#link using the opportunity to test what a naked man feels like

[loulougoingsolo]

I watched GME again, for science, and I think Link was really taking an advantage of having the semi-nude Josh so close by during the blood play tasting segment. And Rhett looked a lil angry watching them from the monitor.

Now, this is the third time I'm attempting to post these pics to prove my point, and since the past two versions disappeared into the ether, I'm thinking Tumblr finds the pics too obscene. So, I had to add a little modesty edit. If this post finds you well, that was the case, and AI has officially declared GME too hot to handle. If not, my Tumblr is broken, and y'all never even get to see this post.

Edit. Well, fudge, it went through. What even is this world we live in?

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[watch-grok-brainrot]

MDZS Novel Translation: Lotus Pod Extra Part 1 (English Only)

So... a while back, I causally mentioned to @merelhyn that i wanted to translate something just to see how I liked it. She asked me if i had something in mind. When I told her no, she basically jumped on this and said I should translate this. Had it not be over the interwebs, she would’ve waved giant rainbow neon flags and signs to guide me towards this. So... yeah. If you like it, thank her. Also, she did a once-over for me and caught some mistakes. so thank her for that too! ^_^

I’ll also be posting the version of the document with the chinese and my commentary as a separate post... because i think that’s probably more valuable/interesting to see where my brain was and where this amateur translator is probably failing? 

[edit: the rambling commentary version should be linked in the comments]

Anyway, without further ado... 

Yunmeng Lotus Pier. 

Outside ShiJianTang (Sword Testing Hall) were the summer cicadas’ noisy calls; inside ShiJianTang was the unbearable sight of bodies strewn across the ground.

Over a dozen youths with bare chests stuck themselves onto ShiJianTang’s hardwood floor, periodically flipping themselves over, as if they were over a dozen sizzling JianBing (Fried Bread), letting out mutterings of the dying.

“Hot……”

“Dead…… ”

Wei Wuxian thought blearily to himself with barely open eyes, “If only it could be as cool here as it is in Cloud Recesses.”

The hardwood flooring under him was once again warmed by his body heat, so he flipped over. Coincidentally, Jiang Cheng also flipped over, the two brushed against each other, arm and leg making contact. Wei Wuxian immediately said, “Jiang Cheng, move your arm, you’re as hot as a coal.” 

Jiang Cheng said, “You move your leg.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Arms are lighter than legs, me moving my leg takes more effort. It’s better for you to move your arm.”

Jiang Cheng became angry: “Wei Wuxian, I’m warning you to not go overboard. Shut your mouth and don’t speak. The more you talk, the hotter it gets!”

Sixth-shidi (younger male disciple) said: “Can you two not argue? Just listening to you argue makes me hotter. I’m sweating even more now.”

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian already started fighting -- a palm strike here, a kick there: “Hurry up and piss off!” “You piss off!” “No no no, please, piss off!” “Don’t be so polite, you piss off first.”

All the younger disciples complained in unison: “Take the fight outside!” “You two can both go piss off. We’re begging you!”

Wei Wuxian said, “Did you hear that, everyone is asking you to leave. You… let go of my leg, it’s going to break, Da-ge!” 

A vein on Jiang Cheng’s forehead popped up. “Clearly they’re telling you to leave…. Let go of my arm first!”

At this time, from the wooden corridor outside came the sound of a skirt rustling over the floor. The two immediately parted like lightning. Soon, the bamboo curtains parted, Jiang Yanli stuck her head in, glanced around, and said, “Aah, so you’re all hiding here.”

Everyone said in unison: “Shijie!” “Hi Shijie!” The ones who became embarrassed easily couldn't help but cross their arms over their chests and hide into a corner. 

Jian Yanli asked: “Why are you all being lazy today and not practicing your swords?” 

Wei Wuxian complained, “Such a treacherous day, the sun shining over the practice grounds would kill us, practicing swords would make us shed a layer of skin. Shijie, don’t tell other people.” 

Jiang Yanli carefully assessed him and Jiang Cheng and asked, “Did you two get into another fight?”

Wei Wuxian said, “We didn’t!”

Jiang Yanli stepped into the room carrying a plate and asked, “Then who kicked the footprint onto A-Cheng’s chest?”

Wei Wuxian, upon hearing he left evidence, turned to look -- it was really there. But no one cared whether the two of them fought anymore for Jiang Yanli had brought a large plate of watermelon slices. The group of youths swarmed in, quickly divided the melon between them, and sat down on the floor to gnaw on the melon. Not long later, the melon rinds piled into a small hill on the plate. 

No matter what Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng did, they would end up competing. Eating watermelon was no exception. Slashing to seize the melon -- an endless volley of moves between the two made others hurry to avoid them and scramble out of the way, leaving an empty space. At first, Wei Wuxian was wholeheartedly eating watermelon, but as he ate, a chuckle suddenly burst from his lips. 

Jiang Cheng asked suspiciously: “What are you thinking about doing now?”

Wei Wuxian grabbed another piece of melon and said: “Nothing! Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t think about doing something, I just thought of a person.”

Jiang Cheng asked: “Who?”

Wei Wuxian said: “Lan Zhan”

Jiang Cheng asked: “Why are you thinking about him? Do you miss the feeling of being forced to copy lines as punishment?” 

Wei Wuxian spat out some seeds and said, “I’m thinking about how much fun he is. You have know idea, he’s so interesting. I said to him, your family’s food is not delicious at all, I would rather eat sauteed watermelon rind than eat your family’s food, you should come visit Lotus Pier when you have time…... ” 

Before the sound of Wei Wuxian’s words ended, Jiang Cheng slapped his watermelon askew: “You’re crazy inviting him to Lotus Pier, are you trying to make yourself suffer?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Why are you so anxious, my melon almost went flying! I was just saying that. Obviously he would not come. When have you ever heard of him going somewhere on his own for fun?”

Jiang Cheng spoke sternly, with a sense of righteousness, “Just so we’re clear: I will refuse his visit no matter what, don’t invite him willy nilly.” 

Wei Wuxian said, “I couldn’t tell you dislike him so!”

Jiang Cheng responded: “I don’t have an issue with Lan Wangji, but if he were to really come, my mother might have something to say about other people’s children, and then you wouldn’t have a good time.”

Wei Wuxian said, “No biggie, even if he showed up, I’m not scared. IF he really came, you can just tell Uncle Jiang to let him sleep in my room. I promise I’ll drive him insane in less than a week. ”

Jiang Cheng snorted, “You want him to stay with you for a month? I think he’ll stab you to death in less than seven days.”

Wei Wuxian retorted, “Who’s scared of him? If we really fight it’s not certain he would be an even match for me!”

Everyone cheered and hollered at Wei Wuxian’s statement. Jiang Cheng sneered at Wei Wuxian’s thick skin but in his heart, he knew Wei Wuxian’s words were true and not mere boasts. Jiang Yanli sat between and asked, “Who are you talking about? Is it a friend you made at Gusu?”

Wei Wuxian said happily, “It is!”

Jiang Cheng said, “You claim ‘friend’ so easily. You should go ask Lan Wangji, see if he is willing to claim you.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Piss off. If he doesn’t want me, I’ll just cling to him. See if he’s willing or not in the end.” Wei Wuxian then turns to Jiang Yanli, “Shijie, do you know of Lan Wangji?”

Jiang Yanli said, “I do know of him. Isn’t he the young second young master of Lan that everyone says is very handsome and very talented? Is he really so handsome?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Very handsome!”

Jiang Yanli asked, “Compared to you?”

Wei Wuxian pondered for a bit before saying, “Maybe the tiniest bit more handsome than me.”

He held up two fingers separated by the slightest amount. Jiang Yanli smiled as she gathered the plate, “Looks like he must really be handsome. Making new friends is a good thing. When you have time in the future, the two of you can visit each other for fun.”

Hearing that, Jiang Cheng spat out his melon. Wei Wuxian waved his hands defensively in front of his face, “No, no. Their home has disgusting food and too many rules. I don’t want to go there” 

Jiang Yanli said, “Then you can bring him here. This time was a good opportunity, why didn’t you invite your friend to Lotus Pier to stay with us for a while?”

Jiang Cheng said, “A-jie, don’t listen to his nonsense. At Gusu he was really detested. How could Lan Wangji be willing to come back with him?”

Wei Wuxian said, “What are you saying! He’s willing.”

Jiang Cheng said, “Wake up. Lan Wangji told you to get lost, did you not hear? Remember?”

Wei Wuxian said, “What do you know! Even though on the surface he told me to get lost, but I know, in his heart, he must have really wished to come visit Yunmeng with me. He must want it a lot.”

Jiang Cheng said, “I think about a question every day: from where do you get so much self confidence?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Don’t think about it. You’ve been asking the same question for years without an answer. If it were me, I would have given up a long time ago.”

Jiang Cheng shook his head and was about to throw his melon, when suddenly there was the sound of overbearing and fast footsteps. A chilling female voice drifted in from the distance: “I was wondering where everyone hid to, I just knew...”

The color drained from all the youths’ faces. They scrambled to leave through the curtains, coincidentally catching Madam Yu turning the corner of the corridor. Her purple clothing fluttered freely but her intimidating aura and blazing eyes were truly terrifying. When she saw the group of youths all bare armed and bare footed --  improper and unsightly -- Madam Yu’s face twitched for quite a while. Furthermore, her two elegant eyebrows rose to the point of almost flying. 

Everyone thought “This is bad!”, horrified, they ran. Seeing this, Madam Yu finally came out of her stupor. She was livid. “Jiang Cheng! Put on your clothes! You’re as naked as a wild man! What sort of shit appearance is that? If other people were to see, where would I put my face?”

Jiang Cheng’s clothing was tucked around his waist. Hearing his mother’s reprimand, he quickly covered himself. Madam Yu added angrily, “You guys! A-li is here, did you not see? A group of damn boys stripped bare in front of a girl! Who taught you to do this?!”

Of course, it was without question who was the leader. Thus Madam Yu’s next sentence was, per usual: “Wei Ying! Do you want to die?”

Wei Wuxian said loudly, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know Shijie would come! I will go look for clothing now!”

Madam Yu became even more angry. “You dare run away? Bring your ass back here and kneel!” With those words, her whip flew out. Wei Wuxian felt a searing pain on his back and screamed, almost falling and rolling on the ground. Suddenly someone said faintly by Madam Yu’s year, “A-niang, do you want to eat watermelon...”  

Madam Yu was started by Jiang Yanli appearing out of nowhere. The slight interruption allowed the group of rascals to disappear without a trace. Madam Yu angrily turned toward Jiang Yanli and pinched her cheek saying, “Eat. Eat. Eat. All you know is eat.”

Jiang Yanli was pinched so hard by her mother that tears trickled out. She mumbled, “A-niang, A-xian and the others hid here from the heat. I came here on my own looking for them. Don’t blame them. Do… Do you want to eat watermelon? I don't know who sent it to us, but it’s very sweet. Eating watermelon in the summer dispels heat and decreases your inner fire. It’s sweet and juicy. I can cut it for you...”

The more Madam Yu stewed, the angrier she became. The summer heat caused her to be thirsty which made her actually want to eat the watermelon. As such, she became even angrier. 

The group of people escaped Lotus Pier with great difficulty, charged towards the docks, and jumped onto a small boat. When, even after a bit, no one chased them, Wei Wuxian relaxed. He rowed the boat a couple times and felt his back was still hurting. Handing the oar to someone else, he sat down to touch the stinging flesh. “I’ve been wronged in broad daylight. Let’s talk about this logically. Clearly no one was clothed, but why am I the only one to get reprimanded? Why am I the only one to get hit?”

Jiang Cheng said, “It’s definitely because the way you look while not wearing clothing burns people’s eyes the most.”

Wei Wuxian glanced at him and suddenly sprang up and plunged into the water. Everyone else, seemingly responding to a signal, also entered the water. In a flash, only Jiang Cheng remained on the boat. 

Jiang Cheng noticed the suspicious situation and said, “What are you trying to pull?!”

Wei Wuxian swam up to the side of the boat and unleashed a sharp palm strike. The boat capsized: hull towards the sky and bobbing up and down in the water with vigor. Wei Wuxian laughed heartily, jumped onto the bottom of the boat, and sat down in a lotus position. He yelled towards the water on the side of the boat where Jiang Cheng fell in, “Are your eyes still burning, Jiang Cheng? Give a response! Hey! Hey!”

After yelling twice and getting no response except for a string of gurgling bubbles, Wei Wuxian wiped his face and wondered, “How come he hasn’t popped up after all this time?”

Sixth-shidi also swam over and exclaimed, “He can’t have drowned, can he?”

Wei Wuxian said, “How could he?” He was about to jump into the water to drag Jiang Cheng out when he suddenly heard a loud cry from behind. Wei Wuxian yelped as he was shoved into the water. The boat, dripping wet, was flipped right side up. Turns out, after Wei Wuxian flipped Jiang Cheng into the water, Jiang Cheng swam underwater around the boat and ended up behind Wei Wuxian.

After the two of them each successfully landed a sneak attack, they started cautiously circling the boat. The others splashed and treaded water as they spread out over the lake to watch. Wei Wuxian hollered from the other side of the boat, “Why are you holding a weapon? If you’re skilled, put the oar down and we can fight hand-to-hand.”

Jiang Cheng smirked, “Do you take me for an idiot? As soon as I put it down, you’ll take it!” He wielded the oar with unrelenting ferocity, forcing Wei Wuxian back. All the younger disciples cheered. Wei Wuxian found himself helpless as he dodged left and right. In his frenzy, he made time to plead his innocence, “I am not that shameless!”

From all sides came the hissing response, “Da-shixiong, do you really have enough face to say such a thing?”

Afterwards, everyone became involved in a chaotic water fight. Vicious attacks were used without hesitation. Finally, Wei Wuxian kicked Jiang Cheng and with great effort flopped onto the boat. He spat out a mouthful of lake water, raised his hands and said, “No more fighting. No more fighting! Truce! ”

Everyone’s heads were covered in bright green water weeds. They were fighting to their heart’s content! Thus, they retorted, “Why should we stop? Fight! Fight! Are you begging for mercy because you’re losing?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Who said I’m begging for mercy? We can have another fight later. I’m hungry and don’t have energy for fighting anymore. Let’s get something to eat first.”

Sixth-shidi said, “Are we going back then? We can have a few watermelons before dinner starts.”

Jiang Cheng said, “If we go back now, the only thing we’ll get to have is a whipping.”

Wei Wuxian was ready with a plan. He announced, “We’re not going back! We’re going to go pick lotus pods!”

Jiang Cheng said mockinly, “You meant ‘steal’, right?”

Wei Wuxian said, “It’s not like they don’t get paid later.”

Yunmeng Jiang Sect often watched over the local people, removing water ghouls without asking for anything in return. Within a radius of several tens of lis, the people were happy to let them pick a few lotus pods. In fact, the people would be perfectly happy to designate a section of the lake to grow lotus just for them. Everytime the youths were out and ate people’s melons, caught people’s chickens, drugged people’s dogs, Jiang Fengmian would send someone later to pay the people. As to why they were determined to steal, it wasn’t because they were scoundrels but because they craved the fun experience of someone chasing them and hitting them while laughing and yelling. 

Everyone got on the boat, rowed for a while, and ended up by a stretch of lake full of lotus. 

What a large stretch of lotus filled lake -- green and fresh! The verdant foliage layered and stacked on top of eachother, some as small as plates and others as large as umbrellas. The ones on the outskirts sat lower in the water and were more sparse, carpeting on the surface of the water. The ones on the inside stood taller and packed tightly together, sufficient to hide a boat carrying people. If one were to see a cluster of lily pads rustling and shaking, then they would know someone was mischievously hiding within.

The small boat from Lotus Pier glided into that verdant world. All around them hung large green lotus pods, round and full. One person rowed the boat and the rest started on the lotus pods. The large lotus heads grew on long, thin stems. The smooth lotus stems were covered with tiny thorns that did not sting. Bending the stems, they snapped with a crisp sound. The boys all broke off the pods with a large segment of stems attached. Once they took the pods home, they would find a vase and stick the pods in water. They heard it would preserve the pods’ freshness for a few more days. Wei Wuxian only heard it would work but didn’t know for sure, but he told the others with confidence anyway.

He broke off a few stems and reflexively removed the lotus seeds out of one. The seeds were full and round. When he popped them in his mouth, they were tender and juicy. As he ate, he started mindlessly humming and singing, “I treat you to eat lotus pods, what will you treat me to eat?” Jiang Cheng heard his singing and asked, “Who are you treating to eat things?” 

Wei Wuxian said, “Haha, no matter what it’s not you!” He was about to smack Jiang Cheng’s face with the lotus pod but suddenly made a shushing noise and said, “We’re gonna die. The old man is here today!”

The old man was the old farmer who grew lotus pods in that stretch of water. How old was he, Wei Wuxian didn’t know. From Wei Wuxian’s perspective, Jiang Fengmian was an uncle. Anyone older than Jiang Fengmian could be referred to as an old man. Since Wei Wuxian could remember, he was around this stretch of lotus pond. In the summer, when Wei Wuxian came to steal lotus pods, if he was caught, he would be beaten. Wei Wuxian often suspected the old man was a reincarnated lotus pod spirit because he knew exactly how many lotus pods were missing from his family’s lake. He would beat you once for each missing lotus pod. A bamboo pole was the best tool for maneuvering a boat in a lotus lake. Thump thump thump! The bamboo pole was also exceptionally painful for the people getting hit.

All the youths have experienced a few strikes of the bamboo pole. They all hissed at each other: “Run! Hurry and run!” They grabbed the oars and fled. After they frantically rowed out of the lotus pond, they turned around to look guiltily behind them. The old man’s boat had already exited the thick layers of lily pads and was gliding upon the open waters. Wei Wuxian tilted his head, stared for a bit, and suddenly said, “Weird!”

Jiang Cheng also stood up and said. “Why is that boat moving so quickly?”

Everyone looked over at the old man. His back was turned towards them and was counting the lotus pods on his boat. The bamboo pole was set aside, untouched. The boat, however, moved steadily and swiftly, even faster than the boat with Wei Wuxian and company. 

Everyone became cautious. Wei Wuxian urged, “Row over there, row over there.”

The two boats moved close and everyone could clearly see a faint white shadow floating and swimming under the water by the old man’s boat. 

Wei Wuxian turned around, his finger against his lip, warning everyone to be careful -- do not startle the old man and the water ghoul under his boat. Jiang Cheng nodded and rowed the boat. The ripples he generated were nearly silent with almost no commotion. When the two boats were about three zhang apart, a wet and dripping pale green hand reached up from beneath the boat. Surreptitiously, the hand took a lotus pod from the old man’s full boat and silently resubmerged itself into the water.

A few moments later, two lotus seed shells floated to the surface of the water.

The group of youths was astounded. “Wow! This water ghoul also steals lotus pods!”

The old man finally noticed someone was behind him. He held a large lotus pod and one hand and turned around while grabbing the bamboo pole with the other. The motion started the water ghoul which slithered away. The white shadow disappeared. Everyone quickly hollered, “Where are you going?”

Wei Wuxian plopped into the water and dropped into the depths. Soon, he resurfaced dragging something. “Caught it!”

In his hand, there was a small water ghoul with pale green skin. It looked like a twelve or thirteen year old child. Terrified, it shrank into a ball under the group’s watchful eyes.

At this time, the old man’s bamboo pole descended as he scolded, “Here again to cause trouble!”

Wei Wuxian had just gotten whipped and was now getting hit by a bamboo pole. “Ow!” he yelped, almost losing his grip. Jiang Cheng angrily said, “Speak reasonably. Why are you hitting people? Misunderstanding our good intentions!”

Wei Wuxian quickly said, “No big deal. Old… old uncle, take a closer look. We are not ghouls. This is the ghoul.”

The old man said, “No shit! I’m just old, not blind. Let him go!”

Wei Wuxian startled. He watched the little water ghoul in his hand bowing with its hands clasped in front of its body. Its black eyes wet with tears, looking rather pathetic. In its hands the water ghoul still clung onto the large lotus pod it just stole. The lotus pod was broken open but the water ghoul clearly did not have time to eat many lotus seeds before Wei Wuxian dragged him to the surface.

Jiang Cheng thought to himself that the old man was impossible to reason with. He said to Wei Wuxian, “Don’t let it go. We should take the water ghoul home.”

Hearing those words, the old man raised the bamboo pole again. Wei Wuxian hurriedly said, “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me! I’ll let it go!”

Jiang Cheng said, “Don’t let go. What would we do if the water ghoul kills people?”

Wei Wuxian said, “This water ghoul doesn’t smell like blood. He’s young and cannot leave this section of the lake. Recently there has been no word that people have died in this area. It doesn’t seem like he’s harmed anyone before.”

Jiang Cheng said, “Even if he hasn’t harmed anyone before, you can’t guarantee that in the future....”

Before his words finished, the bamboo pole landed with a whoosh. Jiang Cheng, getting hit, angrily said, “Old man, do you not have a sense of good and evil?! You know it’s a ghoul and you’re not scared of it doing harm?!”

The old man responded with self assurance, “I already have one foot in my own coffin. Why would I be scared of a ghoul?”

Wei Wuxian figured it would not be able to run far, so he said, “Stop fighting, stop fighting. I’m letting go.”

He really let go. The water ghoul slithered behind the old man’s boat, too timid to come out again. 

Wei Wuxian climbed back onto the boat soaking wet. The old man picked a lotus pod from his boat and threw it into the water. The water ghoul ignored it. The old man then picked a large lotus pod and threw it into the water. The lotus pod bobbed on the surface a few times. Suddenly, half a white head popped out of the water and dragged the two lotus pods down with its mouth like a large white fish. After a while longer, something white floated to the surface again. The water ghoul curled up behind the boat with its arms and hands above water and ate with noisy gusto. 

Everyone watched, bewildered, as it ate with enthusiasm.

Watching the old man throw another lotus pod into the water, Wei Wuxian rubbed his chin, feeling a little upset. He asked, “Old uncle, why do you let it steal your lotus pods? You even gift them to it. But when we steal your lotus pods, you hit us.”

The old man responded, “It helps push my boat. Giving it a few lotus pods is nothing. You rascals? How many did you steal today?”

Everyone became embarrassed. Wei Wuxian glanced at the inside of their boat -- there were at least a few dozen. He knew the situation was going to take a turn for the worse and said, “Go!”

A few people immediately picked up the oars as the old man charged forward waving his bamboo pole. His boat moved like the wind. The top of the youths’ heads felt a numbness and the foreboding sense of the bamboo pole making impact. They engaged all their limbs and rowed like crazy. The two boats circled the large lotus pond a couple of times, the old man’s boat closing in on the other boat. Wei Wuxian had already been hit a few times and he noticed the bamboo pole was only aimed at him. He hugged his head and yelled, “Too unfair! Why am I the only one getting hit? Why am I the only one getting hit!”

All the younger disciples said, “Hang in there Shixiong! We’re counting on you!”

Jiang Cheng also said, “Yes, you just hang in there.”

Wei Wuxian said angrily, “That’s it. I can’t hang in there anymore.” He grabbed a lotus pod from the boat and tossed it out, “Catch!”

It was a very large lotus pod -- it hit the water with a thud and a large splash. The old man’s boat paused as expected. The water ghoul happily swam over, scooped up the lotus pod, and began eating

Seizing the opportunity, the Lotus Pier boat escaped. 

