” With the final crumbs of his composure, Aiden looked over his shoulder to marvel at the sight of his wolf coming undone; his head thrown back, his sunstone yellow eyes closed as his full lips parted. The grip on his hips was gentle, but commanding; Aiden was his to claim. “Please, please… harder, I need it--hngh!”

The pace quickened, and Lambert blanketed him, hips grinding him into the blankets in unapologetic demand. Aiden remembered at some point to drop a hand beneath him to touch his own cock, but the sensation was nothing compared to the overwhelming pressure of Lambert inside him; the precious burn of having a lover that was almost too much for your body to handle. Lambert knew the perfect angle, the exact spot that made Aiden keen, his own hand flailing pathetically for some kind of rhythm. It was the power of his wolf that built his orgasm, and Aiden arched with a cry as he soaked his own fingers.

The desperate grip of his body was enough for Lambert to follow after a few more unsteady, stuttering thrusts. Aiden groaned in bliss as his wolf filled him, and then again when he withdrew and the evidence of their passion dripped down his thighs. “There’s booze in the basket.” Aiden grumbled, only semi-coherent.

Still panting, cock hanging out of his trousers, Lambert swaggered on over to collect the rest of his reward. “Huh, Kaedweni stout.”

“Only the greatest extravagance for the Biggest Dick of Kaer Morhen,” Aiden sighed as he flopped over onto his back.

Lambert smirked into the neck of his bottle. Aiden was either calling him a dick, or The Dick. Rather than ask, Lambert decided he was fine with both and drank his drink smugly. Real smugly.

Thirty-One Days of Decembert

#rawrkinwrites #Decembert #Lambert #Aiden #Lambden #8. Tracks in the Snow #Smut #Hunt the Kitty

117 notes · View notes

jamaica5290068 · 3 years ago

Text

ORGANIZED CRIME BLOG 2

SOCIAL DISORGANISATION INCLUDING HIGH POVERTY AND RESIDENTIAL MOBILITY

This is the inability of community members to achieve shared value or to stop jointly experienced problems (Bursik, 1998).

When communities are disorganized it leads to Anti-social behavior and criminal activities

* This creates a breakdown in social control of these communities

* This elevates high levels of high school dropouts, unemployment, deteriorating of infrastructures, and creating single-parent families.

* Spaser local friendship networks

* Low organization participation

* Adult to lose the ability to socialize and control the youths

* It creates a breakdown in the surveillance

creat the inability to solve local problems.

We can help increase protective factors among youth by:

* Building positive relationships and patterns of interaction with mentors and pro-social peers

*Creating positive social environments through community, family, and service organizations

*Promoting social and economic policies that support positive youth development

Reference

https://www.bing.com/images/search?view=detailV2&ccid=KzfNjj72&id=D0F9195FFFE7B85ABC0B595D6C76B5038F7D654F&thid=OIP.KzfNjj72haOstqSdN6g8oAH

https://www.bing.com/images/search

26r%3D0&exph=260&expw=850&q=social+disorganization+&simid=608010289453271314&form=IRPRST&ck=3662DDC

5 notes · View notes

shahinmarkus · 5 years ago

Text

Experience The Weathered Unit

En absolutt enhet av en mann går målbevisst mot høyre i omgivelser basert på temperatur og vindstyrke fra yr’s API data.

Mannen spaserer i kamp mot vinden, atmosfæren fylles av farge, og en dynamisk låt synger om temperaturen.

Mannen oppdateres ved intervaller, men kan justeres manuelt for å oppleves akkurat slik du liker han.

Gruppe: Jakob, Hala og meg.

Tittel: The Weathered Unit Klikk her for å se HTML-presentasjonen til nettsiden vår. Klikk her for å se yr’s XML API. Klikk her for å oppleve The Weathered Unit.

Vent litt og refresh nettleseren hvis The Weathered Unit er ugrei. The Weathered Unit opppleves best med headset og stor skjerm.

#the weathered unit

3 notes · View notes

bendikaho · 5 years ago

Text

Observasjon #1

Vinterklærne, ryggsekken og uteskoene blir kastet av i en fei før de to jentene spaserer inn på barneavdelingen. De går rett forbi bokhyllene markert med fantasy, fakta og sci-fi, så forbi datamaskinene som står klare for innlogging før de sikter seg inn på kongeplassen. Der er det puter, madrasser og sakkosekker i dus belysning og store vinduer med utsikt over Schous plass. Her legger de seg til rette, snakker litt, før begge tar opp telefonen. Resten sier seg selv.

2 notes · View notes

regnskyll · 5 years ago

Text

campingplassen i Slòvigen

En plass som rommer et hundretalls midlertidige hjem. Små midlertidige hjem, eller oppholdssteder, eller feriesteder, eller hva en vil kalle det. Jeg kjenner en som kaller vogna si “hytta” mer enn noe annet, spesielt i samtaler med kolleger på kontoret.

En campingplass er et sted hvor hundrevis av familier har valgt å bo tett i tett, men bare i korte perioder. Om sommeren, i høst eller vinterferier, i helga. Det er ikke annerledes fra andre feriehus. Som andre feriehus blir campingvogna stående tom store deler av året. Det som skiller campingvogna fra ei hytte er dens plassing–som regel en campingplass. Og på campingplassen står den ikke alene, ikke adskilt fra de andre i god avstand slik ei hytte gjerne gjør, den står på plassen med de andre vognene, og sammen utgjør de en helhet.

De er oftere tomme enn de er okkuperte. Om vinteren er plassen øde. Ikke et menneske å se, ikke et tegn til liv–bortsett fra vognene, men ikke egentlig, for meningen deres har fjernet seg fra liv til fravær. Det er fraværet som definerer campingplassen.