On the way way back, a younger disciple asked, “Da-shixiong, can ghouls taste flavor?”

Wei Wuxian said, “Usually not. But I think this little ghoul is proba… probab… probably.. Ah… achoo!”

The sun had set and the wind picked up, bringing a sense of coolness and chill. Wei Wuxian sneezed, rubbed his face, and continued, “Probably it wanted to eat lotus pods in its past life but could not. When it snuck there to pick some, it fell into the water and drowned. So… ah… ah…”

Jiang Cheng said, “So, eating lotus pods realized its desires, giving it a sense of fulfillment.”

Wei Wuxian agreed, “Uh, right.”

He touched his back that was covered in crisscrossing old and new injuries and couldn’t help but voice his thoughts, “But this is such a strange injustice for the ages. Why is it that whenever something happens, I’m always the only one who gets hit?”

One younger disciple said, “You are the most handsome.”

Another said, “You have the highest cultivation.”

Yet another added, “You look the best naked.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Wei Wuxian said, “Thank you everyone for the praise. Hearing them gives me goosebumps.”

A younger disciple said, “You’re welcome Da-shixiong. Since you’re the one who blocks hits for us each and every time, you deserve more.”

Wei Wuxian said, shocked, “Oh? There’s more. Let’s hear it.” 

Jiang Cheng could not bear hearing more. He said, “Everyone shut up. If you don’t say reasonable things, I just might smash through the bottom of the boat so we all die a clean death.”

At this time, they crossed a section of water with farmland on both sides. In the rice paddies, a few small framed farm girls were plowing. When they saw the boys’ small boat pass by, they ran to the water and waved, “Hey -----!”

Everyone responded with a “Hey” and then jabbed Wei Wuxian, “Shixiong, they’re calling you! They’re calling you!”

Wei Wuxian looked over. Indeed they were people he had led the boys in acquainting. His mood immediately brightened. He stood up, waved, and asked, laughing, “What’s up?”

The small boat moved with the water current and the farm girls followed on land. They walked and talked, “Did you guys go steal lotus pods again?”

“Quick! Tell us how many times you were hit!”

“Or did you go drug other people’s dog?”

Jiang Cheng listened for a few sentences and wanted to kick Wei Wuxian off the boat. He said with bitterness, “Your foul reputation has spread so widely. You’ve really lost face for our family.”

Wei Wuxian defended himself, explaining, “They said ‘you guys’. We’re all in this together, ok? If we lose face, we lose face together.”

While the two were fighting, the first farmgirl yelled, “Was it yummy?”

Wei Wuxian paused in the middle of fighting, “What?”

The farm girl said, “The watermelons we sent over. Were they good?”

Wei Wuxian suddenly understood, “The watermelons were from you guys! They were delicious! Why didn’t you come in and visit for a bit? We could have offered you tea!”

The farm girl smiled sweetly.  “When we brought it over, you guys weren’t there. We set them down and left. We dared not stay. Glad they were good!”

Wei Wuxian said, “Thank you!” He then scooped up a few large lotus pods and said, “Have some lotus pods on us! Next time, come in and watch me practice swords!”

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Is your practicing swords attractive?”

Wei Wuxian threw the lotus pods towards land. Despite flying a long distance, the lotus pods were light and easy to catch. He grabbed a few more lotus pods and shoved them at Jiang Cheng’s chest, “Why are you doing in a daze? Hurry up!”

Jiang Cheng took the lotus pods against his will after getting them shoved at him. “Hurry up and do what?”

Wei Wuxian said, “You also ate the watermelon. You need to return a gift. Come on, don’t be embarrassed. Everyone, throw! Throw!”

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Funny. What is there to be embarrassed about?” His words were such, but even though all the younger disciples on the boat were gleefully throwing lotus pods, he still had not thrown any. Wei Wuxian said again, “Then throw! If we throw this time, next time we can ask them if the lotus pods were delicious. It’ll be another opportunity for conversation!”

All the younger disciples felt enlightened. “So that’s how it is. We are learning! Shixiong is truly experienced!”

“Clearly you do this a lot!”

“You flatter me, hahahaha….”

Jiang Cheng was originally going to throw the lotus pod, but acquired clarity upon hearing the conversation. He felt the action was severely embarrassing and broke open a lotus pod for himself to eat instead.

The boat moved in the water. The girls scurried along on land, catching the jade green lotus pods tossed over by the youths on the boat, running and laughing all the way. Wei Wuxian’s right hand rested between his brows, watching the scenery pass by. As he smiled, he let out a sigh. Everyone asked, “Da-shixing, what’s wrong?” “Girls are chasing us but you sigh?”

Wei Wuxian lifted an oar onto his shoulders and smirked, “Nothing much. I’m just thinking about how I sincerely invited Lan Zhan to Yunmeng for a visit, but he actually refused me.”

All the younger disciples gave a thumbs up, “Wow. Lan Wangji really deserves his reputation!”

Wei Wuxian declared with vigor, “Shut up! One day I will drag him here. And then I will kick him off the boat, deceive him into stealing lotus pods, get the old man to hit him with the bamboo pole, and make him chase after me as I run off, hahahaha...”

After laughing for a while, he turned his head and looked at the Jiang Cheng who was sitting at the end of the boat grumpily eating lotus pods alone. Wei Wuxian’s smile gradually faded. He sighed and said, “Alas, the child cannot be taught.”

Jiang Cheng was angered. “So what if I want to eat it myself.”

Wei Wuxian said, “Oh, you, Jiang Cheng. Whatever, you’re hopeless. You can just eat them yourself for the rest of your life.”

In short, the small boat that went to steal lotus pods once again returned after a successful journey.

[rhinkthreeways]

“Forget it.” (Extended Smutty Version)

Congratulations again to @enterthetadpole for winning the 200 follower giveaway! She requested that Laika expand the “Forget it.” smutty ficlet:

Three words: Sultry AF. Broody and sensual and yeah cold shower was needed. Laika needs to stop doing these before my phone has permanent scorch marks. Just give us more because we are thirsty.

Rhett had grown comfortable with his own nudity. And with sharing that nudity with Link. He wouldn’t have believed it possible, even a year ago, but he has now found that he’s more than comfortable with the way that Link’s hungry gaze devours his naked body. His depthless blue eyes roaming over Rhett’s skin as if there were anything there left for him to undress with them.

Rhett knelt at the bedside of Link’s twin bed in the creative house, resting his head against Link’s thigh. He rubbed his unkempt beard over the rough denim of Link’s jeans, sighing happily when Link raised his hand only to bring it down to lovingly pet Rhett’s hair with soft, slow, even strokes.

Rhett was a big man, everybody knew that, but Link’s hand still felt quite large to him. Large, controlling, and safe. Rhett felt at home under those strong hands. And in love with what they were capable of.

They had been sitting this way for about a half hour. They were quite capable of staying like that comfortably for over a full hour. Rhett savored the time that he was able to spend at Link’s feet, feeling secure in his nakedness, allowing himself to be vulnerable with Link. He didn’t let himself exist in this way in front of anyone else. And Link… Well, Rhett imagined that there must be something about the way that he gave himself over to Link in this way that gave him a sense of control that Link did not always feel in his day-to-day life. Where things never played out to his exact specifications; and he found himself fighting an exhausting internal battle over whether he should annoy people with his desire to micromanage toward perfection, or to give the people in his life some peace and let his compulsion to reform and optimize every last detail of every blessed thing eat him alive. A life where anxiety pried at the edges of every interaction. Was the intent good enough? Was the outcome good enough? Was he good enough?

But Link didn’t have to worry when they were like this. Like this, the world was however Link wanted it to be. Down to the last detail. And it was Rhett’s absolute pleasure to make it that way for him.

Rhett began to subtly squirm in his keeling posture.

Link instinctively tightened his hold on Rhett’s long, wavy hair. He tilted his head back to meet ice blue eyes. Link had always been able to read Rhett better than Rhett knew himself.

“What do you need?” Link lowered shaky, yet confident, fingers to stroke the skin beneath Rhett’s bearded neck. As often as they played at this type of power exchange, Link always kept his voice low. The unstated fact that he didn’t have to raise his voice to demonstrate his hold over Rhett was enough to make Rhett hard and aching in his lap.

Rhett cleared his throat. He trusted Link. Implicitly. But he was still working on asking for what he wanted. It didn’t come easy to him. It would have been so much easier if Link would just give Rhett what he wanted, without making him admit that he had had needs in the first place. Having to confess aloud that he was not this magically perfect and whole creature, wanting nothing from nobody... It left him feeling infinitely more laid bare than his nakedness ever could.

He supposed that was the point.

Rhett nodded in response to Link’s question. He felt a distinct thrill at having the full intensity of Link’s attention focused squarely on him. It made him giddy with desire. He knew that Link would be able to see the light sheen of sweat budding on the surface of his face; and how full, flushed, and leaking his cock had become. But could he see through to how close Rhett was to humping his clothed leg, and begging shamelessly to be spanked?

“Rhett?”

“I…”

Link tilted his head curiously, waiting patiently for Rhett to find his words.

“Nevermind.”

“Oh,” Link responded evenly. “I absolutely mind.”

“Just… Forget it.”

“Hm. You really think that I’m gonna forget the sight of you naked on your knees, fumbling for how to tell me what you would like for me to do to you?”

Rhett decided that it might be easier to just show Link what he wanted. He crawled away from Link’s feet, moving to prop himself up on the edge of the bed, leaning down against his elbows and allowing his spine to lengthen and decompress. He lifted his tailbone and boldly wiggled his exposed cheeks. He buried his blushing face into the sheets, and awaited Link’s reaction to his wordless, albeit vague, offer.

Rhett felt the bed shift beneath his upper body as Link rose to his feet, leaving Rhett softly whimpering before he felt a reassuringly gentle touch on his freckled shoulder.

“Goodness, Rhett. Quite the gift you’re presenting me with. What am I s’posed to do with it?”

Rhett growled into the mattress as he silently weighed his options. He knew how this worked. While Link had the final option to say yes or no, understanding that he did have that ultimate power tended to make Link very generous with what he would ‘allow’. In other words, Rhett had found that he could pretty much ask Link to do anything and Link would do it. That being said, there was still the mental hurdle of asking.

Rhett took a deep, steadying breath before actively shaping his lips in the form of a question.

“Would you spank me? Please.”

Rhett couldn’t see Link’s face in this posture, but he would have bet anything that Link would be smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you, Rhett,” Link said in a tone that managed to be rough and smooth at the same time. “The fact that you can share what you want with me makes me… very happy. Almost as happy as punishing this beautiful, perfect skin is gonna.”

Rhett’s breathing immediately began to stagger as he felt Link’s hands cup his ass and begin to caress the flesh. Kneeling the muscle, and subtly spreading him; making gentle sounds of adoration as he did.

Rhett wiggled happily, and pushed his hips back toward Link. Desperate for him to proceed.

“Yesss, please.” He practically begged as a fine tremor of anticipation worked itself through his body. The traveling chill left raises hairs in its wake. Rhett curled his toes, pressing them into the floor as Link hovered over him.

“You gonna stay still for me?”

Rhett nodded once. The quick gesture made his long hair bounce, and he shivered for a fraction of a second, his body was electric with expectation of the heat that had been promised.

Link’s hands were warm against Rhett’s skin, as he resumed his reverent stroking of Rhett’s supple skin, teasing it with light touches.

“This isn’t exactly a punishment, y'know. But I would love to make you feel it for days afterward...”

“Yes,” Rhett quickly clarified, he hoped that Link would hurry up and touch him in the way that Rhett yearned for him. “You know I’ll tell ya if it’s too much, just—”

Link chuckled quietly, and somehow dangerously, at Rhett’s impatience. “Careful, Rhett. You wanna start trying to order me around, and this can become a punishment real quick. And not in the way you’re likely hoping. In other words, I won’t whoop you at all.”

Rhett cringed. Link didn’t make idle threats. He did not like Rhett testing his dominance within this setting. He would proverbially turn this car around and go home rather than suffer the effort of brat-taming.

Rhett could feel his cock leaking as his hips began to shift toward Link again. His cock a friction that it would not find. He bit his lip and summoned every ounce of self-control to stay patient as he waited for the sharp stinging kiss of Link’s hand on his skin.

Link did not keep him waiting.

He brought his hand down with a sharp smack, and Rhett couldn’t help yelling at the hot pain on his backside, while pressing backward for another blow.

Link indulged him with a flurry of slaps.

The sound of Link’s strikes rang around the sparsely decorated room, combined with Rhett's grunts and moans. Rhett shivered at the contrast of the heat on his ass with the cool air of the room, a bloom of pain tingled across his skin.

He felt feverish, needy, ready to be fucked; but all he could do was squirm and futilely thrust his hips against the frictionless air before him. His weighty cock bobbing sadly.

“You can touch yourself,” Link mercifully informed him.

Rhett hadn’t consciously realized that he had been waiting for Link’s permission. The thought of acting without Link’s blessing hadn’t even entered his mind as a possibility. But now that the wish had been planted and granted in the same breath, Rhett silently thanked god as he seized the opportunity - and his dick in hand.

Link delivered a particularly harsh wallop that sent Rhett lurching forward into the mattress. The delicate contact of his sensitive skin against the rough cotton sheets was enough to send Rhett over the edge. Or at least blessedly close. He rubbed his neglected and and desperate cock against the side of the mattress, allowing the friction to coax his orgasm from him. His climax was accompanied by an embarrassingly high pitched mewl of a whine before his body went limp.

He felt an odd combination of being both refreshed and abandoned. Like a man consumed by heat, elated to find himself flung overboard into the cool and revitalizing sea; only to realize that he was lost, stranded and alone.

His life line, his buoy, came to him in the form of Link’s hands. They soothed his abused skin, skin that would be warm to the touch and bright red. The touch anchored him and kept Rhett from drifting off.

Link’s whisper almost came out as a growl. But there was a glimmer of humor lining his words that made Rhett smile, even as he was being made aware that their game was ending for the night.

“You fuck up my sheets, McLaughlin?”

Rhett’s shoulders shook with laughter made silent as it was swallowed up by the bedding that he was still burying his upper body into. “Uh, yeah? Seems so.”

He pushed himself up off the bed, turning to look at Link for the first time in what felt like forever. His eyes looked electric and alive. He never looked so beautiful as when he was satisfied. And he just didn’t look satisfied nearly as often as he should, by Rhett’s estimation.

“Good boy.” Link’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s get you, and my freakin’ sheets, all cleaned up.”

Rhett let Link help him to his feet. After his orgasm had subsided, he found himself feeling a little more aware of his nakedness. Especially in contrast with Link’s clothed state. It didn’t feel quite as sexy as it had even moments ago.

Brains could be fucked up things.

Link acted, yet again, like Rhett’s own personal mind reader as he handed Rhett a robe. Rhett cloaked his insecurities, his vulnerabilities, in fluffy soft charcoal colored cotton. It fit his body perfectly, but it smelled like Link. Rhett fleetingly wondered how Link had accomplished that: simply washing it with his own clothes? A more elaborate scheme involving him sleeping in it? All Rhett knew was that it was very comforting, no matter how the feat had been managed.

Link guided him to the bathroom, and began to draw him a bath. There was an ice bucket with a few offerings sticking out over the rim. Rhett could make out a bottle of champagne, and a couple of cans of LaCroix. Link had dimmed the lights, and lit a few candles to set the ambiance.

It seemed like a little much to Rhett. And now that they were no longer ‘playing’, he was tempted to make a joke about it. But he immediately second guessed that impulse. Why did he feel the need to say something silly to break the spell that Link had clearly gone to so much effort to cast for him?

Rhett easily appreciated the gesture, perhaps he just wasn’t so sure that he deserved it. However, he decided to keep his mouth shut, and give Link the opportunity to show him otherwise.

Link added bubbles to the hot water and allowed the bath to fill. He stood behind Rhett and placed his hands over Rhett’s covered shoulders, gripping the cottony seams.

“May I?”

Link slid the robe slowly down Rhett’s shoulders, and Rhett was certain that at his height, he had no right to be made to feel so delicate and cherished.

Rhett offered a loose affirmative somewhere between a shrug and a nod. It seemed that the ask was low-risk enough that Link accepted that as a Yes, without making him consent more clearly that it was okay for Link to literally disrobe him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Doesn’t sting much,” Rhett answered honestly.

“I got aloe here, some types of lotion? Ice might feel good..”

“Ha, well. I appreciate that and all. But it’s not like it was a cane, or... a flogger or anything.”

Link paused, noticeably. “Do you wish it was more like that?”

Rhett had to think about that.

“You can get back to me on that,” Link said with a wink and sly smile, before easing Rhett into the bath.

Rhett sighed at how good the heat felt on his skin. It radiated to soothe his muscles, and relax his mind.

“Good?”

Rhett nodded.

“Good.”

Link cupped a handful of bath water, and allowed it to slip slowly through his hand to trickle onto Rhett’s skin. His blue eyes watched in awe as the water landed, beaded, and slid down Rhett’s body.

Rhett longed for Link to be as slick as the water droplets, sliding down his body… He could hardly believe that he was already getting all worked up again...

“I’m going to rinse your hair.” Link was telling, not asking. But Rhett understood that he still would want an answer.

Upon Rhett’s subtle nod, Link palmed one open hand over the top of Rhett’s head, and slowly submerged him completely beneath the water. When Rhett resurfaced, it was almost in slow motion. Water danced and dropped down his beard, catching in places and sparkling in the candlelight like stars peeking out to twinkle in the early evening sunset.

It seemed Link could not resist bringing his fingers to Rhett’s wet lips, and sliding a couple digits past them. He sensually fingered Rhett’s mouth, and Rhett happily lapped and sucked at the welcome intrusion. Rhett thought he felt Link shudder as he somewhat reluctantly withdrew.

Link took a washcloth and brought it up to rinse and massage his upper back and shoulders, places that the water wouldn’t reach once Rhett was sitting fully upright.

Rhett closed his eyes to focus on touch alone.

Link eventually abandoned the cloth, and moved to massage him with the wetted heels of his palms and his fingertips.

Rhett sighed, and even moaned a few times he felt so loose and at ease. He leaned forward to allow Link to work the muscles in his lower back and hips.

Link then repositioned himself toward Rhett’s front, leaning over the edge of the tub to touch Rhett’s knees - which were poking out well above the waterline, compressed as Rhett was in the tub. Link’s hand worked down from the cap of Rhett’s bent knee, down his thigh to sink beneath the water and rest to wrap loosely around his cock.

Rhett whimpered gently despite himself, once again at Link’s mercy.

“You hard again, Rhett?”

A silly question really, coming from a man who was now stroking his erection.

“Uh. Yeah, looks like it.”

“Then maybe you could do something for me now?”

Anything, Rhett thought.

“Okay?” Rhett said.

“Wait for me on the bed, honey. And I’ll be out when I’m ready.”

Link helped to lift Rhett out of the tub, making sure that he was adequately dried off and not at risk for slipping on his way into the bedroom. Rhett flinched when the soft cottony towel brushed over his oversensitized cock, as Link closed the robe around Rhett’s front.

Rhett tried not to feel awkward as he walked on wobbly knees with his erection bouncing beneath his modest covering. It was helpful to know that Link wasn’t watching. He was behind the closed door, ‘getting ready’ for whatever he had in mind next.

Rhett walked over to the bed, and let his robe fall to the floor. He crawled up into the center of the California king bed and lay down onto his belly. His erection pressed into the soft cushiony fabric of the comforter. It felt nice to find a bit of relief in the pillowy contact. He folded his arms and rested his head face-first into them, unable to resist subtly rutting his hips into the mattress. Barely perceptible, just enough friction to keep him from aching as the minutes passed.

In addition to his own nudity, patience was something else that Link had helped him to grow comfortable with.

Normally, waiting drove Rhett crazy. He was always uneasy. Whether he was in a waiting room for an appointment, navigating an airport terminal for a flight, or even between shooting episodes of GMM. He would always grow antsy trying to figure out exactly what he should be doing with himself in order to optimize the outcome of whatever came next.

But it wasn’t like that when he was with Link.

Rhett knew that when he was with Link, he didn’t need to worry about what happened next. Link was driving, and Rhett didn’t have to think about a thing. He was safe to let his mind go completely blank, and drift away to comfortable and secure places that he never seemed to be able to find under any other circumstances.

Rhett had no idea how much time had passed before he heard the sound of a door opening, and imagined that Link must be walking through it to join him on the bed. This suspicion all but confirmed once he felt the mattress give slightly under the new additional weight of Link sitting down next to him.

Wordlessly, Link encouraged him to turn over onto his back, and Rhett’s jaw fell open as Link’s hand gently massaged his cock.

Rhett moaned at the smooth and controlled movements. The sensation was near breathtaking as Link gradually tightened his grip, making Rhett clutch at the bedding and his eyes rolled up into his head.

“You feel good in my hand, Rhett. But that’s not where I wanna be feelin’ you.”

Rhett nodded. He had hoped that this was what Link had in mind, and he was starting to get restless - wanting Link on his dick as soon as possible.

“Tell me that you want me.”

“Always want you,” Rhett said, honestly.

“That’s sweet, honey. But I need you to tell me how you want me. Not in general. Right now.”

Rhett swallowed the thick lump of need in his throat. “Want you to hold me down, and ride my cock.”

Rhett could’ve sworn he saw Link’s breath hitched; but aside from that small tell, Link maintained his cool exterior.

“That sounds nice, Rhett. But holding you down is gonna be tough, you’re such a big man, aren’t ya?”

Rhett blushed and felt his cock grow impossibly more hard.

“But I’m gonna do my best,” Link said, a quick wink accompanying his grin as he positioned his palms over Rhett’s large shoulders, and propped himself up.

One of Link’s legs glided across Rhett’s broad body to straddle him, and it felt like satin brushing over his midsection.

“You shaved,” Rhett commented.

Link’s eyes lit up at Rhett’s attention. “You noticed.”

“Feels nice on my skin.”

“I did some other stuff that might feel good on ya, too.”

To accentuate his meaning, he reached down to guide Rhett’s cock to his entrance. Rhett watched as Link’s face went slack and his eyes fluttered. Plump lips slightly parted as he slowly sank down onto Rhett’s engorged cock.

Link whimpered as he took his time adjusting to the not unfamiliar feel. He sighed when he felt he’d taken it all.

“God you’re thick, honey. Feel the way you stretch me and open me up for you. Unreal.”

“Feels pretty real to me,” Rhett muttered as he nodded, and brought his hand to Link’s hips. “You want me to...?”

“No. I don’t want you to do a thing. Your hands are fine there. But I wanna fuck myself on your big dick, and I don’t want you to do a damn thing ‘cept tell me how good I look as I do. Until I’m done. When I’m done, and no sooner’n that, I want you to shoot me full of come.”

Rhett had to grit his teeth and use every mental tool in his arsenal to keep from coming right then.

Fuck, this man was sex incarnate.

Rhett held tightly to Link’s hips as he began to move. He was already so soft and slippery from the time he’d taken before coming into the bedroom, and Rhett was grateful. There was nothing like the feel of Link’s tight heat squeezing and massaging his cock.

Link started out slowly, like he was getting used to the feel; but Rhett reckoned he was just enjoying himself. He elongated his truck as he stretched and writhed on top of Rhett. His body so long and lean, now beginning to shimmer with a thin sheen of sweat. His cock was hard, his nipples erect. He looked like he was carved from stone, and Rhett didn’t think he’d ever get over how gorgeous he was like this.

“Fuck, Link… You look incredible. You feel even better.”

Rhett didn’t feel that he had found exactly the right things to say, but he knew Link would want him to say something.

Link picked up his pace a little at Rhett’s praise. He began to twist a bit as he rode, making sure he hit just right. Every once in a while causing himself to tremble. He shifted his weight further back into his hips and lifted his hands from Rhett’s shoulders and onto his own body.

One hand wrapped around his cock, not stroking. Merely holding and squeezing. His other hand ran up over the front of the body, from the soft trail of dark hair up to his navel, up his stomach and over his chest. He fingered at his nipples, teasing and pinching himself to his own delight. Rhett could feel Link’s body responding to his own touches as he clenched and quivered around Rhett’s cock.

For Rhett’s part, he tried to keep his hips as still as an inanimate toy. But he hoped that Link wouldn’t object to his hands roaming a bit. He could not resist gliding his fingertips over the silky smooth skin of Link’s toned legs. Feeling the flex of the muscles in his thighs as he fucked himself on Rhett’s cock.

“God, you’re sexy,” Rhett told him. “You look so pretty. I wanna see you come. Wanna watch your pretty body fall apart. Feel you shiver and shake on top of me. Wanna fill this tight little ass with my come. You’re so fucking hot, I don’t know how long I can last with you looking this good, Link. Are you close?”

“Such a good boy, Rhett. Tellin’ me all the nice things I wanna hear about m’self.” Link began to move faster. With intent. He shimmied his hips and began to pump his cock in his fist. “I’ll come for you, honey. I’ll make a big ol’ mess for ya… all over your body. Nnnngh, you’re so good to me, letting me use you like this…”

Rhett’s dick ached for release, his thighs felt numb. All sensation pooled and isolated his groin, pressure building as he watched Link contort. Link threw back his head as a satisfied groan - that was music to Rhett’s ears - ripped out of his chest as Rhett felt his stomach sprinkled with Link’s warm come.

Rhett's next words came out as a desperate plea, “Can I come?!”

“Fill me, daddy!” Link moaned.

Link squeezed himself around Rhett’s girth and Rhett gratefully emptied his load inside of him, going completely lightheaded and giddy. Sighing and giggling in his post-orgasmic high.

Link gingerly lifted himself off of Rhett and collapsed into the mattress next to him. Eyes shut, and lips naturally curled into a soft smile.

“What do you wanna do now?” Rhett whispered into Link’s sweaty mess of hair.

“Whatever we want.”

Rhett smiled and kissed the top of his head. “I do love how we keep uncovering additional layers of that.”

“Hm?”

“‘Whatever we want.’ We found a way to express ourselves creatively by doing whatever we want. Made a career and built a business around doing whatever we want. Decided to finally love by doing whatever we want. Now we’ve even turned it into some kinda… therapy or something. It’s just… unreal.”

“Feels pretty real to me,” Link said with a dreamy smile.

Rhett’s stomach growled.

“I’m gonna rinse off,” Link announced. “Why don’t you order us some food to calm that roaring stomach of yours?”

“Sure. What should we get?”

“It’s your turn to choose,” Link said, winking as he returned stark naked to the bathroom. “I’m done callin’ the shots for tonight.

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (15)

Chapter 15: Forged Bonds | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: Prepare yourselves for some wholesome Master and Apprentice fluff~ UWU

Also tagging @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​ @justtinfoley​ @berenilion​ @stellar-trinity​ @peterwandaparker​ @calgasm​ @queen-destenie​ @cal-jestis​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @calsponchoemporium​ @fallenjedii​ @sweeetteaa​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC | Special tags for this chapter: Initiate Trials, Apprentice Tournament, Nomara Anesh, Jedi Master! Fem OC, Togruta! Fem OC, Force Bond, Master and Apprentice, Youngling! Jidné

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 | Previous: Part 14 | Next: Part 16 | Masterlist

15 of ?

25 BBY

Nomara afforded a whole day to meditate in the designated chambers within the temple. Lately, she has been having visions, though indistinct, and she could hear sounds but can’t completely understood what they’re saying. However, they weren’t negative feelings and yet they still intrigued her—motivating her to pursue the reality of these visions until they’re as clear as the things she sees with her naked eye.

Master Loriq joined her, settling himself on the seat across hers. He brought his legs up on the cushion and crossed them together, he sat with a venerable poise that made him appear respectable and noble. Despite his nearly-silent entrance, Nomara continued to meditate unable to acknowledge the man who went into the room; her former master found a serene expression on her face—remaining very still and relaxed, the only movement he caught was the rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes.

Not meaning to interrupt, Loriq sensed the conclusion of the young Togruta’s meditation.

“Your thoughts dwell on the child, Nomara,” he uttered out of the blue.

“Frankly, because of the promise I guaranteed to her mother, Master. There is also another thing,” her response caused the older Jedi to shift in his seat, leaning an inch forward to listen closely. “It’s likely that her strong connection with the Force factors to it, but in a way I can’t really explain… Perhaps, to simply put it, I feel like I am the only one fully aware of her capability and potential as a Jedi.”

The old master gave himself a moment to ponder on this. He slightly slouched, propping his elbow atop his lap as he rubbed his bearded chin.

He smacked his lips, “The Force bridged your and Jidné’s energies, perhaps it began the moment you discovered her.”

This response caused Nomara’s head to slightly bob sideways and her eyebrows pulled with a hybrid of confusion and fascination.

“But Master Yoda said attachments are forbidden,” Nomara counter-argued.

“The Force linking you and child together is an attachment in a certain point of view, but not in the exact same definition the Jedi Masters in the Council believe in—the kind that they forbid. I wouldn’t deny the ways of the Force intervening with any occurrence at all, I’d like to think it is its way of communicating to us without the need of words.”

“If you look at it that way, Master, that kind of does make sense. Just a bit too much to wrap my head around it,”

The old master chuckled at the comment of his apprentice, she is still young and has a long way to go—both as a Jedi and a Seeker, he hoped that her post as such would allow her to see things in various perspectives.

“Nomara, if we sever ourselves from our feelings—whether towards ourselves or others—what does that make us then? The living Force is all about connecting those around you. It may be difficult to comprehend today, but you will soon. That is something the Jedi are lacking in virtue right now.”

“You’re lucky you’re confiding this only to me, Master Yoda and Master Windu would strongly disagree with you,” the Togruta meant that as a half-joke to which Master Caius received positively and agreed with.

“Even Master Qui Gon thinks likewise. If I could name all the Jedi who think similarly like he and I, perhaps the count could only fit within my one hand,” said Master Caius spoke in a dismal tone, somewhat hoping that there were more who wouldn’t dismiss his perspective as odd and “not the Jedi way” as some called it.

“I hope to become as open and wise about the Force as you are, Master,” Nomara consoled.

Loriq quickly zones out of his somber trance and then places his hand atop his apprentice’s shoulder with such affirmation, quickly squeezing it as they both shared small, sober smiles at one another. He excuses himself and prepares to leave the room in Nomara’s solitude.

“Master, another query,”

The Togruta stopped the man from getting closer to the door. Master Caius angles his entire body to face his apprentice.

“What is it, Nomara?”

Nomara had the words piling at the tip of her tongue already, she thought it was a bold question, and so she took a deep breath before speaking it out.

“If I were to become a mentor…” she trailed. “I hope to be as good as you.”

Her words intrigued the master, but it warmed him as well. He sensed that she yearned affirmation when she said those words. The old master had an inkling of her motive between the lines of her sentence, not once did he shun her for her ambitions or aspirations, in fact, he supported and encouraged her greatly—something that he found nearly absent amongst the Jedi.

“Worry not, Nomara, I believe you are more than ready than you think,” and with that, Master Caius gave a slow yet curt bow at the Togruta before departing the meditation chamber.

During one of the Initiates’ Training, Yoda personally visited the stands and observed the children. Jidné in particular seemed to have shown great potential—she was both athletic and nimble, her lack of brute strength against the bigger children were compensated for her dexterity.

Her performance has impressed the mentors, but one of her most prominent traits is her innate impulse to help those in need. Nomara spotted Jidné helping her two friends, Brese and Leane, in the middle of a practical application phase of the lesson.

“Bend your knees a little like this, Leane, that way there’s more balance for you!” Jidné coached.

“So…” Leane mimicked Jidné’s posture, lightsaber in hand. “L-Like this?”

“That’s it! You got it!” the girl squealed and quickly resumed her own stance.

“Kinda makes it less likely for me to fall off!” Brese added, Jidné agreed to the young Nautolan boy and then passed that knowledge to Leane.

The three younglings then faced their individual training spheres. They managed to block and deflect the non-lethal yet stinging blasts of the hovering balls, the three of them celebrated briefly but Master Yoda—who was today’s proctor—decided to challenge the children. With one hand, he summoned a number of large helmets that were too big for the younglings’ heads. Using the Force, each and every helmet was worn on their heads by Master Yoda’s whim.

“How are we gonna see the targets?!” Brese exclaimed openly, speaking for everyone in the room.

“The Force will guide you! Your surroundings, it connects you to, hmm.”

There wasn’t exactly any room for argument there. The younglings prepared themselves, the once tight and confident grips around their sabers became shaky and clammy—their self-esteem was left in the dark when the visors came down.

Some of them managed to deflect the shots, but only for a few times or so until they were stung in the arm, shoulder, or leg. The others never resumed the proper stances anymore, they simply stood erect while waving their lightsabers in the direction of the training drones. Jidné, on the other hand, buckled herself slightly—she was still unsure on where the drone was going in front of her, sometimes her saber doesn’t even go in the same direction as the drone does, but she remained focused.

In the last minute, she was able to deflect one shot. The drone zoomed to its upper left, Jidné turned her head to that direction—despite being virtually blind—and waved her saber around, antsy for more shots to deflect. It was a bit of a stretch, but she hoped she’d be given a barrage of it—that’s simply her being overly-excited with the thrill of success.

“Ow!”

Jidné’s clean streak of four blocks was cut by the fifth shot stinging her shoulder. Nomara—along with the other Jedi visiting the stands—examined Jidné’s demonstration. The whole time, the Togruta was stricken with the child’s progress over time. The youngling seems to have honed her lightsaber skills, even though they’re most probably still learning Form I: Shii-Cho.

At that moment, Nomara Anesh has fully made up her mind.

—–

24 BBY

The most opportune time for Nomara to speak up has come.

She waited outside the Council’s door, patient and impatiently at the same time. The longer she stood by the door, the more anxious she became. She rubbed her clammy hands together until the warmth fizzled out the jolting nerves underneath her skin.

The hiss of the door startled her, no one was there to greet her in, the door opening by itself gestured her to come in the Council Chambers. Nomara had only gotten a few paces into the chamber, from there she found all of the masters in their respective seats, her eyes quickly surveyed and named them mentally one by one.

She put herself in the center of the room. All of the masters gave either a piercing glance or an inquisitive, gentle one—Masters Aayla Secura, Shaak Ti, Plo Koon, and Yaddle to name a few, were the latter.

“Seeker Anesh,” initiated Mace Windu, a quick gesture of the hand served as his greeting.

She bowed to return the acknowledgement before speaking her piece.

The green, sage Jedi Master slowly lifted his eyelids and then angled his head up to acknowledge Nomara’s presence—even though he already has when she stepped into the room.

“A request?” Yoda inquired.

Nomara shakes away the non-existent anxiety that the masters’ gazes inflicted on her as she stands at the very center of the council chamber, she hugged herself with her arms tightly underneath her sleeves—mentally rehearsing how she’s going to begin her speech.

“I wish to train the youngling I discovered,”

The Jedi’s long, pointed ears pricked up.

“Little Jidné Sheedra, hmm?”

Nomara nodded in reply.

All of the Council members knew that it was Nomara who brought Jidné into the Temple, but only a handful of them were aware of the young Togruta’s watchful eye over the youngling—unbeknownst to them, this is Nomara filling in her end of the promise.

“This is most unusual,” Ki-Adi-Mundi commented amidst the silence. “Normally, younglings are not assigned to a master until they finish the final phase of their training.”

“Jidné has not yet completed the Initiate Trials,” Windu interjected. “She and her batch will have yet to undergo the Apprentice Tournament in a month’s time.”

“Yes, Master Windu, I am aware,”

“Pursuing to train the child to become your Padawan learner…” Yoda trailed off. “Your Seeker position, you must give.”

“I understand and I have come to terms with myself on that subject,” Nomara’s voice firmed. “I am willing to relinquish my position as a Jedi Seeker, in exchange of me being allowed to become Jidné Sheedra’s mentor if she passes the Initiate Trials.”

“I sense that there is a much deeper reason within your request, young Anesh,” Plo Koon politely adds, leaning away from the backrest of his seat.

Nomara felt the need to finally disclose the promise she made to Tymara. In the middle of her piece, she blinked fast many times, coming upon a realization—stemming from that one promise, she and Jidné had already forged a bond. In the exact second when Nomara promised the mother that her daughter will be taken care of it, the Force has already molded and sealed their link. The other masters sensed the young Togruta’s conviction and commended her for it. The masters noticed her trail off and then pick herself up and her words.

They deliberate on the spot with mere glances amongst one another. Nomara hung her head low while keeping her eyes on the masters speaking with their eyes. It didn’t take long for them to come to a decision.

“Very well,”

Nomara’s head perked up from Mace Windu’s two simple words.

“Jidné Sheedra is to be your Padawan if she passes the Apprentice Tournament,”

Nomara is immensely elated. She couldn’t contain her excitement, the least she can do to hold herself is bite her lip. She struggled to calm and recompose herself, when she did—she thanked the Council as a whole, bowing to them ceaselessly before departing the room.

As soon as the young Togruta was out of the room, the masters exchanged looks once again. They’re intrigued by the connection manifesting within Nomara and Jidné, even if they haven’t fully interacted with one another quite closely.

One month seems to have passed by so quickly.

Jidné, Brese, Leane, and the other younglings eagerly waited for this day. But now that the time has come, they’re not sure if what they’re feeling is uncontainable excitement or nerve-racking anxiety or a mix of both.

“You guys ever ready?” Brese in the middle asked his two friends.

“Well, kinda…” Jidné shrugged her shoulders.

“My hands are sweaty!” Leane grumbled.

For the first time in these younglings’ lives, it’s only this day when they’ve seen the stands to be filled to the brim. Looking back to their training days, the number could only fit within each of their own two hands; now, there seems to be no space left between one Jedi to the other.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this…?” Leane whimpered.

Jidné rests her hand on her friend’s shoulder, consoling her, “Don’t worry, Leane. We’ll make it—the three of us.”

By rote, a flock of thirty-two younglings shall be pitted against one another in pairs. Prior to the day of the tournament, the children were already briefed on the rules and how it will go; one day before the tournament itself, they already know who they’re dueling with.

They were also forewarned that the masters will be observing them, the coaches did their best in quelling the pre-tournament anxiety that they’ve borne into the younglings’ heads. Although fazed and ridden with anxiety—so much so that she couldn’t properly grip her saber—Jidné mentally coaxed herself and simply do what she keeps doing, she believed that such a mindset has taken her far.

I won’t let myself falter on the most important day of them all! She proclaimed, staring at the silver finish of her saber.

The flock of younglings were arranged in a column and split into two upon their entry to the arena, they marched in synchronization, lining up the border of the floor. Tera Sinube and Master Yoda stood at the center to give their opening remarks albeit a brief one; when the two old masters stepped away and stood under the shade of the stands—that was the first pair’s cue to come forward.

It was Brese against a green Twi’lek boy. The Nautolan boy capitalized on his innate nimbleness during the battle and keeping mind of Jidné’s own tips during their practical lessons—which he and Leane found greatly helpful.

A duel would normally last less than half an hour, depending on the caliber of both children. This is the only time the younglings would go all out with everything they’ve learned. Five pairs later, it was Leane against another human girl—both of them sensed one another’s anxiety, but eventually got into the thrill of the action. Green sabers clashed against one another, shining bright light around the arena as one parries the other—while not admittedly as strong as the bigger children, Leane was flexible and lithe like Brese, she was able to dodge and make a quick follow-up attack seconds after her evasion.

Jidné was only able to quell her nervousness by quietly supporting her friends from where she stood. Flashing secret smiles at them when they look her way.

“That child has an innate ability to put people at ease,” Loriq thought out loud, exclusively within Nomara’s earshot.

Nomara smiled, reminiscing the moments where Jidné makes everyone smile all too easily, beginning from the moment where she was staying over in their house in Eshyn.

“Yes, I think so too,” she concurred.

Now it was Jidné’s turn. Paz was standing beside her, the tall blond boy cheered her on, whispering “Good luck!” to her before she’d step forward. She beamed a smile and whispered back a quick “Thanks!” and then patted her saber dangling by her belt.

Jidné is pitted against a Mirialan boy. As per tradition, they bowed at one another upon stepping into the center, afterwards they take a step back to draw their sabers. The Mirialan’s green saber contrasted heavily with Jidné’s purple saber. The opponent was indeed nimble, at par with Jidné’s dexterity, but what the girl did next surprised everyone.

This was the very first time Jidné demonstrated her Force Shroud, although she’s still in the middle of refining it herself.

Regardless, she was able to render herself almost invisible—the lights and the gray walls helped her blend in, leaving a trail of visible Force waves lingering in the air. The Mirialan boy’ frenzied eyes did little to aid him in spotting his opponent, only at the last minute did he sense the girl from behind him and deflected her attack, she re-materialized when their sabers met. It was flimsy on his end, but struggled to avoid fumbling.

They continued to trade strikes one after the other, Jidné read her opponent taking on the rather aggressive approach with little to no defensiveness, thus she took advantage of her dexterity and evaded the charging attacks of the Mirialan boy. Whenever he would deliver a hail of attacks at her, Jidné deflected them with clean forms and coordinated footwork. Having her purple saber’s tip hovering just mere inches in front of the boy’s nose, that concluded her duel. The two younglings flashed an impressed grin at one another before doing the customary bow post-fight.

“Your youngling shows a lot of promise,” Loriq commented. “Her skill with the Force is impressive as well, despite being a little rough around the edges.”

The remainders of the tournament proceeded down to the very last pair. When the event concluded, the masters dispersed and conversed with one another in murmurs, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands as they judge the younglings who have caught their eye.

The younglings who were done with their turn were instructed to retire to the Initiates’ dormitory to rest. Brese and Leane waited for Jidné’s duel to end before going together which has become a joint habit of theirs.

“You were great, Jidné! I bet a lot of masters are gonna come asking you to be their Padawan!” Brese beamed.

“I think you and Leane were pretty great too!” Jidné clapped Leane’s and Brese’s shoulders with her two hands. For her next few sentences, she’s become more animated as they walked along the halls. Her upbeat attitude made the two children laugh, practically washing away their anxieties from earlier.

“The way you two went—POW! And then Leane went—WOOSH!! Aww, it was awesome! No doubt about it, you two, I think we did a great job in impressing the masters!”

Jidné added a comical kick and punched the air in the uppercut to visualize what she meant. Her post-fight energy doesn’t seem to be running out any time soon.

“I’m glad you think our training will pay off, Jidné! It kinda makes me feel better about myself,” Leane chuckled gleefully, the heaviness that anchored in her stomach melted away after being infected with Jidné’s cheerfulness.

Jidné hooked Leane’s neck with her arm, nudging her closer until they’re cheek-to-cheek, “Aw come on, Leane, you’re such a worrywart! How many times do I have to tell you you’re great? Though I don’t mind saying it over and over!”

The next morning, Jidné was summoned to one of the lecture chambers, a warden has personally come to their room to call her. She and Leane exchanged puzzled glances but eventually she followed the servant out of their room.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” Jidné asked when she walked up to the servant.

The servant chuckled, amused and endeared, “No, Jidné. But you’ll find out soon enough. Run along now.”

Jidné turned behind her, to her friend Leane, and waved at her before disappearing into the grand halls of the Temple. The girl navigated her way to the turbolift leading to the wing where the lecture halls are located. She eventually reached that specific room the servant had told her, with the push of a button the door retracted into its frame—revealing Master Yoda standing with a tall Togruta. Jidné recognized the second Jedi, it was the one who always watched at the stands, she recalled that this Jedi was also watching during the tournament last night.

The girl entered the room and stepped closer to the pair of Jedi Masters.

“I… I was told to come here by one of the wardens,”

“Indeed, you were, Jidné,” Master Yoda waddled towards the child, pegging the floor with his cane as he walked.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?”

The green, ancient Jedi chuckled delightfully, not intending to dismiss the child’s worry but rather uplift her spirit.

“Sought you, a master has; a Padawan, you are to be,”

The child’s eyes lit up, her heart skipped a beat, and her lips parted. Did her ears deceive her? No, she’s sure she’s heard it correctly.

The Togruta walked up to Yoda’s side, facing Jidné as well. She flashed a gentle, warm smile upon seeing the twinkle over the gloss of the child’s dark, soulful eyes.

“Hello, Jidné,”

“Hello,” she cooed.

“My name is Nomara Anesh, it’s nice to meet you…” Nomara stifled a chuckle. “Again.”

Jidné’s smile relaxed a bit and she bobbed her head to the side, “Eh? Again?”

Nomara smiled and knelt to the little girl’s height.

“I was the Jedi who found you and brought you here,”

The youngling’s grin reappeared, stretching from ear-to-ear, and the glint in her eyes shone twice as bright as the first one. The girl’s energy contrasted with her new master’s calm, warm, and kind demeanor.

“Really!? You did?!”

“That’s right,”

“That’s amazing!!” the girl leaped and squealed, butterflies filled her stomach so much that she could feel them coming out of her throat any moment now. “It’s strange though—but in a good way—that you’ve always felt familiar to me. But now that you’ve told me you’re the one who brought me here, that explains it… LIKE A WHOLE LOT!”

Jidné threw her arms up to emphasize her last words, her enthusiasm delighted Nomara; but when she realized that she’s behaving a bit too excitedly, she straightened herself up in the presence of Master Yoda and cleared her throat.

“Truly wonderful and pure her heart is,” Yoda commented, gesturing the girl to be at ease as there’s no need for such formality.

“Are you up for the task as my apprentice, Jidné?”

“Am I ever?!”

Nomara smiled at the child’s optimism. Deep inside her, she made a promise to herself to protect Jidné—not out of the obligation of a promise, but out of genuine love and care for the girl. Perhaps watching over her took her some time to realize, but it’s better late than never.

[nautiscarader]

Smutember 15 - naked photoshoot

Anonymous30 May

gloria/marnie/victor 15

Smutember 15 - naked photoshoot,

Gloria/Marnie/Victor (Pokemon), E, 2.3k

(Ao3)

If you liked my story, here’s a Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️.    

=============

Gloria and Marnie giggled when with a loud "pop", another bottle of excellent Bluk berry wine was opened, and Victor poured his ladies another glassfuls. They figured that as their stay at the Dojo at the Isle of Armor was coming to a close, they might as well end it with a bit of a bang, and their room was filled with music celebrating the trio's holidays mixed with another successful series of challenges.

As more sweetness entered their bodies, the atmosphere felt hotter and hotter, despite the cool, night breeze from the ocean, and neither Victor, nor Gloria batted an eye when Marnie was the first to drop her jacket. She wasn't surprised either when by the time she undid all the buttons, she found Gloria in Vitor's laps, sloppily making out, watching as his hands dash underneath her skirt

But as her clothes joined hers, Marnie got an idea. She grabbed Gloria and quickly pulled her from Victor's needy hug, much to both of them protesting. But when Marnie whispered her plan into her ear, the disappointment from lack of caresses turned into a sly smile and another fit of giggles.