En campingplass har en høy konsentrasjon av hus, hjem, dog ubebodde. Dens intensjon er tilstedeværelse, dens funksjon er det motsatte. Stedet blir et monument til fravær. Likevel er det et fravær som konstant minner en om tilstedeværelse: gjennom vinduet i spikerteltet skimter man en lenestol dekket av et hjemmesydd lappeteppe, en tv, en legokloss på golvet… Levd liv, tilstedeværelse fryst og oppbevart. En campingplass er et uhjemlig paradoks.

En tom campingplass avgir en helt egen uro. Tilsynelatende er den tom, mørklagt, om vinteren. Men når en spaserer mellom vognene, svarte tomme vinduer vendt mot en i skumringa, den kramme snøen knirkende under skoa idet ei snor slår imot ei flaggstang i nærheten, kan tanken komme til å streife statistikk og sannsyligheten for om det kan finnes et annet menneske her likevel, i en av de hundretalls vognene.

Et sted der det til tider finnes en stor konsentrasjon av mennesker vil alltid bære et ekko av disse menneskers nærvær. Derfor, når en vandrer langsomt blant de tilsynelatende tomme vognene, henger dette nærværet over det hele, og en kan aldri vite helt for sikkert om en er alene eller ei. Campingplassen er et hjemsøkt sted, der beboerne selv er gjengangere.

#(u)hjemmelekser #skriverier

2 notes · View notes

fuckyeahnorwegian · 7 years ago

Note

skulle ha russegruppe (duo?) med veninna, hun ditcha meg for en større gruppe så jeg har brukt en uke på å spore opp alle perifere venner uten grupper og tegna logo sjøl, gleder meg til å spasere inn i klasserommet med ny genser som et stort, ikke-verbalt "fuck you"

you go pal!! fuck alle andre!!

#russ #ask #fyn text post #Anon

41 notes · View notes

freighternity · 8 years ago

Photo

SPASER.

Photo: 2014

#freights #fr8s #fret #guterzuge #graffiti #fr8graffiti #graffitionfreights #spaser #fr8porn #Benching #panels #bacaucity #romanianfr8s #freighternity #Marfare

7 notes · View notes

wiadomosciprasowe · 12 years ago

Text

Gotlands største hotell blir en del av Scandic-kjeden

https://www.y6.no/gotlands-storste-hotell-blir-en-del-av-scandic-kjeden/

Gotlands største hotell blir en del av Scandic-kjeden

Dato: 02-05-2013 10:28 CEST Opprinnelig tittel på pressemeldingen: Gotlands største hotell blir en del av Scandic-kjeden Kategori: , Hotell Nye hoteller Scandic sverige

Scandic til Visby

Gotlands største hotell, Visby HamnHotell, blir fra 14. juni Scandics første hotell på den populære ferieøya. Hotellet bytter også navn til Scandic Visby.

Gotland har lenge vært et populært reisemål for nordmenn, og nye Scandic Visby er etter en omfattende utbygging og renovering snart klar til å ta i mot sommerens gjester med sine 214 rom. De fleste har havutsikt og uteplass, og på hotellområdet finnes det også konferanseanlegg, to restauranter, svømmebasseng, utespa og treningsstudio.

–Vi er svært glad for at vi endelig kan tilby et Scandic-hotell i vakre Visby. Vi har lenge hatt lyst til å etablere oss i byen, og nå har vi funnet det perfekte hotellet for både turister, bedriftskunder og konferansegjester. Hotellet har en flott beliggenhet i nærheten av fergeterminalen, og det tar bare noen minutter å spasere til den historiske og vakre bykjernen. Det gjør det enkelt å nyte av alt det Visby har å by på av kultur og fornøyelser, sier konsernsjef Anders Ehrling i Scandic.

Populær møteplass I mai 2013 avsluttes den omfattende bygge- og renoveringsprosessen av det populære hotellet som da kan tilby totalt 509 sengeplasser. Mange av rommene er familierom, og det er også 27 handikaprom på nye Scandic Visby.

Scandic har tidligere ikke vært representert på Gotland. Øya er en feriedrøm for mange skandinaver, og trekker til seg et stort antall turister. Dessuten er Gotland og Visby en populær møteplass for både næringslivet og politiske myndigheter. Scandic er derfor svært tilfreds med å ha inngått en franchiseavtale med GotlandResor, og den 14. juni bytter det tradisjonsrike hotellet navn og blir et Scandic-hotell.

Kjent varemerke GotlandsResor valgte Scandic som samarbeidspartner etter en grundig vurdering av de ulike hotellkjedene på markedet. Scandic ble valgt blant annet basert på selskapet sin satsing på bærekraftig hotelldrift og det sterke varemerket. Det er GotlandsResor som fortsatt eier hotellet og som tar seg av driften.

–Vi valgte Scandic fordi selskapet står for det vi er opptatt av og det vi ønsker å være. Vi er fornøyd med å bli en del av et så kjent varemerke og er overbevist om at dette kommer til å gi flere gjester både til Gotland og hotellet, sier administrerende direktør Carina Hammander i GotlandsResor.

For mer informasjon, kontakt: Margareta Thorgren, kommunikasjonsdirektør Scandic AB, +46 721 70 92 53 Carina Hammander, administrerende direktør Gotlandsresor AB, +46 705 373 815

Kilde: Pressekontor Scandic Hotels Norge – PRESSEMELDING –

————

Hashtags: # #Hotell Nye hoteller Scandic sverige Hotell Nye hoteller Scandic sverige

#Hotell Nye hoteller Scandic sverige #Scandic Hotels Norge #Pressemeldinger

0 notes