- You stay there - Marnie commanded Victor, who was about to stand up as his girlfriends walked away from the sofa, grabbed their discarded clothes and disappeared in the bathroom.

The two didn't let Victor wait too long, as they were equally eager to test Marnie's idea. And when a girl in black, punk clothes appeared in the doorway and began walking towards Victor, he thought he might have drank a bit too much. Gloria's hairstyle clashed horribly with Marnie's clothes, but neither of them minded, as Gloria swayed her hips on the way back to Victor's laps.

But she had a competition in form of Marnie herself, who tried her best to hide her pigtails underneath the green cap of Gloria, but with no success. The long, plaid socks as a sight Victor didn't expect to see, and when the two girls surrounded him, his mind got fuzzy once more as their pinkish dresses mixed into one blob of colour, especially when they pressed their chests against Victor's face.

With twice as much to love, his hands automatically dashed to their waists, and they were about to kiss, but he was depraved once more of experiencing his girlfriends, when Marnie promptly realised what else can they do.

- Hey, let's make some cards! - Good idea. - Gloria added - You know, we have paid for the bloody Rotomi terminal, we might as well use it...

This time, at least the two didn't leave Victor's side, as they called the Rotom-possessed camera to take their pictures. A short moment later, a whirring noise filled the room and two league cards fell from the terminal, with Marnie and Gloria's updated pics. But as Victor stared at Gloria's he couldn't help but notice one element missing...

And when his fingers slid across Gloria's slit, lost balance and was toppled to her back, she realised their jig was up, as her fall exposed her lack of panties.

- Shame, I hoped to see how Marnie's lingerie looks on you... - Victor murmured and dived his head between her legs.  

- You can see how I am rocking hers, though.

Marnie quickly lifted her - or rather Gloria's dress - exposing red plaid panties she was proudly wearing, though without the matching bra, as evident by two small bumps that were becoming more and more visible on her dress as her nipples hardened. Another bright flash of light temporarily blinded Marnie, and when she regained her sight, she was given one more card of hers, with her unashamedly lifting her dress up.

- Oh, you cheeky...

She pushed Victor once more between Gloria's legs, against her waiting, dripping sex, and as her thighs closed behind his neck, trapping him in the love lock, he knew what will come next. Marnie straddled Gloria, just so she could get a good angle and took a photo of Victor's face against Gloria's crotch, making her brown bush look like a very old moustache of his.

Gloria wasn't idle either. As soon as familiar panties came into her view, she dragged them down Marnie's legs, leaving both girls' snatches exposed and, when Marnie sat on her face, properly loved. Both Gloria and Victor didn't waste time, lapping at their girlfriends' pussies, which left Marnie the only one with nothing to do, at least not until she decided to lean forward and help Victor, when he had to take a breathe of fresh air.  

Marnie's head nearly collided with Victor's, Bouffalant-style, when Marnie decided to repay Gloria for her oral skills, and as the two ladies engaged in a sixty-nine, it was up to Victor to take a few new cards, with an updated number, of course.

But Marnie soon had a choice of what to caress, when Victor finally jumped out of his shorts, and was about to press his cock against the same entrance that Marnie was so lovingly making wet for him. The brunette salivated at the prospect of caressing both of her lovers, but just like Victor before, they were promptly depraved of that experience, when Victor got an idea of his own.

- Be right back, my loves.

Gloria had to wriggle out from between Marnie's thighs, interrupting their intimate connection, as they both stared at the bathroom's doors, and when Victor emerged they both laughed, just as he wanted to. It was a bit of a problem for male Poké-athlets competing in the championships, and Victor exemplified this problem perfectly. Through the league-sanctioned white shorts girls could plainly see his erection, hidden in one of his legs, desperately trying to get out.

Marnie quickly grabbed the Rotomi camera and snatched an innocent-looking picture that might actually had a chance of becoming an official one, if one was just looking at his face.

The young man quickly returned to his position, gotten rid of his shorts and shirt, and once more taunted Gloria with the feeling of his cock's head spreading her lower lips, rivalling Marnie's tongue and fingers. The feisty gym leader allowed him inside her girlfriend, feeling as Gloria shakes underneath her. And thus, the three began rocking their bodies in sync: Victor with his hips, Gloria still lapping at Marnie's sex, and Marnie herslef, kissing not one, but two of her lovers at the same time.

Marnie thought that with Gloria being loved by not one, but two people at once, she'd be the first to reach her peak, but it wasn't the case. There was something deeply erotic in watching Victor's cock ploughing into Gloria, especially as she could feel him underneath the skin of Gloria's underbelly, as Marnie concentrated on her clit. The brunette sneaked her hand underneath Victor's sack, giving him a quick massage that earned her a moan or two above her head. With each push of Victor's cock and lap of her tongue around Gloria's clit, the girl underneath her was trembling, moaning something, in her aggressive accent against her pussy, which only deepened the vibrations she was sending through her body.

And with Gloria tightening her grip on Marnie's tights, and Victor's rapid thrusts right next to her love's face, Marnie was the first to reach her climax, not as powerful as she might have wished, but strong enough to make her voice ring in their partner's ears...

Her eyes were filled with a flash of slight, and she instantly realised it wasn't just her pleasure overwhelming her. She saw a sly smile on Victor's face, and when she turned around and reached for the card, she saw herself, with her eyes closed and mouth agape, in a moment Kalosians call a blissful agony.

- Do I- Do i really look like it?

She showed the league card to Gloria, and she simply nodded, sticking her tongue in a cocky smile, still licking juices Marnie had flooded her with.

Marnie decided to step up her game and with her wobbly legs, she left the duo for another change of costume. When she left the bathroom a minute later, she found that her space ahs been taken, as Gloria's legs found their way to Victor's shoulders, as he was now furiously mate-pressing her. Marnie couldn't let that opportunity pass, and she made a quick photo of their heated scene, decorating it with a background of a Daycare Center, hoping it wouldn't be too prophetic, given his record of virility...

A moment later, Victor roared Gloria's name and filled her with his seed, dragging Gloria with him, as her pussy milked him of his essence and their lips and tongues mingled, sharing the juices Marnie has left on her. And only when the two came from their orgasmic high, they noticed their girlfriend sporting a new attire: the official dojo jacket... and just that, leaving her lower body utterly naked.

Both Gloria and Victor stared at her alluring, provocative outfit, before Marnie decided she wants the same piece of cake Gloria got. Straddling Victor, she pressed her pussy against his cock, feeling as it became harder and harder with each slide of her wet folds. His hands tried to undo the belt around her waist, but she promptly stopped. She wanted to make love in it... She allowed him to bury his face in the v-shaped cut , just so he could kiss her breasts, hidden behind the yellow martial arts jacket, while his cock was slowly coming back to full power. And just when Marnie felt it, she stood up, and turned around, knowing Gloria was ready too.

Marnie sat back in Victor's laps, sliding onto his cock, giving Gloria perfect opportunity to take a picture of half-naked Marnie bouncing up and down on Victor's cock. But Gloria wasn't just gonna sit idly; once the card was printed and joined the collection, she stormed against their mashed sexes and added her tongue to the mix, just like Marnie before, lapping at her clit and occasionally kissing Victor's shaft.

To make her job easier, Victor leaned back, tilting Marnie too, and that allowed Gloria to fully cover their joined bodies with kisses, knowing it will drive them both crazy and speed their way to heir shared climax. And she wasn't wrong; with Marnie bouncing for the second time atop one of her lovers, and Victor's cock being caressed by two girls again, the two reached their climaxes swiftly, though this time Gloria got to watch as Victor's cum drips down from Marnie's overflowed pussy... and she documented it, with another "click", of course.

The three joined in for a shared kiss and reached for their drinks, realising that in between each sessions they have drank it all. Victor looked at the small stash that Honey has given them as a parting gift that was supposed to enrich their life back in Galar, and asked a rhetorical question

- Another one?

========================

When the morning arrived, Victor woke up not with a hangover, but in a state of blissful light-headedness that only Marnie and Gloria could have provided. Their whole room, which they were supposed to clean by now - was filled with many clothes they have collected during their travels, showing how much fun did they have last night.

But try as he might, he could only remember some of it, but fortunately, the technology has managed to restore his memories after they have succumbed to the drunken pleasures. He looked through the cards, and with each one, the memories of their night were coming back:

In one of the cards, Gloria sitting on a chair as a throne, with both Victor and Marnie tending to her breasts; next was a vertical one, showing the sofa, with Victor in the middle and both girls spread on each of his side, so their lips could meet around his cock. Another series pictured him taking Gloria from behind, leaving Marnie to lick him and catch any cum that spilled from her girlfriend's pussy; a second variant swapped the girls around. Fifth card looked perfectly innocent, if not for the fact that Marnie was sitting on Victor's face, hiding his hair underneath her dress she put back on.

And of course, the collection was completed with cards in which each of the girls smiled at the camera, proudly wearing Victor's thick cum splattered all over their faces, just before they were about to kiss and clean each other's loads with a series of delicate kisses on the third one. Now that's what Victor would call an "ultra-rare".

And the very last one depicted the three naked lovers, washed off all their energy after a night of sexual marathon, sleeping together amidst the pandemonium they've made of their wardrobes. They all wore tired, but content smiles, as they clung to each other, in tight, loving embrace.

But something was wrong with the picture, and with his mind hazed, it took Victor a moment to understand what. And then he asked himself a very important question: if they were all asleep, then who took the picture?

With trembling hands, he flipped the card around and his eyes widened at the hand-written note.

"You can stay a few more days if you want, and use my wardrobe. I wouldn't mind joining you either...

XOXO, Honey".

[michael-weinstein]

Leave me alone!

WARNING: This post is a venting-out of boiling anger, which can amount to mental illness. Maybe not for those weak of heart, but for sure for those who caused me so much anxiety, and contrarily, those who want to help me out of this. As for everyone else, read and suffer.

Well, corona, the world is practically on fire, and what else... Oh yes. Things in the relatively more intimate world (that is, for me) - namely, school, my followings on Instagram, YouTube and email subscriptions - keep bothering me to an incredible extent. I was wanting to write this blog post since March honestly, but I didn't find the time and the need to vent everything out. Now, though, that I am really mad, I'm somewhat thankful for the opportunity, because I'm making my opinions known, and merely hoping that they get more circulation than before.

My main classical music following had been Deutsche Grammophon and Decca (through email and Instagram, and - in the case of the latter - 2 YouTube channel subscriptions), the Berlin and Vienna Philharmonic Orchestras (Instagram), Norman Lebrecht's Slipped Disc (email) and the ClassicsToday.com editor David Hurwitz (YouTube viewing). All of the following had, to a certain extent, drive me insane in the past few months, in ways that I can't describe (one time with Hurwitz, it was so much so I needed to vent my anger in this very outlet). To a certain extent, for those who remember, the same happened with the Mahler Foundation in May, but since writing that post, I've come to realize that not only this is pretty much not important (at least much less than it seemed at the time), there are far worse issues that I'll need to address (I won't yet, perhaps to get more reading and get the image fixed, but I'm hoping I will address this important issue relatively soon). My great bane with the BPO and VPO, but especially with DG, came around the time of the Salzburg Festival in August, which was itself a bane all by itself, but by having these 3 leading musical institutions being an important part of the Festival just made me go bonkers. I don't really had a problem with the Festival being held at the time, when corona cases where relatively low, as long as the Festival was being sensitive, and did things on a much smaller scale as they had said at the beginning that they would. But the moment that they do Elektra and Mahler's 6th, whatever social distancing there would occur in the audience, with so many people onstage and/or in the pit, they're just calling for trouble. It is indeed something of a miracle that there were no casualties during the Festival, but I really think it would have been smarter not to take the risk, whatever the need for culture (besides, probably only those who would attend are those who are "jet-set" and are in Salzburg every year for the wrong reasons, but I will maybe discuss that sometime). The Vienna Philharmonic were therefore one of the major partners in the crime, more so than their Berliner counterparts. But, and this is the important part, I would very much in my hoped-for career as probable pianist and maybe composer, but most as conductor, want to collaborate with the Berliners and the Viennese. They are orchestras that I maybe don't need, but I do want to make music with. The same thing can't really be said for Decca and, more importantly, DG. Interestingly, Decca almost seems dead in the way that they rarely post on Instagram, sent a newsletter or upload on YouTube, while DG is excessive beyond normal human standards. I think they post on Instagram averagely 3 times a day, upload on YouTube twice, and send a newsletter each weekend. How the hell can you bear such a thing?! There are more adventurous labels with pretty "big names" (Alpha, Chandos and Hyperion, to name just three), that I would feel more comfortable to record with, than DG, Decca and probably also Warner (I don't follow them anywhere, which is probably just as good, considering the pervious sentences).

In addition, throughout the Festival the Karajan institue also helped to bring in their own click-baiting and "martyring" of their namesake. My attitude to Karajan as man and conductor is more mixed than it was in the past (most of which can be attributed to Lebrecht), but ever since then they made me emotionally sick with statements to the effect that Karajan was the greatest conductor ever. I have to admit that I'm much more of a Bernstein fan, and that I had barely listened to Karajan recently, but the Bernstein Offices never, apart from the centenary, did interviews of the Karajan kind, and even I'm going to admit that some Bernstein interpretations are less well than some others, maybe even than Karajan's!

So now with the Salzburg band-wagoning out of the way, there are two other culprits: Hurwitz and Lebrecht. I've encountered Hurwitz fairly recently, and I should add, that I have rather mixed relations towards him. One day in the morning, I see a video he uploaded and it makes me absolutely mad (see the link above), and then in the evening he uploads a humorous roast with which I completely agree. But generally, I'm just mixed with him. My relation to Lebrecht is also mixed, though generally positive. He has just finished a survey of most of Beethoven's output. However, his behavior regarding the "Schenker storms" is either complete misunderstanding or just outright conservative foolery.

There are 2 other "classical music" personalities which I have to mention. My relation with Mark Berry is very mixed, but he hasn't bothered me as much since March, as the main activity on his blog Boulezian (shows pretty much where he is heading) is concert and opera reviews, and he didn't have much of a chance to that, so I'm thankful for that. I will give him credit though that he is actually one of 2 people whose blogs gave me the impetus to start mine.

The other one is the other "classical music" personality I want to talk about briefly, Kenneth Woods. He is music director of the Colorado MahlerFest, the English Symphony Orchestra, and writer for his blog View from the Podium. I like him very much, as I share a lot of his musical affinities - Mahler and Shostakovich, to begin with - as well as professional insights into music of (among many others) Strauss and - perhaps more importantly from an interpetive point of view these days - Beethoven. I kind of just happen to agree with many of his opinions, and even those which I didn't think of before, I agree with them because they make sense to me. I think that the reason he appeals to me, is because he's a conductor and a cellist (also used to be a guitarist, and does it in his free time!). With the exception of Hurwitz, who was a percussionist in local orchestras, everyone else I mentioned above are scholar-critics. Woods appeals to me because he's a practical musician (and he keeps a rule not to talk about any living conductors, or at least not mentioning them by name). He was an orchestral cellist, as well as a soloist and chamber music partner as well, so he experiences the actual music world of making music from both sides, as cellist and conductor. Hurwitz, Lebrecht and Berry all might have interesting observations, but their ultimate test is in the performance lab, and that is why I like Woods so much.

So far, I've dealt with classical music's personalities and industry. Now I have to deal with my friends and other Instagram followings. It's more irritating, because even though they are dishonest like the "establishment-industry", they are closer in my world in a sense. Yom Kippur was recently, and I can still remember everyone around just going "I'm sorry, God" and all the other standard things one says before Yom Kippur. WHO THE HELL ARE YOU KIDDING!!! Everyone, especially yourselves, know that we promise never to do these things again, and barely an hour has passed since Yom Kippur is out, and we come back to do those things again. Every year it happens. Everyone knows it, it is simply an open secret that nobody either needs or wants to say. I say the same on myself, by the way. Yom Kippur is a complete lie for us, because neither me, you, and even the most just and Mitzvah-keeping person on Earth, are able to keep the promises that we will get better than this. It never happens. Why do we get flodded with this? It's absolutely no worth. You say that you're "sorry about the way I insulted you"? Complete rubbish. Unless you found out that the entire situation was so stupid you can laugh about it, nobody is sorry about anything they said. The king is naked, and as the meme says, "always has been".

My classmates start growing on my nerves sometimes. The way people just ask for answers so immediately and lazily, without having tried to answer things themselves just makes me go mad. I don't have a problem if they try to do it, or if they're in a rush at the last moment, and ask some guys for answers. But when as soon as the assignment is sent, they ask for someone to do the job for practically 10 other classmates (if not more!), that's too annoying.

My teachers, however, go on a different way of making my life difficult. They don't really annoy me by poking their selfish faces at me as much as expecting me to do everything perfectly. Even those who are kinder (in a sense, since I'm one of the good boys, so kinder practically means that they teach better or are more interesting) make me mad. There are only 2 teachers (another comes close) in the entire school I'm able not only to appreciate, but also to love learning with them. Fortunately, one of them is my homeroom teacher. Without these few teachers, I wouldn't care about school at all. It could just go to hell. We currently have a shutdown, but I still remember a few weeks ago that during a math class, I needed to read my score of Shostakovich's 4th just to keep myself from making my mental health even worse than it was (and probably still is). And even during shutdown, things are not improving. Zoom calls were to be a complete waste of time, were it not for my piano lessons and (sometimes) therapist sessions. History class is especially badly taught. The teacher of that class is of the kind of "the smaller the group - the better", because when I was with her in smaller groups she truly was better. Mind you, I'm the nerd guy who loves history (though I'm probably not the only one in our class), and she managed to make history boring. That's a complete failure. Sports class is a complete waste of time in ways I can't really describe. You can only feel it.

I have though been somewhat fortunate since May and June. Because of my critique of the Mahler Foundation and its online Festival, I've got in touch with a 8th-grader (they/them) from Canada, an a college sophomore in English literature from Florida. We three formed an online gang of just us, getting together on the basis of our love for Mahler and Shostakovich. With their advice, having understood that I will need some really fitting music to get me through the year, I've decided that I will listen on my way to and back from school, as well as during breaks, to listen to nothing but Shostakovich. That plan sort of fell through pretty quickly (by which I mean, only 3 days), but Shostakovich was a great part of my phone repertoire in these first 3 weeks of the school-year. In the last week, however, Henze's Fantasia for Strings took over, and it was somewhat fitting, given that the music began its life as Henze's score for Young Törless, an adaptation of the novel by the fairly similar name of Robert Musil, by Volker Schlöndorff (his directorial debut). These two, the 8th-grader and the sophomore, are practically my main lights these times, when we sometimes meet for a call on Discord at night.

However, these few lights are still engulfed by the complete darkness and hypocrisy that surrounds me now. I've had enough! My complaints go out now especially to the education system in this country which is just reacting horribly to the situation! I can simply go crazy from that! All the Instagram personalities, do me a favor, and please do consider those who are probably less well mentally than you are, and stop showing the way you're enjoying yourselves in pools and parties. And cut the "no filter" crap! If something would have really been with no filter, it would be ordinary and dull. To quote Alex Ross, who in turn paraphrases Nietzsche, I'm done with "the lie of the grand style". Less Wagner (in his conservative bits) and his idiotic imitators, Brahms, Mendelssohn, and all those who thought that music stopped with Beethoven, more Mussorgsky, Scriabin, Schoenberg, Berg, Webern, Satie, Stravinsky, Bartok, Shostakovich, Weill, Hindemith, Weinberg, Bernstein, Britten, Nono, Berio, Henze, Messiaen, Lutoslawski, Ligeti, Penderecki, Schnittke, even Boulez and Cage. And please do more meaningful Bach, Vivaldi, Mozart, Haydn, Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, Berlioz, Liszt, Bruckner, Tchaikovsky, Mahler, Richard Strauss, Debussy, Ravel and Sibelius.

(Quick sidenote: I have to admit, that this post was written in turns, I wasn't commited to write it. Sometimes I got super angry and vented.)

A few days ago, my sophomore friend sent me a link to a Discord server, where she, the 8th-grader and a couple other friends were part of, and asked me if I would join in. I said I would join gladly. This is my first Discord server, and therefore I've got 4 other friends. This is where I feel at home, where I belong (not in terms of family, thank God, but in terms of friends). I really do prefer being with them than with my classmates.

Our educational system is either a joke, or a gulag. What is the point to have being taught the material on Zoom, for averagely 6 and a half hours a day, 5 days a week, and putting even more workload on us than we had been in school physically, and even more than when we studied online from March to June! And then they expect us to ace through the final exams that we have in the next 2 years! Once in the past few months, I've once wondered about a question: would I prefer to ace my exams, but thereafter being so mentally and emotionally shocked that I will need psychaitric treatment? Or should I not do them at all, but still being able to do what I love doing and be happy with myself? After thinking about it for several seconds, I answered that I would prefer the latter, and ever since then I've been saying this to certain people around me unhesitatingly.

Leave me alone! I'm not able to cope with all of this! I'm feeling so empty, I don't even want to eat a whole ton, sleep a lot, or even die! I'm just empty! I'm barely able to play the piano (that is mentally), I just get tired of it almost immediately! I don't want this to happen! Everything loses its appeal to me!

Over the past few weeks, I've come to know Shostakovich's 8th String Quartet, one of the most autobiographical and depressive pieces ever written. It was composed in 1960, when he had just returned from bombed-out Dresden, where there was a movie filmed about the last days of World War II to which Shostakovich composed the music, but more importantly, it was not long after he had suddenly joined the Soviet Communist Party (probably forced to). These 20 minutes of the quartet feature throughout a musical motif - the pitches D, E-flat, C, B-natural. In German notation they are D, S (in German it's actually Es, but the pronounciation is the same), C, H (B is used in German for B-flat). The composer's name, as rendered in German is: Dmitri Schostakowitsch. This is not the first time he has been consciously using this motif (he had already been doing so for nearly a decade), but this is the most extensive use he has ever made of it. It's as if he is obsessed with himself. Shostakovich, as a result of joining the party, was obsessed with suicide, and most of his works from there on consider death, in a way he rarely did previously, death for completely fatalistic reasons, nothing to do with the authorities. The 15th String Quartet, his last, is even bleaker.

The basic point is that ever since I came to know this piece and the school year started, I've used the slogan DSCH as a symbol of protest. I can still remember having half-done math homework, and before scanning them and sending, I scribbled DSCH clearly and furiously across the top of the first page.

The last movement of Shostakovich's 8th String Quartet, a slow fugue on a theme beginning with the DSCH motif, is the movement in which Shostakovich seems to obsessed with this motif the most. And all I can say is that for the past two months, if not even more, I've been wanting to just say "Leave me alone!" for eternity, like DSCH in that movement. Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone....leave me alone...leave me alone....leave me alone....leave me alone.....leave me alone..... leave me alone..... leave me alone..... leave me alone....... leave........... me.......... alone......... leave......... me........ alone....... leave....... me....... alone............ leave............ me............. alone................ leave.............................. me.............................. alone..............................

leave me alone

[thehomierobbstark]

Let’s Talk About Sex: Intermission II

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Intermission I Chapter 3

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

Prompt: Aight, so iOKnoW bout yall but… I got some mad ‘fears’ about sex 😂😂😂. I got so many questions, so many horrible imaginations, so many embarrassing ass scenarios I’ve thought of in my head about what might happen when I finally do the do. Basically, ya girl been thankin (thinking) too much, and I done fucked around and thought up this shit.

A/N: A longggg time ago a lovely anon came in my inbox spitting an idea, and my ass finally got around to making it happen.  It’s a lil modified, but I hope y’all still enjoy it nonetheless.  Thank you anon for your brilliance!!

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh, twirling the forkful of salad around in your fingers as you stare off into space, lost in thought.  Ranch dressing drips off a piece of lettuce onto your tupperware lid, splattering a little onto the table, but you don’t even notice, your mind entirely somewhere else.

“Hello?”

The voice of your best friend, Nichelle, filters through to your brain, and you irritatedly bring your mind back to the present, unhappy to be interrupted.

“Huh?”

“Damn girl! You was zoned tf out! What the hell you thinking about that got your ass stuck like that!?” She interrogates you, her eyes squinted in suspicion.  While you normally wouldn’t have wasted anytime telling her about one of the many sex daydreams you regularly found yourself having, the one between you, Erik, and a certain little razor wasn’t one you were willing to share this time.

This one was your own naughty little secret, made even more special by the fact that this time it was an actual memory rather than a fantasy.

Clearing your throat, you wave her off.

“Nothing girl, just thinking about work,” you lie, popping the salad into your mouth and chewing.

“…Uh huh.” She grunts, not buying it. “All I know is, don’t nobody ever catch me thinking bout work with a smile on my face and biting my lip. You must got some bomb ass benefits girl,” Picking up her own fork she eats a mouthful of pasta, shaking her head at you.

Your nostrils flare and you bring your hand to your mouth to keep food from flying out of it as you snort, laughing from being caught.  You didn’t even realize your face was out here exposing you like that.

“Mind your business, bitch,” you tell her after swallowing, reaching over to grab your tea and take a sip.

“I’m just sayin, if you gone be out here reliving your sexcapades you can at least try not to eyefuck the table while you do it.” She shrugs her shoulders, and you’re grateful this time there wasn’t anything in your mouth because you immediately giggle at her statement.

“Shut the hell up Chelle, damn.” You whisper as your eyes shift around the small outdoor cafe to make sure no one else overheard. “Besides, don’t you have your own man and kinky sex dreams you should be thinking about? Stop being so damn nosy.” You fuss at her, angling your fork before stabbing into her pasta and stealing some.

“Girl I would except that nigga not here” Her head falls back and she grumbles, her face sulking.  “He’s in Georgia at some stupid work ‘thing’, which means I don’t get any dick until next Friday. That’s why I gotta live vicariously through you bitch! Now pleaseee, tell me something, I’m dying over here.”

She gives you a sad puppydog look, poking out her lips at you.

You roll your eyes. “Girl you know that shit don’t work on me.  Why don’t you just FaceTime Brian and tell him you’re horny? Isn’t phone sex y’all’s thing?” You take some more pasta, savoring the delicious Cheesecake Factory takeout.

Blowing a raspberry, she leans her head on her fist.  “We had to stop doing that after he answered the phone with his mom in the car.”

“Wait, WHA-“

“It’s a long story, don’t worry about it. Anyway,” She waves her hand as if waving the cringey memory away. “How have you and Erik been?  I know y’all probably been fucking nonstop since you got your tests back, huh? Ol bowlegged ass,” she eyes you coyly with a knowing smirk that says ‘I know what y’all been doing’.

You chuckle yet again at your hilarious friend, so thankful for her ability to always keep you laughing.

“Actually, we haven’t been fucking, thank you very much. My broke ass lungs made sure of that.”  You tell her the story of how you almost choked and died from seeing Erik’s dick, and when she finally stopped cackling at you she grabbed your hand, patting the back of it.

“Oh you poor, poor bitch,” Her face turned down into a faux look of pity.  “You might as well reserve your burial plot now because from the looks of it your ass not gonna survive him dicking you down.”

You snatch your hand from hers, glaring at her.

“I mean let’s be honest here,” she continues, ignoring you, “your ass talk a lot of shit, so you’re mad trippin if you don’t think he won’t obliterate your walls given the first opportunity.”

You pick up your phone, opening your messages while you let her words go in one ear and out the other. It was bad enough you had to live with the knowledge that the mere sight of seeing Erik naked had you hyperventilating, you didn’t need to think of what other ridiculous responses your body would have once he actually started putting use to it.

She continues roasting you as you click on a new message from Erik, seeing a link to a video attached.  A message accompanies it.

Put in your headphones before you watch.

You fish your earbuds out of your purse, completely ignoring your friend now.  Clicking them into the audio plug, you put the buds in your ears before clicking on the link.

The video starts with a view of Erik sitting at what looks like his home office desk, clad in a red T-shirt and a pair of black sweats.  The top of his face is cut off, but you can tell its him by the signature keloids sprinkled over his arms and the telltale smirk on his face displaying his gold fronts, letting you know he was up to no good.

“Hi baby, I miss you today,” the audio plays, and you hear his smooth voice bleed into your ears, sounding so sensual.  You almost forget that it’s a video and respond back, wanting to talk to him and tell him you miss him too.

“I can’t wait till you get home, but I wanted to show you something first before you got here.”

He pushes himself away from the desk, rolling back in his chair, and you’re able to see more of his lap now that it’s uncovered.  Lifting his shirt, he takes the bottom of it and tucks it between his teeth, giving you a peep of his uncovered chest and the long thin gold chain hanging under his shirt.

Leaning a little bit closer, your eyes focus on his belly button, thinking you see something odd there when he takes both his hands and pushes his sweats down, revealing his gorgeous, thick cock standing at full attention, the head of which stops just below his navel.

Your mouth drops and your eyes grow wide, completely entranced by the view of your man stripping down for you.  You watch as he takes one of his hands and grabs his heavy member, beginning a slow stroke from the base to the tip, twisting his wrist over the head.  

You feel a slow wetness start to leak from your pussy, and you shift your legs in your seat, not wanting it to seep past your panties.  

Erik continues pumping himself, taking in a ragged breath and speaking to you again.

“You see what you got me doing, princess?” He groans as his hand reaches its peak again, picking up the pace as he continues pleasuring himself.  “I can’t wait till you get home so Daddy can teach you how to touch him. I just need your hands on me babygirl,” He sucks in a breath, moaning as his head falls back. “And that mouth. Fuckkk…”

You lick your lips and swallow as spit fills your mouth, desperately wishing you could climb through the screen and into his lap right now.

Your fingers feel the side of your phone, looking for the volume button to turn it up when you hear something behind you.

“DAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNN!!!!!” Nichelle’s loud ass voice scares the shit out of you and you drop your phone, you earbuds snapping unplugged as it clatters to the ground, and the sounds of Erik moaning at top volume fill the outside patio.

You scramble to pick it up, grateful that other than you two and another single patron in the corner, nobody was really around to hear it.  Flipping your phone to silent, you exhale a deep breath before turning your burning gaze to your friend.

“What the hell!! You scared the fuck out of me! Why is your ass behind me anyway?!” you yell at her, your heart still beating out of your chest.

“You were ignoring me hoe! But more importantly, why didn’t you tell me his dick looked like that?” She points back at your phone screen at the paused video.

You press the home button, exiting out of the video player and dropping your phone in your bag. You growl as you start packing your stuff up, dumping your unfinished lunch into your lunch bag.

“I swear Niche, if you were anyone else I’d be cursing your ass out right now, you’re lucky its you.”  

She stops you and pulls you into a hug, one you grumbly accept as she apologizes.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, I promise, but your face looked so shocked I wanted to see what you were looking at.”

You couldn’t totally be upset about that, given that had it been any other time you’d have probably showed her whatever it was that had your eyes bugging out of your head. Too bad this time it ended up being a home video of Erik.

You shake her off, pushing her away.  “Yeah yeah whatever. I’m going home, I’mma see you later.”  You grab your stuff, leaning over to kiss Nichelle on the cheek before heading out.

“Where you going? You just gonna leave me here?” She calls after you.

“Did you not see the same video I did? I’m going HOME.” You yell back at her over your shoulder, laughing loudly.

“Try not to choke!” She calls after you, cheering you on as you rush yourself to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Baby Smut

[minnarr]

leia meets the prequels gang, pt. 3

Last time, Leia stuck to Padmé and Anakin like a burr; met Obi-Wan and confided in him; and managed to get on Anakin’s bad side. In this section, Leia tries to rest at Obi-Wan’s as the Senate declares war and they both get a surprise.

See all parts at this link

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The Temple had been like a kicked hive when Leia arrived. By the time Obi-Wan found her again, it seemed to have quieted into sleep at last. “My apologies,” he said, looking somehow even more tired than before. “I have not had an opportunity to make proper arrangements, but I can offer you a bed for the night. I’m afraid the Temple visitors’ quarters are rather overrun at the moment.”

It was strange to enter a Jedi’s quarters. They weren’t quite as ascetic as Leia had imagined; certainly more comfortable than a room on a Rebel base. “You can take Anakin’s room for now, if you don’t mind the mess,” Obi-Wan said. “There’s clean sheets, at least.” He pointed out the fresher, and a set of clean clothes he had found for her.

He hesitated in the middle of his kitchen, looking at her with perplexity.

“Go sleep,” Leia told him. “You look like you need it.”

He nodded, then ducked into his own room, the door closing a moment later.

Leia moved through the strange space, cleaning up as best she could around the bacta patches and aches. It was the first shower she’d had in... Well, it was long overdue. Anakin’s room was a mess; not filthy, just cluttered. There were racing posters, model ships, a worktable filled with mechanical odds and ends. It had the air of a bedroom where he’d grown up, and Leia wondered at that, and felt like an interloper.

When she finally sank into the bed, she expected to sleep immediately. Instead, her head flooded with images and sensations. Finally, she closed her eyes and began to count, following a familiar meditation exercise.

She had let the practice lapse over the last year or so, but it used to be one of her best tools to cope with her childhood panics. She resolved to start doing it regularly again. If nothing else, she could manage that.

Slowly, she managed to quiet the noise in her head and return to blankness.

The next morning, she woke earlier than she wanted to, her body screaming at her but her mind alert. It’s the sun, she realized, and groaned. To her surprise, when she stepped into the kitchen, she found Obi-Wan already there, a mug of caf in hand but his eyes closed. He startled when she took the pot from beside him to pour her own cup.

“Morning,” he said.

She looked him over. “Not enough sleep?”

“I don’t think a week would be enough,” he admitted.

“Agreed,” Leia said, and sat down across from him.

“I have a meeting with the Council this morning,” he said. “The Jedi High Council, I should say. I’m not sure how long it will take, but I will get you better settled in the next day or so. You don’t mind staying around here and resting for a few days, I hope?” His pleading eyes suggested she didn’t have many other choices.

“Has the Senate declared war yet?” Leia asked.

Obi-Wan winced. “No, not yet,” he said. “But the debates are well underway. I’ll leave you a datapad if you want to follow along.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Have you had a medical exam with the Temple healers yet?”

“I think they were busy,” Leia said.

“I’ll make you an appointment. It’s the first step, anyway, if you want to stay in the Temple for a little while.” There was a gap somewhere in there, as if there were another reason to arrange the exam. His mind was probably just wandering, though; anyone’s would be.

“You don’t have to look after me, you know,” Leia said dryly. “I can make whatever appointments I need.”

“Mm.” Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his beard, blinking at her. “You’re not a Jedi, so you need a sponsor to stay here. That would be me, and it’s my duty to liaise with Temple staff on your behalf. You just may be a bit bored for a few days. I...it might be better if you were to stay here, rather than wandering about the Temple.”

“Your people are gearing up for war, and I’m an unknown,” Leia said. “I understand.” She didn’t like it, but she understood. “I need the rest,” she assured Obi-Wan, and it wasn’t a lie. “I needed it even before we went haring off to Geonosis. I’ll take it while I can get it.”

The next days were an excruciating combination of idleness and expectation. Even hidden away in Obi-Wan's quarters, Leia felt the suffocating tension of these days as the Senate debated, and the Jedi High Council deliberated, and war slowly turned into a reality. She did visit a healer on the second day, who gave her a simple physical exam and took a blood draw to run routine tests. She didn’t stop to see Anakin. After their strange conversation, she wasn’t sure that he would want to.

One evening, Obi-Wan returned to his quarters and went straight to the sofa, settling into it with careful dignity. It looked like if he was any less careful, he would simply fall into it. “The Senate just declared war with the Confederation of Independent Systems,” he said heavily.

Leia set a mug next to Obi-Wan's seat: not caf, but a more soothing tea. “I know,” she said.

He picked up the tea and sipped it, his eyes closed. “We’ve accepted a clone army.”

“I know.”

“I’m a General.”

Leia sat down beside Obi-Wan and turned to him. They didn’t know each other well, but she had known war for far longer than he had, for all his experience getting into and out of fights. She reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, you are General Obi-Wan Kenobi. A man whose strength, compassion, and cunning were such that my— That those who served with you trusted you and remembered you for those qualities.”

“You speak in the past tense about something that hasn’t happened yet,” Obi-Wan said.

“And you’re correcting my grammar on the verge of a war,” Leia said, amused. “You’ll be all right, Obi-Wan. You can do the job in front of you with honor and wisdom.”

“But not success,” he said, looking at her. “Don’t we lose?”

Leia shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe not anymore. Hope is all I have, and there’s a lot more of it go around now.”

With the debates over and a course decided for the Republic, Leia expected Obi-Wan to have a little more time. What she did not expect was for him to come back to his quarters halfway through the next day and pin her with a stare. “You have never been to this Temple?” he asked. “Or any Jedi Temple?”

“No,” Leia said cautiously.

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. “Just where did you live in this other time? Why did no one find you?”

Leia stood, unsure what had set Obi-Wan off like this. “It depends on who you think should have found me,” she said.

“The Jedi, of course,” Obi-Wan said, and he looked at her again with naked disbelief. “Leia, do you not know that you are incredibly strong in the Force?”

“What?” Leia laughed. “Of course I’m not.”

“You’ve never known things you shouldn’t, or gotten headaches in large crowds? No instances of impossible luck or improbable reflexes? Nothing’s ever come to you inexplicably simply because you needed it desperately?”

Leia frowned and looked away, her scalp tingling. Carefully, she pushed away the nervousness and raised a calm face to Obi-Wan. “Nothing that can’t be explained,” she said. “I used to get intense migraines after parties, or after going down into the city. The doctors said that it was probably linked with my anxiety. Once we got that under control, the headaches became very infrequent.”

“Forgive me for prying,” Obi-Wan said, finally finding a semblance of calm again, “but how did you get that anxiety under control?”

“Counseling sessions,” Leia said, not sure where he was going with this. “Meditation. Making sure I kept up healthy habits.”

“Leia, these are things that a strongly empathetic Force user can experience, if they are left untrained,” Obi-Wan said. “People’s minds—the energy of them, their emotions and surface thoughts—press in on you if you are unshielded and can quickly become overwhelming. It is possible, I suppose, that the meditation you did helped you to build up mental shields. But your shields are too strong to be merely accidental.”

“You mean,” Leia said, “the walls around my thoughts?” She had maintained them for half her lifetime. It had been described to her as an emotional control technique by her meditation teacher. Of course, they had helped her hide her true feelings in the Imperial Senate, and she had fallen back on them when she had nothing else at Darth Vader’s hands.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “They are a simple but very subtle shielding technique. I did not know that you had shields in place until I specifically went looking for them.”

Leia pulled back, glaring at him. “You went poking in my mind?”

“No,” Obi-Wan said. “Merely brushed against its boundaries. I believe you felt it, just now, because I also felt you shut me out.”

Leia shuddered, and for a moment the memory of Vader came back to her, terrifyingly real. Had he probed her mind along with everything else he had done? Everything had been so mixed up in bone-deep terror and pain that it was hard to separate out what was physical and what was something else. For a moment, she heard the amplified hiss of his breath, felt his physical presence looming over her. And then she breathed, and she was just looking up at Obi-Wan.

“If not by my shields, how did you find out that I am like you?” she asked.

“The blood test the healers took,” Obi-Wan said. “If I had known it would come back positive—if I had known that it would be so high—I would not have...”

“What did you do?” Leia said, hearing the growl in her voice.

“It is a simple test,” Obi-Wan started.

“That you do without patients’ consent?”

“That is part of a typical intake exam for those entering the Temple,” Obi-Wan said. “It is not part of the standard physical for adult visitors or staff, no, but I suggested a full work-up, and generally that includes the midichlorian count.”

Leia closed her eyes. He had violated medical ethics in a way that troubled her. She claimed to be a time traveler who had arrived just at the cusp of an intergalactic war. That he had awarded her the trust and consideration he did was a gift, she told herself, though it didn’t soothe her anger. “You haven’t been jumping at shadows around me,” she said. “So why order the test?”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said.

“He was suspicious of me,” Leia said.

“He was, and he did more than test your shields. He tried to reach into your mind to see if you were trustworthy, and he failed.” Obi-Wan held up a hand when Leia opened her mouth, outraged. “After I was done telling him how wrong that was, I suggested that it might be the effect of pain medication, but he was very insistent. And I...I wondered.”

“So I’m strong in the Force,” Leia said. “What are you planning to do with that?”

“That’s a very good question. It’s not often that we find people who are strong but untrained so late in life,” he said. “I have encountered one or two in my time who never saw the Jedi temple or joined one of the other Force traditions we recognize, but they were not happy meetings. When we brought Anakin to the Temple, he was considered shockingly old.”

“How old was he?”

“Nine.”

Leia blinked at Obi-Wan. “I am nineteen,” she said flatly. “And I’ve done just fine on my own. Perhaps nobody needs to know.”

Obi-Wan considered, his eyes troubled. “Perhaps it would have been better that way. Perhaps we still could keep it secret, but if you are to stay here…”

“What other option is there?”

“You could tell the Council how you came here,” Obi-Wan suggested.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know them,” Leia said.

“And you know me so well?”

“I can honestly say I never met you before Padmé introduced us, but my father trusted you, and that’s worth a lot.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes sparked with interest. “Your father?”

Leia had no template for a safe way to operate in this situation. If she took no risks, then she might cut off opportunities. Her heart ached to hear her father’s voice again, to see his face, even if it was much younger than she had ever known it. He might be on Coruscant now; he already held the Senate seat for Alderaan. Impulsively, she said, “Bail Organa.”

“Bail’s daughter,” Obi-Wan said, his eyebrows rising, and looked her over as if seeing her for the first time. “You are not what I would expect from a princess of Alderaan,” he said, nonplussed.

“I was raised in interesting times,” Leia said. Taking pity on him, she added, “I was adopted. I have no idea who my birth parents were. Wherever this,” she waved her hand, “Force, whatever, comes from, it’s not from Bail and Breha Organa.”

“Well. Wherever it comes from, there's something else to take into consideration before you decide not to confide in the Council. Those unhappy meetings I mentioned,” he said. “The more that you hide, the more likely they are to suspect you of being a dark side Force-user, perhaps an acolyte to someone powerful and dangerous.”

Leia frowned. Obi-Wan was young, but...they were at the beginning of the Clone Wars; her father had spoken of him as a man entrusted with much responsibility even then. “They won’t trust your judgement?”

“Some Council members believe my judgement to be...clouded, in such cases.” Obi-Wan's tone spoke of mild amusement, but there was something shuttered behind his eyes. “Anakin, you see. He is powerful like you, and many still believe it was dangerous for us to train him. It was I who finally made them agree to take him, and who oversaw his training.”

“Why dangerous? Surely it’s more dangerous to let something like this go untrained, if what you told me about my headaches is correct.” Her parents must have known what she was. Leia knew from her work with the Rebellion how dangerous the galaxy was for children strong in the Force. They must have known, and taken quiet steps to protect her.

“It’s not as simple as a skill to be learned. Those who do not train from a young age in the ways of the Jedi are at risk of being corrupted by the dark side of the Force. There are powers in the galaxy right now—”

Leia cut him off. “But it’s not inevitable.”

“No. With all my heart, I believe it is not inevitable. But not all of the Council does, and even those who do...Leia.” Obi-Wan stopped, trying to marshal his words. “Let’s just say that they have very good reason to be wary of unknown Force-users right now. Please, be open with them.”

“Not yet.” Leia shook her head. “They have no reason to believe me—honestly, Obi-Wan, I don’t know why you believe me.”

“I don’t know, either,” Obi-Wan muttered. He sat in one of the chairs at last. “All right, we won’t tell the Council yet, though it goes against all of my training. But you should decide what you’re going to do about Anakin’s suspicions. I know him, and he never drops anything.”

“You vouching for me won’t be enough?”

Obi-Wan laughed shortly. “Not without an explanation, and definitely not without telling him I investigated.”

“I’ll…talk to him,” Leia said. “If you think he’ll see me again.”

[thecleverdame]

The Woodsman - Part Five (finale)

Series Masterlist

Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Summary: A/B/O Fairy Tale - You’re a sheltered, thirty-something princess on the run from your brother, the newly crowned ‘Mad King’ of France. When you’re waylaid by marauders and left for dead in the forest, a gruff woodsman nurses you back to health.

Warnings: A/B/O smut, knotting, language, violence, assault, non-con

Word Count: 32,000

-

“Forgive me, m’lady, but it doesn’t feel right to leave you here, especially alone.” Leopold stands next to Ferdinand, looking at you with a skeptical eye. The two imposing knights have stayed for the better part of a week in an attempt to convince you to accompany them back to France. You’ve known Leopold for years, he’s not much older than you, and he was part of your father’s detail for several years up until his death. He’s concerned and you can’t blame him really, you suspect he’s only partially worried about your well being and more focused on the consequences when he returns sans the princess he was instructed to collect.

“One of us could stay behind to ensure that you’re looked after.” Ferdinand offers. “King Philip will not be happy if he finds out we’ve left you here to live in th-” He struggles to find a term for Sam’s cottage that won’t be insulting

“My brother doesn’t need to know the details of my lodging. Just tell him I am happy and content where I am and give him this.” You thrust a letter in front of you, holding it with two hands. You’ve done your best to explain your reasons for staying while purposely keeping your correspondence vague. If you were to detail that you’re in love with a dirt poor forester and still unclaimed you suspect Philip would only send a second regiment to collect you, possibly by force. The letter outlines that, while you initially fled with the hope of returning home, you’ve found yourself quite in love with a man and have made a new life for yourself in the Scottish countryside. Philip can surmise what he likes from the rest. “Have a safe journey back and bring my family all my love.”

They look to each other before finally taking their leave. You watch as the final link to your old life fades into the distance and the two forms disappear over the horizon.

--

The wait for Sam to return feels like a lifetime. You fill the days completing the day to day tasks that come easier the more you do them. You feed the chickens and milk the cow, in addition to what seems like a hundred other chores that Sam does on a daily basis. It's unbelievable how hard he works, your muscles ache after just one day of hauling water and feed.

Sam is gone longer than you expected. The days turn into a week and you find that you miss him in a very physical sense. You’re heart aches at the thought of his confession of love. If someone would have told you a year prior that you’d be in love with a woodsman you would have dismissed the idea without a second thought. But things change, and Sam’s life doesn’t feel like that of a peasant, or at least what you previously imagined. This existence doesn’t seem lacking in any way. If anything it’s the opposite, his home is rich with love and affection and hard work - the things that truly matter in this real world.

You’re filling the water bucket at the edge of the stream when you feel it. It's a faint, long forgotten twitch from where deep inside, pulling just inside your belly button. It’s just one lone pain and then it’s gone and you don’t think much of it.

That is until it returns.

You’re tucked into bed, just on the edge of sleep when the dull ache springs to life. At first, you convince yourself it’s from the manual labor. You’re not used to hauling water and it’s only natural for you to be sore. But an hour later when a familiar throb beats to life between your legs you know beyond a shadow of a doubt what’s happening.

You’re in heat.

---

Sam’s still a hundred paces from the cottage when he smells you. It’s a thick, heady scent hanging in the air that makes his balls tight. There’s no question it’s your scent and that you’re in heat. Whatever kept your Omega at bay must have resolved itself because he can practically taste your pussy from the barn.

When he opens the cottage door he’s met with a rush of your delicious aroma accompanied by the faint sound of you moaning softly. The only light is a warm glow coming from the bed-loft. He steps up two rungs of the ladder before he’s met with the sight of you writhing on your back, nude on the soft fur. The scene before him is sure to be the true test of his self-control, because he’s never seen anything as enticing as the sight of you naked and the smell of your body calling to his.

You’re wet, thighs glistening in the shallow light as your slender legs squirm uncontrollably. One thing is clear, you’re in agony. He’s not sure how long you’ve been like this, but enough time has passed that you long ago gave up on the idea of self-pleasure and are now the throws of spine-curling pain.

“Sam,” you says his name without opening your eyes. You don’t need to see him to sense his presence; you can smell him, feel him right down to your bones. You feel confused, unsure if he’s really there or this is just a hallucination, a product of your unabated heat.

“I’m here,” he rumbles, climbing on all fours onto the bed.

“Alpha,” you breathe, reaching out to bring him down to you. There’s nothing like the sound of that word coming out of your mouth with such desperation. Sam allows you to pull him in, his mouth covering your own, his lips pressing hard into yours as your tongue curls past his lips and into his mouth. He tastes salty and wonderful as you gasp against him, balling the material of his shirt into your small fists. “This hurts.”

“I know,” he hushes, stroking hair away from your sodden forehead. “I’m here now.”

Sam grabs your hands, pulling them above your head and holding them taught. You whine into his mouth, rolling your hips again as the slick of your wet pussy rubs against his trousers. His cock is painfully hard and he ruts forward, relieving the pressure but only for a moment.

Sam wants nothing more than to turn you over and fuck you until you come with his thick knot inside your cunt and his teeth in your neck. If the two you had the opportunity to clarify what you want from him, he wouldn’t hesitate. But this woman under him, the woman urgently humping up into his crotch as if her life depends on it, isn’t capable of giving him what he wants.

He won’t claim you, not tonight anyway.

“I need you,” you mumble against his lips, tugging on your arms when they’re pinned above you. “Please Sam, oh please.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Sam groans, between kisses, your mouth and body getting more frantic by the second. He pulls away and the cry you let out hits him right in the stomach. “Don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel better.”

He whips his shirt over his head, then shimmies out of his trousers so that he’s just as naked as you are. On his knees, he fists his bobbing cock before crawling back over you. He settles between your thighs, letting you take the heavy weight of his body. You moan, arching up into him, pressing your chest into his, the feeling of his skin on yours sends unbelievable pleasure through both of you.

“Take me,” you beg, clawing at his back. Your hips stutter upward, begging to meet his as your pussy slides along his cock until the swollen head of his dick catches between your folds.

“Shhh,” he hushes, pulling your arms away from his shoulder before sliding downward. Your fingers curl into his hair, tugging on his scalp and he sucks one of your hard nipples into his mouth. The noise you make is otherworldly and he reaches down between your legs as his thumbs find your clit. You’re already wet, slick on your thighs and the fur beneath you, so the pad of his finger easily slides back and forth across the bundle of nerves.

“Sam,” you hiss, head thrashing to the side as his touch intensifies.

His cock is trapped, pressed between the hard muscle of his stomach and your thigh, grinding downward as he leaks arousal. If he had any less restraint he’d fuck his pups into your belly before you had the chance to blink.

His mouth trails down your abdomen with a scrap of his teeth as you roll your hips upward, desperate for something more and he gives it to you by sealing his mouth over your clit with a wet, desperate sound. You buck upward, crying out as one hand tugs on his hair and the other reaches out, clutching his discarded shirt.

You taste salty on his tongue, slick and delicious just as he imagined you would. With every flick of his tongue under the hood of your clit, you shove yourself toward him, groaning and twisting his hair until his scalp burns.

You come quickly the first time, crying out to him and legs stiffening but Sam doesn’t stop. His touch just moves, sliding over the lips of your pussy, before shoving his tongue into your drenched hole. Your thighs lock around his head and he just grunts in response, pressing his whole face into your cunt, his nose just under your over sensitive clit. You thrash when he moves his head side to side, growling and fucking you with his tongue while smothered between your legs.

He couldn’t hold you still if he wanted to at this point, you’re shoving your entire body toward his mouth, chanting Alpha, Alpha, as if your repetition of the words ensures he won’t stop.

With a mouthful of your snatch, he strokes his cock with one and swipes his finger through the wetness of your folds. His reach is long enough to shove his sullied fingers into your mouth, pressing two over your tongue as you suck, cheeks hollowing when you taste yourself.

You come again with his fingers pressed into the back of your tongue, wiggling toward the back of your throat as you clench and tug at the fingers he’s now shoved inside your cunt, and his tongue still lapping without pause over your little bud.

It’s too much. It’s been years since anyone made you feel anything close to this amount of pleasure. Reaching your peak, again and again, leaves you lifeless and spent, as you shake from the force of your climax. Clenching your thighs together you pull at his shoulders, making it clear that you can’t take any more of his mouth or his fingers, at least not tonight. You’re raw and wet and glowing from efforts as he gets to his knees.

Fisting his cock he strokes himself faster and faster, bottom lip caught under white teeth. You watch as he comes shooting over your belly and breasts until you’re covered in his warm seed and he’s panting with his cock in his hand.

Seemingly satisfied he lays down beside you, pulling you to him. He seems unphased by your slick skin, the wetness of his seed painting his chest as you lay over his, nuzzling, tired and happy, into the crook of his neck.

“I feel I could sleep for a week.” You sigh, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his arms cradling you to him. “It felt like forever, waiting for you to return. I could not find peaceful rest without you here.”

“I am here now.” He sighs a wonderful content sound that relaxes every inch of your body against his. “And I have no plans to leave you again any time soon.”

You fall asleep with the muted sound of Sam’s heart thumping strong and constant below your cheek.

--

You wake up before the sun has crested over the horizon. There’s a soft glow from the fire below and a twinge between your legs. While you were sated enough to fall asleep, you suspect it was more exhaustion than satisfaction that allowed you to rest. It’s been four years since your last cycle and impossible to know what the future will hold but right now you’re still in heat, its ebb, and flow controlling every inch of your body.

Rolling your neck you work out a few kinks before turning to the large body sleeping sound beside you. Sam’s on his back, one hand holding the blanket at his waist. You watch his naked chest rise and fall slowly, admiring his body, free of any audience. His arms are strong and thick and you shudder as you remember what they felt like holding you down as you came on his mouth the night before.

In an effort to reward him for his generous efforts between your legs, you reach over, gently pulling the blanket away from his torso. His cock is warm and soft, laying against his thigh and you delight in the thought of being the one to bring it to life. You check to ensure he’s still sleeping inch your way down this until you’re on your side with his manhood inches from your face.

If there’s one thing you’re both good at and well versed in, it’s this. You’re a skilled lover and while you might be a bit out of practice, it doesn’t stop you from polishing your talents.

Urged on by the growing ache between your legs you lean in, nestling your nose into the baby soft skin of his balls and press a kiss to his thigh. He makes a small sound, but when you check his eyes remain closed. With one hand you cup his sack and use the other to grasps his cock and bring it to your mouth. You suck him softly, just enough to get the reaction you’re looking for. He’s not yet awake but his manhood stiffens with each sweep of your tongue under the head of his cock until he’s thick and erect like the night before.

You move onto your hands and knees, bending down to bob on his length as your fingers stroke him, your tongue lapping at the little v under the head of his cock. It’s when you take him fully into your mouth, letting him tap the back of your throat that Sam groans. There’s a hand in your hair, fingers tugging as he grunts louder this time and you swallow him whole, taking him into your throat until your eyes water.

You come off him with a wet smack, wiping spit from your lips as you look up only to find him staring down at you. His eyes narrow, darting from your mouth down to his shiny cock standing at attention.

“Good morning.” You grin, moving back to take him into your mouth. He stops you, one hand in your hair, the other cupping your cheek.

“You don’t have to do that.” His tone is soft and sweet. He truly is full of surprises.

“Are you not enjoying it?” You inquire, sliding your thumb under the sensitive head of his prick.

“I am.” He grunts. “But I don’t want you to feel that I expect anything from you-”

“Samuel,” you cut him off. “Stop talking. I want to taste you.”

He chuckles, his laughs stopping short as you take him yet again. “As you wish…”

You suck and stroke him with your tongue and mouth, enjoying the strained noises he makes in return. But your mouth soon proves to be too much and he reaches down, grabbing your arms and pulling you off his cock.

“You’ll finish me too soon like that and I have no intention of being done.” He speaks casually as he hauls you up his body, clearly enjoying his view as you straddle his waist.

“I hope you intend to finish what you started last night.” You roll your hips, sliding downward until your sex finds his cock.

“You look disappointed.” He observes, his frown dissolves as his mouth falls open in pleasure.

“I am,” you whisper, rubbing your cunt over his cock, letting him slide between your wet folds, base to tip before rocking back again. “Why didn’t you claim me? You could have easily. You didn’t even fuck me.”

You whisper the word fuck, bold enough to say it to him but still unsure because of how unnatural it sounds.

A smile pulls at the corner of his lips, he could get used to hearing such vulgar profanity out of your sweet mouth. Sam lays back, enjoying the view of you sitting on him. He reaches forward, spreading a hand over your stomach and rubbing his thumb over your clit. You groan as he works in small circles, your head tipping to the side as you bite your lower lip. As a reward, you slide along his prick again.

“Don’t be upset with me.” Sam places his free hand at your hip. “I could have asked you to roll in mud and hop on one leg for me last night. You would have done it. You were so desperate for relief you would have fucked anything that crawled between your legs. I didn’t want you like that. Not the first time. I want you like this.”

“Good answer,” you lean down to kiss him, sliding your tongue along his lower lip before sealing your mouth to his.

“But this morning you seem to be of sound mind and body. I have no qualms about taking advantage of you now.” He grins, his eyes sweeping across your breasts and down further as you slide over his cock.

“I won’t protest.”

“I’ll make you mine, Princess. If it’s what you want?” It’s the first time he’s ever used the moniker with affection. Pure joy shoots from your heart to your head and you laugh from the anticipation.

“I want it, more than anything.”

“Say it, tell me.” He insists.

“I want to be yours.” You confess feeling heat rising to your cheeks.

“If I were to put my pups in your belly and watch you grow with my child, would you want that as well?” His words make you clench, empty cunt tightening at the thought of bearing his children.

“Yes but…” you hesitate, hips coming to stop. “I’m not as young as I once was… and I did try before.”

“You’re plenty young.” Sam spreads a hand across your stomach, “You’ll give me a child. I’ll make sure of it.”

Reaching behind you he slides both hands under your buttocks and lifts you with a flex of his biceps. You reach between your bodies, grasping his cock, just enough to catch the head between your lips and then he lets go and you sink onto his length until your clit of flush with his pubic hair. He’s big and thick, certainly larger than any man you’ve been with and it’s a glorious stretch that forces you to concentrate as he nudges deep inside.

Sam makes a noise, the likes of which you’ve never heard before, a low growl of approval that spurs you into action. Using your thighs you lift yourself up, nearly letting him slip out before sinking back down. Sam moans, both hands clasp your hips to make sure you don’t stop moving.

“Have you ever taken an Alpha knot before?” He asks. The very thought of him knotting you makes you tighten around his prick.

“No,” you pant, shaking your head adamantly. You can only imagine what it feel like when he claims you, stretched beyond reason.

“My blushing virgin,” he chuckles, his smile fading into lust when you rock your hips with more fervor, riding him at a pace just fast enough to quell the fire in your belly.

Sam sits up with you in his lap, holding you close, his chest pressing against your breasts as your nipples drag across his sparse chest hair. His cock feels hard and thick as you move with him inside you, his lips sucking at the skin of your shoulder. Moving to peck at your breasts, his teeth scrap softly along the swell of your bosom while cupping one of your breasts in his hand. His lips are still on your skin as he looks up to you, speaking softly. “Shall I make you my wife as well?”

Your heart nearly stops at his suggestion and you kiss him before responding, tangling your fingers into his hair, using the force of your grip to bring his mouth to yours. “I should like nothing more.”

He kisses you deep and strong, his tongue darting past your lips and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close. When he pulls away from you he cups his hands under your buttocks once again and lifts you off his cock in a single, swift motion. You lay back, spreading your legs, but he taps at your side, leaning forward to kiss your forehead before giving further instruction.

“Roll over.” His voice is soft and but the words seem powerful, sending a pang of excitement through your entire body. You look at him, blinking and a bit overwhelmed before rolling onto your belly. His finger curls around your hips, pulling your backside into the air. “On and your hands and knees.”

You assume the position feeling rather prone, but any flicker of hesitation leaves when you feel him settle between your calves. The blunt head of his prick presses between the folds of your sex. Sam surges into you from behind until his hips are pressed into your backside and the whole world stops for a moment. He stays flush inside as you try to stifle the string of moaning babble that falls from your mouth. He’s deeper like this, deep and thick inside where you’re tight and wet. With a satisfied grunt, he pulls back and shoves forward, thrusting with a long powerful stroke that you make you see stars.

“Is this too much?” Sam’s fingers trail across your back, over the curve of your buttocks.

“No,” you sputter, reaching behind you, trying to anchor yourself to something. “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t say anything, just pumps his hips forward, again and again, fucking with the entire length of his hard cock. After the first few minutes, your body adjusts and you’re able to get your wits about you, moving with him, rocking steady with his increasing rhythm. The pleasure from him being inside you is more than you thought was possible, he’s thick and stiff moving into you but it’s more than just that. You love him completely and the idea that a man who you care this deeply for can also make you feel this pleasured feels too good to be true.

Sam’s grunts and groans are increasing in volume, as is the sound of his skin smacking against your backside. He doesn’t have to tell you what’s happening because you can feel his knot swelling until he has to really work to get it inside you with a final thrust that lodges him securely inside. It doesn’t exactly hurt but it’s uncomfortable, an expanding pressure stretching the walls of your cunt to the absolute limit. He’s spurting hot and sticky, offering a new grunt with each of pulse of his cock as he fills you with his seed until it’s leaking from around where your bodies are joined and coating your thighs.

It’s when he curls over your back and his knot tugs inside your clutching pussy that you come. His chest presses against your shoulders as your orgasms explodes, tearing through your body as you sob with pleasure, writhing under the weight of him. Still in the throws of ecstasy, you feel his teeth at the bend of your neck, clamping down and then sinking deeper as he tears into the tender flesh.

This part does hurt. You squeal, lurching forward, the pain only slightly tempered by pleasure, but not enough to overshadow the sharp burn of his teeth breaking the skin and blood pouring from the wound as his mouth seals over it. Collapsing onto your stomach, Sam’s weight falls onto you, pinning you under him.

“Sam,” you howl, flailing beneath him as he holds you in place, his tongue lapping over the broken flesh. You don’t want the tears to fall. You want to be strong and find a way to appreciate this moment because he’s just claimed you, made you his with this bite -  but you weren’t prepared for the agony of it and can't hold back a sob.

‘Don’t cry my love.” He nuzzles into the side of your face, both arms framing your shoulders. “ I know it hurts but it’s only this one time and it’s done now.”

“I’m sorry,” you sputter, choking back tears.

“Don’t think about the pain.” He kisses your shoulder, then your neck, his mouth reaching its final destination at the shell of your ear. One hand slides under your belly, finger brushing over your clit, then down to where his cock is firmly tucked inside your body. “Concentrate on how you feel here.”

You close your eyes, focusing on his touch as he glides over your little bundle of nerves, coaxing out enough pleasure to help you momentarily forget about his bite.

“You can come one more time for me?” He inquires, voice low and even.

“I think so.” Shuttering, you rock slowly under him, his cock tugging inside your cunt as you undulate to the rhythm of his hand. It doesn’t take long, you reach your peak with Sam inside and around you, every inch of your being connected to his as you gasp and writhe.

Sam pulls you with him onto his side, careful of his knot locked inside you. He’s able to pull out after a few minutes and instead of falling back to sleep you fight exhaustion and turn in his arms to face him.

The two of you lie in silence for what feels like a lifetime, staring at each other in a lovesick haze. His hands are everywhere, trailing up your back and cupping your face. You kiss him soft and slow, enjoying this moment when everything is new and seemingly perfect.

How different your life will be from here. What a strange series of events led you to this moment… and neither of you would change a thing because fate’s given you both a second chance at love and you’re ready to embrace it.

--

"Does it still hurt?" Sam inquires, his hand swinging out to grab yours as you walk side by side. The afternoon is warm and you’re happy to be out of bed for the first time in two days. Sam kept you well satisfied until your heat broke and even then took more pleasure for himself, much to your encouragement.

"Your bite?" You confirm his question, raising a hand to your neck as you turn to look up at him. "A bit I suppose, but it's not altogether unpleasant. It's a nice reminder."

A familiar red flushes your cheeks, you can't stop blushing as your mind replays the events of the previous two days. It's amazing how confident you feel naked in his bed and what a contrast to the embarrassment you feel as he looks at you now.

“You’re blushing, Princess.” Sam chides, pulling you to him where you find yourself tucked under his arm.

“Am not,” you refute softly, leaning into him, arms wrapping around his waist.

“So, tell me, where do we go from here? Do you plan on learning to cook and clean as a wife should?” You don’t even have to look at him to know he’s laughing, you can feel this body shaking in amusement.

“Be careful of your words. I might just make another stew that you’ll be obligated to eat.”

“I take it back.” He chuckles, tightening his grip around your shoulders. “I want you to know that I’ll always take care of you, protect you. Always.”

“Well,” you look up at him, placing a hand on his chest. “I promise to love and take care of you. Always.”

“What a good match.” He utters, leaning down to kiss you.

And this is truly where your story begins. The first moments of a lifelong love that’s worthy of a fairy tale.

-

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[cubanmalefootlover]

Ejaculatus ad Infinitum

(Inspired in a picture I found here on Tumblr, hope you like it)

Tom never thought how his luck would change when he said good bye to his lovely wife that early morning. He was a prolific family man; his first wife died young and left seven children under his care. Few years later he married again and got six kids more. Tom owned a big physique, inheritance from his brawny Irish uncles. His rugged face was crowned by abundant hair, big deep eyes and beard. He was very hardworking and honest, he earned his life working the land, as constructor and others hard jobs. But always honourably despite he was just a simple plebeian by birth. Feed thirteen kids wasn’t an easy task for a poor British peasant in 660 A.d.

Dark forces hovered over the kingdom; covetous men fought for power. It was a normal morning like any other; today Tom had got a job chopping wood. Before the sun rise, he dressed with his usual garment: hat, shirt, jacket, pants, boots and left with a hope in his good heart.  

Regardless of his wife’s warning, Tom used to go without company. The forest was lonely, quiet and sometimes haunting breezes prowled around. It was deliciously peaceful and a sweet aroma wafted in the benign air. Particularly enthralled by the warm breeze, the man walked beyond than he’d ever gone before. A happy smile lit his face and started his job full of energy.  

It’s heard strange noises. He scanned all around, but there was any soul except him. “Some animal”, he grabbed his axe watchfully for a while.    

“You ought not to come alone in the forest, woodcutter”, hissed a charming voice.

He thought to himself he was just tired and missed his wife, so he sipped water from a nearby spring and lay on the lush mattress of grass. A nice drowsiness made him dropped off into a blissful sleep. Suddenly, four heavy hands seized him by his shoulders. He saw two high figures at his sides wearing dark robes and hood. Being strong and big enough, Tom fought wildly to get free from those iron grips, but his captors were tougher and dragged him by the wood as if he were a sack of straw. He screamed for help, prayed, begged and kept struggling with all his might. His captors put a cloth over his head and everything went black around, making him sink into helplessness while he was forcefully carried along a bushy ground first and then a stoned path toward somewhere.  

After leading him through several halls, stairs and doors, they finally stopped behind a door and forced him to lie down on a table. He still had the cloth covering his head, so he couldn’t get a clue about where he was. The hood was pulled out of his head and his eyes collided with a creepy room, absolutely unfamiliar, intimidating.

-Welcome to my castle, woodcutter –said that voice heard in the wood.

He fixated his eyes in a woman wearing dark clothes, with a piercing look, strange tattoos and a necklace with odd objects.  

-Who are you? –he asked.  

-You don’t need to know who I am –she answered.

-Please, I…I have thirteen children to feed… -he pleaded.

-I also have an offspring to feed, woodcutter –said the woman.

The two captors stayed at both sides of the table holding him by his shoulders. As she waved her hands, a black smoke crawled by the floor and snatched his arms and legs. Again Tom struggled to get him free without success. In no time he found himself lying on his back with that eerie smoke grabbing his elbows, wrists, knees and ankles.

-Take his shoes off –the woman commanded.

The dark-robed men immediately obeyed by tugging at the enormous shoes of the captive, yanking them off to expose a pair of sweaty bare feet. Tom twitched his toes and scrunched his high-arched soles, discomfited by their nakedness. The lady stared at the man’s feet with approval in spite of a pungent smell filled the room as soon as they got out of their damp enclosure. In contrast with his slightly suntanned skin, Tom’s feet were pallid white since they were encased in shoes most of the time and they were truly huge with 15 inches long from heel to toes. The toes were long, thick and curved a bit with strong knuckles and tufts of hair on them as well as on the insteps. The toenails were somewhat dirty and needed a trim. The heels and ball of his feet were meaty and reddish in contrast with the pale arches. He had calluses on the soles of his feet from years of hard work which made them look even more masculine; although, unlike beaten and hardened laborer’s feet, his were soft from sweating too much inside his boots the whole time.

Poor Tom was sure he was going to be tortured for something he couldn’t comprehend yet.  

-Please, please have mercy! I took no part in any rebellion against Their Majesties! Me and my family are absolutely loyal! I pay all my taxes! I haven’t committed any crime…! I'm a quiet family father…!!!

The woman came to the end of the table and rested his hands on the captive’s insteps as breathed in deeply the intense acrid stench wafting in the air. Rich and poor men had something in common: after a few days without being washed, their feet release a distinctive reek. And she could tell from just the smell of Tom’s feet how long they had been inside shoes and when was the last time they were bathed. Tom noticed how long the nails of this woman were. She rested his long fingernails over Tom’s rugged heels, just below the arches and gently began to scratch the tips up and down.

-He-hehehee-hehe-hihaha…

-I’m testing your flesh first –said the woman, again pleased with what she saw-. You’re quite responsive. Let’s see a little faster…

Her fingernails sped up bit a bit the sole-scratching. Tom was feeling now uncomfortable and squirmed in the table. He clenched his jaws as curled his toes. Big drops of sweat formed on his forehead and chest. He prayed to God, but anything could avert his strength crashed miserably into desperation. He finally broke down…  

-AAAHAHAHAHA…AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!! OWWOHOHOHOHO STOP STOP PLEASE NO- NOOHOHOHAHAHAHAHA HA!!!! PLEASE IT TICKLES…IT TICKLES… IT TIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLES TOOOHAHAHUHUW MUUCHH GAHAHADS!!  PLEASE NO… PLEEHEHEHEHZZ NOHOHOHOHOO…I CAHAHAHAHANNT!!!!

Tom was in hysterics. His tough feet were ticklish as hell! The magic knots prevented all movement except his toes to wiggle, which they did frantically. But nothing relieved the torment of his exposed soles which were the main target of this evil woman.

-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!!! STOHOHOPHAHAHAHAHAWW!!!! BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!! IHIHAHIAHIAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAWUHUHUAAAAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!!!

When he was a kid, his armpits and ribs were frequently attacked during games. Actually, he hadn’t memories of having his feet tickled. Worst to him, because it had been the opportunity to know that they were his hot spot! Now he could do nothing to stop his predicament or escape. Held in place and helplessly barefoot, his huge soles were obliged to suffer the most terrible and relentless assault. His laughter poured out of him in loud gusts, constant, frenzied guffaws drawn from his mouth.

-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! OHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IAAHAHAHAHAHAIHIHIHIHIHIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! NOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!!! NOHOHOHOHOHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!! STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHA HAHIIHIHAHAHAAA!!!!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH EHEHEHEEEEEZZZZHH!!!!

The feelings of those scratching nails working all over his sweaty soles were the most awful experience he’d undergone in his life. Tom thrashed his head from side to side, his body convulsed pitifully under these unforgiving smoke-bonds as the woman continued taking full advantage of his weakness. She danced, raked and scraped her long nails all over the soles of his feet, making his mouth flood with dramatic roars of laughter that prevented him from thinking clearly, much less speaking intelligibly, gasping and shrieking like a man possessed.

-UWUUHUHEHEHOHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAWWW!!!!! BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! MEEEHEHEHEHEHRCYHYHHIHI PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHZZZZZZE!!!! AIWIHIHIHIHIHIL GIVFYAAHAHA ANEHEHEHHEHEEHETHIINHGHGHGG HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA YHUHUHUHUHUHUHU WANT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!

The woman continued tickling Tom’s bare feet until his laughter became deep shriller. He’s sweating profusely and soon his robust body got drenched and glistened. She again and again travelled her wicked nails the whole map of those rugged soles when she suddenly changed tactic and immerse herself in darting her nails in-between his toes: Tom got totally beyond control. She looked disappointed, but kept her task tenaciously. Sometime later she started to see what she was waiting for: a bulge was rising under his pants to become a prominent tent.

She gave him a rest.

The woman again waved her hands and the rest of Tom’s clothes gone. When he realized he was buck naked, he blushed from embarrassment; despite her cruelty, he was a decent man nude in front of a woman. Yet his eyes grew wide open like saucers when he saw his penis became a solid rod pointing to the roof.  

-Why’re… you doing… this to me…? –he gasped with face soaked in tears and sweat. In fact, his strapping frame spread-eagled with his member standing up like the highest tree protruding from the wood was a wonderful sight to behold.

-Don’t be scared, woodcutter –said the woman-. All of you men suffer from this condition. There’s a secret link between your feet and your penis, so that when your soles are stimulated, your organ reacts sooner or later, even against your will… That’s what I need because I can’t touch your penis, but you must give me what I want.

-What is what you want, woman?! Please tell me and I’ll give you straight away! I’ll give you…I’ll give you whatever you want… just stop scratching my feet!! I can’t take more of this…!  

-I need something you naturally have in your body to feed my children –said the woman―. It’s not your blood; it’s not your flesh. It’s something that only you, son of Adam, have as an uninterrupted source and I must get it without touching your tackle, woodcutter.  

He gave her back his most confused look.  

-That you use to make children for the king –sentence the woman-, I will use it to create an army of monsters against the king. The spell requires the seed of a stud, just like you, father of thirteen kids.

Tom got discombobulated. He saw two diabolic claws with long nails moving toward his bare feet.

-Also demons feed with the juices of one elected Adam’s son. You, prolific woodcutter, have been chosen to accomplish this task. So, you will be subjected to this for all eternity. I condemn you to ejaculatus ad infinitum. From now on you won’t sleep. You won’t eat. You’ll never get old. You’ll stay strong and young. And never get tired!!

Tom was too busy processing the real sense of what he was told when those monsters claws started assaulting his soles. Agonic manly laughter filled the dungeon once again.

-NO-NO-NO MORE TICKLINONONOUGHH!! AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…!!!!

Those sharp claws didn’t hurt his skin, though, their evil touch was enough torturing to make him go crazy, writhing like mad, sputtering useless pleas to stop. Tom could feel the horniness boiling inside him, as well as his semen was churning within his swollen balls, ready to be shot. The claws stroked faster, focusing in certain spots of the man’s soles; one minute, two, three and… he shot and impressive load. The claws slowed their pace to let him recover himself while moaned and shuddered. The happy woman collected every drop from his stomach and chest.

After having ejaculated, his body was more responsive to the physical contact, which meant his feet were now twice more ticklish. His cock tilted to one side and the other, screaming for a real attention. Nonetheless, the woman never touched it to make the spell work successfully.  

Sometime later the claws sped up the scratching. His deep, manic guffaws shattered the silence of the dungeon, echoing round the stoned walls while those diabolic claws continued raking up and down his massive soles at once, periodically brushing the gaps between the toes.

After a few minutes, Tom came a second time and the claws again lighten the tickling. He was sure that he was going to die, but strangely, when they relented the tickling pace and his breath returned to normal, he was again fully alert and energetic as usual.

Before nightfall, the woman announced:

-Lord has made a banquet. Your laughter echoed through all the walls of the castle and we don’t want the guests get worry.

The thick, dark smoke crawled over Tom and started mummifying his big body from his head down, leaving a hole around his crotch where his rampant cock and jiggling balls sprouted up luxuriantly amid lush pubic hair. At the other end his bare huge feet remained exposed and at the claws’ mercy. The smoke also wrapped around his mouth. Tom screamed a muffled NO, until all that could be heard from him was:

-MMMMFFFH!!! MHMHMHMHPHMMHPH!!! MHMPHMMFMFMFMMM…!!!!!!!!

Over and over, Tom was tickled to death, except death never came. He was completely out of himself. He had become a mass of flesh, bones and nerves; no mind, no soul, no memories. Just these excruciating streams of ticklish madness running through his convulsing frame. This fire in his lungs spewed by his open-wide throat in form of uncontrollable laughter. And the urge of ejaculating was permanent. The claws never stopped their hellish task nor for a second… tickling his soles… tickling his soles… tickling his soles undyingly. The cocoon of his body jolted and squirmed riotously like a human earthquake.

Meanwhile the riches were eating and praising the king, not knowing their enemy was their host. Outside in the wood, the friends of Tom and his lovely wife were in search of him, but the only found on the ground were his malodorous shoes.  

Inside the dungeon of Lord’s castle, the good Tom ejaculated and ejaculated amidst gusts of inhuman laughter.  

[thetourguidebarbie]

Written for @itsnotacrimetoloveyou and @arrenemris , inspired by this incorrect klaroline quote. I hope you enjoy!

Klaus watched Caroline out of the corner of his eye as she talked animatedly with the Bennett witch (now vampire) about a television show that they were both watching. They were having brunch at an exclusive New York restaurant that Caroline liked, and Klaus was content to people watch and pretend not to notice Caroline sneaking bites of his omelette as he drank his coffee.

It was their first time in the United States as a couple, though they’d visited various cities during the short time that Caroline had spent with him every decade or so testing the waters. He had been content to wait for her to make up her mind, knowing it was only a matter of time, and when she finally showed up at his door tentatively suggesting they ‘try’ with a sunny smile that would have hid her insecurities if he hadn’t known her so well, he’d done his best to make her want to stay.

They were six months in and it was working out well so far. He didn’t think he’d been happier for as long as he could remember.

He watched her tongue dart over her lips before she took another sip of her mimosa, giving him a bright smile when she saw him looking and grabbing his hand under the table, squeezing it gently. “Sorry, I know we’re kind of going on about this.”

“Caroline, you could read the phone book and it would entrance me,” Bonnie drawled in an admittedly impressive imitation of his accent, and Caroline laughed, taking another sip of her mimosa.

“It’s okay. It goes both ways.”

“You do like the accent,” Klaus drawled, and Caroline nodded solemnly.

“I do.”

“I’m going to run to the restroom before this gets mushy,” Bonnie announced, setting down her napkin. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, Bon! Anyway, we should talk about what we’re going to--”

“Caroline!” a smooth voice interrupted from behind them, and he felt Caroline stiffen beside him, turning around to face the stranger. Klaus followed her line of vision to see a man just a bit taller than him but with a stockier build looking at Caroline with a warmth that Klaus didn’t like being directed at her by anyone but him.

“Hi Brian,” Caroline said, her voice a bit higher than usual, and she glanced at Klaus almost nervously, moving a bit closer to him. Was she scared? Did she feel threatened?

“How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

There was something awkward in the way she was sitting, the way she was holding herself, and she nodded along with whatever Brian was saying before tangling her fingers with Klaus’s more firmly and nodding to him.

“This is Klaus. My... Klaus.”

Brian’s eyebrows flew up. “Your Klaus?”

Caroline’s eyes widened. “Not like that! I mean...” she glanced at him as he tried to mask the hurt from her words, and she looked a bit flustered. “I mean, yes like that, but not like that. He’s my boyfriend.”

He would have grimaced at the word if Caroline didn’t look so shaken and nervous. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she said, giving him an affectionate look that he’d come to treasure as his. “I’m good. Brian and I were--”

“We were together at one point,” Brian interrupted, sending Caroline an understanding look. “I didn’t expect to run into you so I thought I’d say hello. I’m happy you’re doing well.”

Caroline gave him a smile that seemed nostalgic more than anything else, and Klaus felt his heart lighten when he realized that she didn’t have feelings for whoever this man was. She’d most likely just been nervous about his reaction.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Caroline turning to look at him and starting to talk. “That wasn’t what it looked like, I promise. I have like, zero feelings for him, okay? I was just surprised.”

He brushed off her reassurances, more concerned about how spooked she seemed to be. “Are you all right?” he asked hesitantly, searching her face for any kind of discomfort. “Did he hurt you?”

“No!” she said quickly, taking a breath as though she were about to say something else but seemed to think better of it. “It’s nothing like that.”

He studied her expression, trying to detect any hint of discomfort, but she didn’t elaborate, just spearing one of his breakfast potatoes on her fork and sticking it in her mouth, laying her head on his shoulder briefly as though trying to reassure him.

“We should pay and leave when Bon gets back. We want to go shopping.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, absently waving the waiter over to ask for the check, still mulling over Caroline’s reaction to this Brian fellow. Bonnie returned just moments later, and they were soon off to wander around downtown.

Caroline had been armed with a credit card linked to his accounts the moment she’d pursed her lips at the price tag of a dress in Milan, clearly doing some sort of mental calculation, and had proceeded to spend what an average person would have considered to be an obscene amount of money on clothes.

He didn’t mind, pleased that she was taking the opportunity to stock the closets at all of his properties with weather-appropriate attire, even the ones she had yet to set foot in. She was pointedly marking her place in his life and home, and he enjoyed her going out of her way to stake her claim. They walked out of a high end department store a few hours later, both women laden with shopping bags.

“I have to head back to my place,” Bonnie said apologetically as they approached where their SUV was parked, officers compelled to leave them alone if they ever approached to give tickets. “Enzo’s flight will comr in an hour, so I need to get this stuff put away before I pick him up. We’re still on for tonight though, right?”

“Of course!” Caroline said, pulling her friend into a hug that was slightly awkward due to the abundance of shopping bags. “I’m sure Klaus can entertain himself for a few hours.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Enzo, Bon and I go out to this bar whenever I’m in town,” Caroline said, squeezing his hand. “You can come if you want, but I don’t think it’s your thing.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow and she grinned. “Karaoke.”

He tried his best not to show his distaste and realized that he probably failed when she couldn’t restrain a snort of laughter. “I’m sure I have work to catch up on,” he said, knowing disdain was creeping into his tone but not trying to push it down.

“I’m sure,” she said, exchanging an amused look with Bonnie.

“I should flag down a cab—“

“Josh will see you home, Bonnie,” Klaus interrupted, the witch’s first name still feeling a bit odd falling off of his tongue. “Caroline, let’s give your bags to him as well. He can put them away at the penthouse while I steal you away for an early dinner.”

He realized that his words might have come off as a bit more commanding than he’d meant when Bonnie’s spine straightened, her lips pursed. “Do you usually order her around like that?”

“Only when I’m naked,” Caroline said without missing a beat. Bonnie’s groan was luckily louder than Klaus’s embarrassingly audible swallow, his head turning to look at Caroline, who seemed a bit sadistically pleased with her friend’s reaction, though a light flush creeped up her cheeks when she turned and caught his eye.

He didn’t quite dare to hope that she was serious, but he couldn’t help but let his tongue dart over his lips at the image her words had pulled up.

He’d been doing his best to give Caroline time to adjust to their new relationship. Though a century wasn’t exactly young, she’d seemed a bit hesitant to be upfront about what she might want to experiment with, and he suspected that she was intimidated by his age and her perception of his experience.

He’d kept an eye out for little tells as he became reacquainted with the pretty sounds she made when he touched her and the flush of her cheeks when he spoke, looking for hints as to what he might be able to coax her into trying first. She’d said once off-handedly that his possessiveness was hot in bed and she liked dirty talk but she’d really prefer that no one died because they looked in her direction. He’d remembered that, stored it away for future use, and it had only fueled his desire to tempt her into fulfilling some of his more salacious desires.

He’d had so many fantasies of things they could try over the years. He longed to tie her up and tease her until she begged, had more than a few elaborate fantasies involving her mercilessly baiting him followed by him bending her over the desk in his study and spanking her until she was dripping wet and gasping.

He kept his eyes on her as they walked downtown to one of her favorite restaurants, and though their conversation bounced around different topics easily, he could tell that she was trying to talk herself into saying something specific.

“All right, sweetheart?” he asked during a lull in their conversation as they waited for a stoplight to cross the street.

She bit her lip, glancing at him through her eyelashes before looking away and taking a deep breath. “Can we maybe go back to the penthouse? Order in?”

“Of course,” he found himself saying without a thought, pressing his palm to the small of her back and steering her down the street, watching her carefully for any sign of discomfort.

She was quiet for the rest of the walk, and he let her gather her thoughts. The second the door to the penthouse shut behind them, Caroline took a deep breath and let it out, looking him squarely in the eye. “Brian was my Dom. We were play-partners for four years.”

Klaus raised his eyebrows, breathing in sharply. He was admittedly a little jealous that she’d explored that sort of thing with another man before him, and for so long, but it had been a century, and he couldn’t deny that he was pleased she wouldn’t have to be eased into it as he’d previously thought. She seemed to only be able to read the first half of that on his face though, and she took a deep breath before more words spilled out in a rush. “It was just physical. It didn’t mean any—Well, it did mean something then, but it doesn’t now. He lives in New York and usually I text to have coffee or whatever when I pass through, so I think he was just curious about why I—non-sexual coffee, obviously—anyway I think he just thought I was mad or something. I just didn’t want...I was worried you’d...” she trailed off.

“Be jealous?”

She snorted. “No, I knew you’d be jealous. I guess it’s kind of stupid, but I was scared you’d judge me?”

“Judge you?” he asked softly, noting the way her spine straightened slightly at the tone. “Quite the contrary, sweetheart.”

She frowned. “Then why wouldn’t you say—“

“I didn’t want to scare you off,” Klaus admitted, a thousand plans and scenarios hatching in his mind about what he could do with the information he’d just gotten.

“Scare me off?” Caroline asked, raising her eyebrows. “Klaus, I’m a hundred and twenty-three. Even if I wasn’t into it I’d just talk to you like an adult. Do you really think I’d bail on you because you had a kink?”

“Do you think I’d ‘bail on’ you?” he shot back, and she pressed her lips together, clearly uncomfortable.

“It’s different,” she said finally. “With me, I mean.”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate, and she sighed, looking out the window, unable to meet his eyes. “You’re just like...Everything we do is super hot, obviously. Like, you’re so good at dirty talk and you make me feel sexy, you know? But you’re so old and experienced and I figured that if it was something you wanted you would have told me.”

“Caroline,” he began, trying to gather his thoughts. “There’s truly nothing you could tell me that would make me want you less. No fantasy or wish that’s too sinful or salacious. I never want you to worry that you’re not enough or not who I want, because I’ve truly never wanted anyone the way I do you.”

“But you might get tired of me or change your--”

“You’re mine, sweetheart,” he said firmly, fighting down the small smile at the way her eyes snapped up to meet his at the tone, the way her breath caught. “I’ve waited a century for you, and I think we both know that I’d have waited longer.”

“Waiting for the idea of being with me is different than the real thing,” she insisted.

“Caroline, I want you,” he said simply, searching her face, trying to find the words that would convince her of what seemed so obvious to him. “I always will. I’m quite honestly more nervous that I’ll do something terrible and drive you away than at the slim possibility of falling out of love with you. If anyone should be terrified of being left behind, it’s me.”

She gave him a look that said clearly that she didn’t agree but seemed to decide to save the argument for another day, giving him a small smile and kissing him softly before resting her head on his shoulder, her face buried in his neck as they laced their fingers together. “I love you,” she said quietly. “I love you and I want you.”

“And I, you my love.”

He felt her lips move as she smiled against his skin, her lips brushing over his jugular before she pulled back to look at him, her eyes darkened with want. “So, just to be clear, you’re into it? The BDSM thing?”

“More than,” he murmured, cupping her cheek and smiling when she leaned into his touch. “There’s nothing I’d like more than for you to trust me enough to give yourself to me. To let me control your pleasure and your time. I want your loyalty and your love, and you putting your faith in me to take control is one of the best gifts you could bestow upon me.”

She laughed quietly, her hands sliding up his chest to fiddle with the buttons on the collar of his henley. “I trust you,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his. “What do you want me to call you? In play, I mean?”

He mulled it over for a moment, fiddling with the ends of her hair with the hand that wasn’t occupied with stroking the soft skin of her cheek. He liked ‘Master’, wanted nothing more than to hear it fall from her lips with a soft sigh as he brought her to the edge and let her pleasure linger there, his to bestow. Then again, he would also enjoy hearing the reverence in her voice when she said his name, the syllables hard and desperate and gritted between her teeth, the ‘s’ a soft hiss between her ‘please’s as she squirmed against his body, begging for release.

“Master,” he settled on after a moment. “Though I might change my mind. Safeword?”

“Hummingbird,” she said immediately, grinning at his raised eyebrow. “You have no idea how many dirty dreams I’ve had about this. I have spent a crazy long time planning super elaborate fantasies about all the things I want.”

“You’ll have to tell me about them,” he said quietly, leaning forward to catch her lips with his, savoring the taste of her, the soft sigh she gave him when he pulled away. “All of them. Perhaps if you’re a good girl for me I’ll indulge you.”

He saw her pupils dilate slightly, a shiver running down her spine as her tongue darted over her lips to wet them.

“Yes, Master.”

[faith-in-dean]

A Study of Love - Chapter Four

Summary: Changes were often difficult to manage. In your case, it was a blessing sent from heaven. Sure, you had to master some difficulties but in the end, you would not have decided differently.

Words: 1362

Pairing: Professor!Tony Stark x Reader, mentions of Stucky

Warnings: None

A/N: Please leave some feedback! It encourages me to keep writing this!

Masterpost

You had taken upon Mr. Stark's offer and introduced your grandmother to the care service and soon arranged her move while you cleared the house as best as you could.

Dr. Banner had given you the name of your roommate and also where you could find your new roommate.

Steve Rogers.

As soon as you had entered the room, he immediately began helping you get your stuff sorted out. Steve helped move your furniture and unbox your boxes. And as he did so, the two of you had gotten to know each other very well.

He was a photography major and introduced himself as openly bisexual. Whyever that would've been an important thing about him, you didn't know but you appreciated his honesty.

“So, I heard Professor Stark is sponsoring you this?” Steve asked as you two had settled on the couch after a long day of moving.

“Yeah… uh, he thought it would be a shame if I ruined my studies like that,” you shrugged, leaving out the whole details about the kiss and your feelings.

“Suree… what's the truth?” Steve quirked a brow, looking right through you.

“Maybe another time. I'm pretty tired and got a lot of sleep to catch up on,” you replied, escaping the situation as you rushed to your room. You weren't truly sleeping, in fact, you had been working on Mr. Stark's projects again. Well, you did anything to keep your mind busy and not think about Tony's soft lips on yours while his beard was tickling your chin… you had to stop.

It just couldn't leave your mind. Professor Stark won't leave your mind and it was driving you crazy.

Eventually, though, you decided to actually sleep for once. And you've never felt better.

The next morning you woke up surprisingly energized, hopping beneath the shower and taking care of yourself for once. You had shaved everything that needed some shaving, lotioned yourself up in your favorite shower gel before you finished your shower and gotten into your favorite outfit, even styling your hair somewhat and applying some natural makeup.

And on top of it all? You still had 30 minutes til your first class and with that plenty of time to make your way over to the room. Living on the campus proved itself to be very good.

You carried yourself through the day with such high energy, you began to scare the people around you. And while you had so hoped for Professor Stark to pick up on it, he didn't say anything at all. He didn't even pay attention to you. Not unless you came to him after your last class to finally finish the project.

But even then, he tried to stay distanced while he and Dr. Banner watched you work and type in several codes, linking final cords before you turned to them both.

“It's done. It should work now if you'd like to try it, Mr. Stark,” you said, boring your eyes into his brown ones.

“I think you should get to test it, don't you agree, Dr. Banner?” Tony drew his glance away from you and focused rather on his colleague, who was already picking up something weird.

“Uhm… I think you know best how to use your system, I don't want Y/N to end up hurt,” he rubbed his neck nervously, making Tony roll his eyes and give in.

You let him pass and get into the suit, watching anxiously as it powered on and wrapped entirely around Tony.

“Hello FRIDAY, you're looking lovely today,” Tony said, moving his arms and hands before beginning to walk a short stance, everything going smoothly so far.

“Now for the real question,” Tony muttered before activating something that sent him flying into the air. How the hell have you not known about this?! That was awesome! And it seemed to work without a problem.

Tony made his way back to the station the suit rested in before and unarmored himself before stepping towards you.

“Good job. I'm proud of you, you've figured this out. Knew you could do it,” he had seemed oddly distant, his face barely giving anything away. You didn't clean yourself nicely for this!

“It was a pleasure. I'm glad I got the opportunity,” you said softly, looking at both your professor and Dr. Banner.

“I admit, you're better than I expected. Be sure to hear from us again regarding future projects,” Dr. Banner told you, making you feel all happy and giddy about it.

“Thank you,” you told them and when they hadn't said anything else, you decided it was your cue to leave. You had hoped Tony would eventually follow you but he didn't and it made you feel more disappointed than you would've expected.

And if you thought that was bad, Mr. Stark barely paid any attention to you the following days. Even if you tried your best to get his attention. Were you just a little toy to help him because he couldn't get something done and now that the project was finished he didn't care anymore? Were you nothing but a use of mind for science?

Almost two weeks had passed since the two of you had kissed and you were growing more and more frustrated with each day.

Eventually, you plopped down on the couch in your room, sighing heavily.

“What's with the long face?” Steve asked when he came back from his last class.

“It's nothing,” you muttered, resting your face in your hands.

“This doesn't look like nothing to me,” he sat down next to you, pulling your legs across his.

“Okay. But promise you won't tell anyone?” you looked up at him. Maybe it would help to talk to someone about all of this.

“Your secret is safe with me,” placing his hand on top of his chest, Steve smiled at you.

“Alright,” you sighed, “Mr. Stark and I… I think he cares or cared a lot about me. I know I developed some feelings for him because hell, he is one attractive man and he just… he showed me so much care and supported me with everything. And I'm sure he feels the same because just before I moved here, he kissed me and it almost turned to something more.”

Steve listened the entire time, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why didn't it turn to more?” Steve asked you, earning a small pout from you.

“I was… ashamed of myself. Because I took care of my grandmother I completely neglected myself. I didn't want to be naked in front of him.”

“I see… do you still want him?” He questioned, a bit more serious.

“I do. But ever since then he ignores me almost completely. I don't know what else to do,” you sighed softly while Steve began grinning again.

“When is your next day that starts with him?”

“Tuesday, why?”

“I've got an idea. You'll be late for class and we'll be sure you catch his attention,” Steve promised before he got up.

“After all, I've got my professor wrapped around my finger too,” he winked at you, making you gasp.

“Steve!” You jumped up, running after him as you demanded an explanation.

@feelmyroarrrr @cameronmonaghantrashaf   @backoffmyhusband   @llittle-bird   @supernaturallymarvellous   @crazysocklovingfangirl   @fairlightswiftly @sassysupernaturalsweetheart   @dark-night-sky-99   @emma641   @clairese1980 @aseasyasdeanspie   @river-alice-wolf   @ivvitm1109 @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too @gabbie7-11  

[lavenderek]

What happened after Stiles left with Derek after Derek got rid of Chad?

oh, after chad left? it is not worth reading.

they walk to derek’s apartment. it’s only a block down and across the street, maybe a five minutes walk counting riding the elevator up. hence derek’s eligibility for the position of fake boyfriend (see linked post).

they do have a brief argument, but it’s primarily companionable silence. a little anticipatory, because stiles isn’t sure what’s going to happen. you can never be sure if your fake boyfriend is being serious or not when he tells you in a public space that two o’clock isn’t soon enough to take you to bed. and stiles isn’t sure if he was being serious when he agreed to it. he’s genuinely never thought about it before, and here it is.

derek’s in the same boat, but he has a lot less indecision around it. (1) derek doesn’t really spend a lot of emotional energy waffling on decisions, particularly with regards to sleeping with somebody. that’s just his nature. (2) he is totally okay with it if stiles wasn’t being serious. stiles was 100% serious about derek getting him away from that guy, and derek got him away from that guy, so, either way there’s been a net gain tonight.

they both realize it’s happening as they walk in the door, and that is that. they make out, they do that thing where you kind of navigate your way down a short hallway trying to make out at the same time? they don’t bother turning on any lights, there’s the trail of discarded clothing, the whole stupid thing. derek has a big bed and he settles between stiles’ thighs and kisses him, and derek has a big dick, too. you know. if you’ve read my fic before you know the schedule.

derek has lube and condoms, and he looks at stiles in the dim room and says, “okay?” and stiles is breathless and squirming and yes it’s okay, is derek kidding? is he within this plane of existence? has stiles heretoforth been broadcasting waves of unokayness? he severely cuts down on the talking once derek gets his fingers up in him. everything gets subverbal for a while, and stiles can feel his heart beating in his ears as he watches derek put the condom on, like, he knows cognitively that this is happening? but he can’t process it, he’s so horny that the entire situation is just sort of standing around looking at its watch and waiting for him to acknowledge it. “come on,” he urges, teeth grit. he can’t believe how needy he is.

because listen. the thing about his relationship with chad was, stiles wouldn’t let chad fuck him. that was the major, overarching theme of their entire thing. stiles just didn’t want to. he told chad he would do other stuff, told him he’d let him know if he changed his mind, but chad solidified that decision by being super uncool about it. that was about when he started getting mean. it was chad’s least favorite thing about stiles, and stiles knew it, but he just didn’t fucking want to. it was the only thing he wouldn’t budge on, the only thing. chad left stiles having never fucked him, and stiles is pretty relieved about it. it’s just not his thing, he decided, because the idea of it never really appealed to him.

derek doesn’t know this about stiles because contrary to some people’s perceptions of stiles, he doesn’t really go around sharing super intimate details about his sex life with people. derek offers to fuck stiles because he likes to and he wants to do it to stiles. if stiles wasn’t into it, derek would have been okay with it. but stiles is viscerally into it, to the point where he’s telling derek almost repeatedly to fuck him, as derek is already fucking him. it’s pretty stupid. it’s pretty intense. it’s like a porno. stiles didn’t think people said shit like this in real life. he is going to be super embarrassed after he comes. he is embarrassed after he comes, but he wouldn’t say super. there are more pressing issues on his mind.

he lays there in derek hale’s bed, a naked, sticky mess, and stares blankly at the ceiling. then he looks over and - yep, that’s still derek. “uhhhh,” he says eventually when he’s caught his breath. “we just had sex.”

“uh huh,” says derek. he is not in shock and he guesses he’s not sure why he’s surprised stiles is.

“you and - and me,” stiles elaborates.

derek says, “yeah, stiles, i was there.”

“we,” stiles laughs a little incredulously, “did that!”

“can we stop memorizing flash cards about it,” asks derek, annoyed.

stiles can’t believe he got fucked, and he can’t believe who did it, and he can’t believe how fucking incredible it was, and he can’t believe he did this. “jesus. oh, jesus,” he sits up and buries his face in his hands, an action derek was not anticipating. “i said i’d stop doing this. i said i wouldn’t do this again,” he’s saying into his palms.

derek sits up also, stung. he’s not sure what to say. he had no expectations about this night given the lack of forethought, so he figures it’s just how the night’s going; but he’ll admit it sucks.

“look,” says stiles, which is without fail, always a precursor to things derek doesn’t have the desire or the emotional energy to hear. “i can’t - do casual sex,” stiles tells him. see? derek has no energy. he is completely perplexed and he just came, like, five minutes ago, so he thinks he lacks the brain cells necessary to handle this level of confusion. “you came to my job,” stiles goes on, “and you - you rescued me from my ex or something, and i realized i - six months,” he looks at derek in the dark. “six months! and i never saw it.” he doesn’t mean he’s been, like, obliviously in love with derek or whatever; he means that the possibility was there, and he hadn’t even seen it. that if the opportunity had presented itself anywhere between now and last winter, he would have taken it and ended up right exactly here, and if derek is fake-boyfriending him, stiles is going to have to take a sadness bath.

stiles takes sadness baths when he gets dumped, so what? he’s man enough to admit it. grow up.

derek finally catches up, and sighs for eleventy-forty years. “i told you a year,” he said. “remember? you don’t remember, do you. you were too busy trying to give me shitty craft beer - “

“it’s so good. it’s like, summery,” stiles tells him desperately. “you’d like it. you have to try new things sometimes! i just did!”

“you - what? no. stiles - “

“i get attached,” stiles interrupts, routing back to his original point. or no, actually his second point, because the first point was some bullshit about telling derek they just had sex, as if derek hadn’t noticed or something. “i’m very possessive, and i - i know myself well enough to - “

“stiles.”

“ - able to say this with complete surety, that i - “

“stiles.”

“ - enter into a - what?”

derek just looks at him. stiles looks back. derek raises his eyebrows a little: expectant.

“oh,” stiles says, dropping his hands. “really?” derek waits. “me?”

“yes, stiles,” says derek irritably, “you.”

“are you sure?”

derek rolls his eyes. “no, i’m talking to halle berry, she’s right behind you.”

“halle berry?” stiles pokes his head forward in disbelief. “what year is it?”

“are you trying to get me to change my mind?” asks derek, narrowing his eyes. because stiles is certainly testing his patience, but if that’s his game, it’s not working. 

stiles says, “i am trying to, A, clarify your intentions because they came out of nowhere and make no sense,” derek glares in a new direction, beseeching whatever divine being exists for patience, “and B, ask you to reassess, in case this is the sex pheromones talking, hi pheromones, can i please speak to derek now - “ jesus christ, derek says, “ - and C, remind you what i’m like because you look like your entire soul just packed its bags and moved away, which is par for the course. okay? this is reasonable reasoning, i’m reasoning with you for reason.”

“shut up,” says derek.

“i think reason just stopped being a word,” stiles adds, looking away, into that part of his mind where all the stupid shit lives.

“shut up,” says derek again. “stiles, i’m trying to date you, you get that, right?” stiles returns to the present and stares at derek. “yes or no,” derek says flatly.

“why?” asks stiles. in the same tone of voice and with the same facial expression as if derek just told him he was trying to mail himself a unicycle.

“stiles,” derek sighs, helpless and annoyed, “i don’t know, why does anybody date anybody? you’ve finished A, B, and C and i’m still trying to date you, so i guess i’m not seeing why you’re fighting me on this. either date me or don’t.”

“um, first option,” says stiles, “please.”

this is the most pissed off derek has ever entered into a relationship. for real. and it’s not the most confused stiles has ever entered into a relationship at all. doesn’t diminish his confusion.

“i think condoms sort of make dicks taste a little weird?” stiles suddenly volunteers, which - derek doesn’t care that he’s lost anymore. he thinks he just deliberately entered into an indefinite period of being frustrated and lost and he just looks at stiles and waits a little pessimistically to be not lost anymore. “but,” stiles goes on, “i think i like you enough to want to suck yours anyway.”

okay, that was a little worth it. it was stupid, and derek hates him, but it was worth it all the same. “you know i can wash my dick, right?” derek asks him, which is the rudest and best question anyone has ever asked stiles. the rudest and best question anyone has ever asked, ever.

“if you just fucking tried it,” says stiles desperately, “one sip. one! it’s really good! it’s got peaches in it!”

“if i wanted your shitty beer, i would ask for it,” derek snaps.

“one sip,” stiles says, and he drags out the words for about a full second each. they’re lucky derek owns the building and uses the penthouse, because wow, they’re the worst. “please let me suck your dick,” he says.

“god, stiles,” says derek.

he washes his dick first. stiles is the biggest moron on the planet, and derek has just selected him out of the two-point-whatever billion other people on the planet, so, that’s where derek’s at. in his domespace. etcetera. you get it. whatever.

he explains the chad thing later, after the shower and the blowjob (excellent for both parties), when they’re too tired to argue about whether or not they want to date each other (they do, they’re just the worst). he tells derek what he’s figured out in the last three hours, which is that it wasn’t that he was uninterested in getting fucked, it was that he didn’t trust chad. his brain didn’t even let him unlock that desire until he was with somebody he trusted, someone he thought would make it good for him, would listen to him - the first instinct of self-preservation he thinks he’s ever shown. he curls into derek and thinks to himself that he hasn’t felt, like, unequivocally safe since he was a little kid, since he thought his dad both knew everything and was capable of stopping any bad guy. but he is, here. there is actually nothing that can hurt him right here. except derek, and derek won’t.

well, he’ll hurt his train of thought. and he keeps threatening to yank stiles’ head off his body. but. well. you know.

derek spoons him and thinks about how he really hates chad. he’s offered permission to shove chad down a storm drain or something if he ever sees him again. derek says nothing, but clings to that “or something.”

[coolseanobuseng]

New Post has been published on https://legitlover.com/how-to-make-a-guy-fall-in-love-with-you-over-text-messages-2/

How To Make A Guy Fall In Love With You Over Text Messages-17 Texting Secrets

How to make a guy fall in love with you over text messages-17 texting secrets

In this short article you will find out:

How to make a guy obsessed with you over text. Proven pre-written texts for you to copy and send out with fantastic results. How to quickly flirt over text with a guy (flirty and seductive texts awaiting you below in this short article). How to text a guy to keep him interested and prevent him ghosting you. People’ perspective on texting and the powerful K.I.S.S. method.

How to make a guy want you over text-how to make a guy laugh really hard over text An overall of 17 secrets on texting people on social media. Most women do not understand how or what to text a man to keep him interested

If you like a person and you just have the chance to contact him through text, then so be it.

Of course, always strive for meeting him in person. That’s far more important than the messages you exchange.

When that takes place, don’t forget to first check out this article with 21 great things to talk about on a date.

However if, for whatever factor, you can just interact with each other over text, then continue reading.

In this article, I’ll give you my 17 best flirting suggestions and the secrets to texting and seducing guys. It applies to (Facebook, Tinder, Whatsapp, Snapchat and all other comparable platforms.).

Which platform you utilize doesn’t matter that much. Everything comes down to more or less the same thing and how to make him desire you through text. How To Make A Guy Fall In Love With You Over Text Messages,17 Texting Secrets, here they are;

1. Never text longer than required

Never ever chat longer than needed. Take a look at the whole SMS, Facebook, Whatsapp, Snapchat texting thing as a method to fulfill him personally.

Don’t invest months exchanging messages with someone without seeing him in reality.

And when you meet him, make sure you first have a look at the sneaky, little known text message to make him love you.

What you truly wish to do is give him opportunities to ask you out from the start.

You do this by giving him hints.

What you can text to a person is:

” I’ve always wished to go to that museum.” ” I heard that bar was truly cool.” Simply offer him enough small chances to say:

” How about we go there together?” Einstein If he does not understand these tips, do not panic.

If it takes too long, you can constantly state something like:

” I in fact believe it’s a little impersonal to get to know each other over text. How about we just meet up.”

It wouldn’t hurt to come up with such a tip yourself.

A minimum of try to prevent exchanging messages with each other for months on end.

2. Make an ‘inside joke’

Make an ‘inside joke’. This is one of the best flirting ideas you can apply when texting a person. A joke like that ensures that your text feel much more real.

Envision, for instance, that you went on a date to the petting zoo and while you were there he created a joke about the goats.

” Look at those goats! They have them in all sheeps and sizes!”

Naturally, you being a smart lady, you do not have such a sheep funny bone.

But let’s simply presume you do find it amusing and have not deserted sheep when you heard that amusing wordplay.

Make an ‘inside joke’ So, expect you’ve been through a situation like that. A minute where you both laughed a lot.

Then it’s an outstanding concept to refer to that in your text messages.

( You can tease him for “being the black sheep of the household” or “a wolf in sheep’s clothes”).

It’s a joke that just the two of you’ll comprehend;.

This is what we call an ‘inside joke.’.

The stunning aspect of this is that you produce a kind of us-against-the-world-feeling with this.

So he instantly feels more linked to you when you bring it up again over text (only now in a various context).

3. Be a bit difficult

Be challenging. Guy live for the hunt. We’re actually searching for the obstacle of searching.

When there’s no effort included, it is not intriguing to get it. And let’s be honest. You probably are also not as interested in guys that are too available and have no requirements. You most likely choose a man that is somewhat of a challenge to get. The very same chooses guys.

If something is too simple, it’s just not that interesting.

If you make it too simple for him, he’ll stop chasing you. That is to state, he loses interest and gets bored with you.

But, obviously, we will not let it get that far since you can easily prevent this by not making it so simple for him.

How do you accomplish this?

Challenge and test him in your messages. Do not cancel your plans for his when he asks you out and you’re currently hectic. Don’t reply to all his messages within 5 seconds; more on this in idea # 11. Don’t text him the first thing you do when you get up. Learn more about him before you go on a date with him. By making him talk a minimum of a bit about himself, he’ll have to invest more effort and time in you. These are some proven methods of how to make him desire you over text.

4. Show an interest in him

It’s a lot easier to get a guy thinking about you if you first take an interest in him … than it is if you first try to convince him how great you are.

It’s much like Dale Carnegie when said:

” The royal road to a guy’s heart is to talk with him about the things he treasures most.”

— Dale Carnegie

Ask questions (about him) and integrate this with declarations, I’ll offer you some examples of that in a 2nd.

And don’t send him this text every early morning:

” Hey, did you sleep well?”

You want to prevent these type of questions as much as possible.

Rather, ask him fun things. Concerns that really help to learn more about him on a much deeper level.

Here are a few examples you can utilize for motivation:

What would you like to do more this year?

What habit of yours are you most proud of? 

Is there something you ‘d like everyone to learn about you?

With these kinds of concerns, you show any interest in him and make the conversation more enjoyable.

And if you wish to do it absolutely right, then you must mix up the concerns with declarations.

How to efficiently flirt with a guy over text is to make it enjoyable, challenging, and playful.

Here are some terrific statements on how to flirt with a guy over text

You look like the type of man whom my father would hate; You do not appear like somebody other men would follow into battle; Something informs me you don’t know how to save an innocent princess from a burning structure

These texts play right into his masculinity.

And by doing it this way, you are preventing the discussion from becoming like a boring interview.

5. Prevent the extreme use of smileys

I just recently met a lady I liked a lot. And since I didn’t wish to leave it at that, I decided to befriend her on Facebook.

And we began talking on Messenger.

Something occurred that really turned me off.

Her messages were full of odd abbreviations and smileys.

And I’m not the only one who’s switched off by this. There are a lot of males who think these things are too childish.

It would be an embarrassment for you to miss out on an excellent man because of something like this that you can easily avoid.

It’s fun when you’ve found the button on how to send him the craziest smileys. But please don’t utilize it.

More men are shut off by this than there are guys who think:

Oh. Wow. She uses a great deal of smileys; she’s adorable.

Leave it at that.

6. Prevent boring topics and topics that are emotionally heavy

Chatting is supposed to be fun. You want to avoid subjects that are too severe, and avoid heavy emotional conversations at all times.

Some topics to avoid at all expenses are:

politics religion your ex-boyfriend When you learn more about a man, it’s not a good concept to talk with him about these examples anyhow.

You want to stay away from it even more over text.

Since it only produces misconceptions.

You simply can’t read someone’s face and understand what they suggest over text.

You might believe that he’s most likely ironical again when he isn’t. And vice versa.

In order to avoid such misunderstandings, it’s much better to go over these matters in real life. And only when it’s important to discuss it.

7. “Never have I ever …”

Now, before you think:

Hey, this looks suspiciously like a drinking game I used to play. It’s precisely the exact same game but through text (and without alcohol).

It’s a fantastic game to play when you’re texting with a guy. And one of the great flirty texts you can send for him is,

” I’ve never ever swum naked before.”

If he responds that he has, you can ask him another question.

… But if he responds that he’s never done that in the past, it’s his turn.

This way of texting is more amazing, and you’ll discover the craziest stories about each other too. If you want to flirt with him through Whatsapp (or whatever platform you are using), then this is an excellent method.

8. Ask him for suggestions

Ask him for advice. I’m all for ladies’ rights, however there is one small thing that I discover a bit unfortunate about the entire feminist movement.

Which is some of the concepts they’re spreading around the world.

For instance, some females seem like they don’t need a male.

Well, that’s true to some extent.

But let me inform you something …

A buddy of mine just recently met a girl that was a 25-year-old kiss-virgin who entered into the Me Too movement in her teenage years.

That stunning woman had not even kissed a person in her 25 years because of how she got affected. And she was stunning …

One thing she felt now was that she had actually been losing out in life and wondered what she was believing …

Let’s face it …

Men require women, and women require guys Male require females, and females need guys The most unpleasant feature of this belief is that some women now want to do EVERYTHING by themselves.

A couple of examples:

He offers her recommendations; she ignores it. He wishes to pay the bill; she uses to share it. He wishes to assist her bring a heavy shopping bag; she declines his aid and does the heavy lifting herself. … And so on.

The issue here is that if you constantly decline to do these things (asking him for guidance, letting him help you or pay the bill etc.), then he can not feel liked because …

A male wants to fix things for you And if you decline his aid, you’re in fact declining his love.

It’s like informing him for the very first time that you enjoy him, and he reacts, “I don’t care.”

I can imagine you would not like this.

He does not like it when you never ever let him assist you.

That is why it is important to let him understand from time to time that you require him (despite the fact that is not actually the case).

Ask him for guidance over text now and then and provide him the feeling he’s required.

If you do this, he’ll instantly like you a lot more.

9. Compliment him

It’s simple to have a male fall for you when you stroke his ego.

This is something that works for EVERY guy.

One uncomplicated method to touch his ego is to compliment him.

That simple?

Yeah, it’s that basic. It’s one of the most reliable methods to make a person fall for you (over text).

The reason compliments work so well is since guys typically seldom receive any Expect you offer him some, then he’ll immediately feel good about himself.

Guess what person he’ll link that good feeling too?

You.

Compliments are simply an uncomplicated way to hit on a man, both in reality and over text.

So send him a compliment from time to time. If he has a new photo on Whatsapp, Facebook, or Instagram.

It’s a small effort that makes a big distinction.

10. Make yourself STOP

There are times when it’s never ever wise to send out a message to a man you are interested in.

What are those moments?

First off, I’m pleased you asked.

I don’t know if you periodically drink alcohol.

But I do understand it’s a horrible idea to send out messages when you’re under the influence.

So that’s something you want to prevent.

That’s it? Nope.

Likewise, when you’re (really) emotional, it’s not a good time to exchange messages.

On these moments it’s better to make yourself STOP.

By the way, as I mentioned before, it’s never a good idea to talk about heavy and too serious conversations over the phone.

Simply don’t send messages if you’re under the influence (of alcohol or strong feelings), that will conserve you from sending out messages you will later regret.

11. Do not react to his every text within 5 seconds

We mentioned in pointer # 3 that males want to hunt.

(even if we say we do not) we desire to make an effort for you.

And it’s idiotic due to the fact that if we can’t bother “getting” you, we don’t value you.

And if we don’t value you, we’ll lose interest rapidly.

Again, this is something exceptionally stupid.

However still extremely crucial.

And on the other hand, how would you like it if a person on the very first date stated to you:

” OK, I want to marry you, and I wish to have 3 kids”

You ‘d probably escape shouting, would not you? Thought so.

Well, that’s what it feels like for a person when you have no value in his eyes.

What does this relate to text messages?

Well, look. If you reply within 5 seconds each time he sends you a message, then you’ll come across as really simple, and you’ll lose your worth.

Address his messages when you have the time. Don’t focus on responding to him over your own agenda.

12. K.I.S.S.

No, by that I do not imply the legendary rock band KISS.

I was describing the English acronym K.I.S.S

To put it simply, “Keep It Short and Simple.”

It’s something you wish to apply to your messages. No matter what platform you are utilizing.

Because of men’ point of view on texting, constantly attempt to keep it brief and simple The factor for this is that men see interaction as a way of exchanging information.

This is people’ point of view on texting:

When two people are talking to each other, you’ll see that they’re constantly exchanging truths with each other. This form of interaction is based on the truth that whatever need to be short and accurate.

If it’s not clear what you’re trying to express to him over text, then he will right away end up being baffled. Through chat, this confusion takes place even faster than normal.

Simply put, K.I.S.S.

13. Send out exciting messages

If you have not slept with each other, skip this one.

If you have been intimate, it’s enjoyable to send him an amazing message once in a while.

Simply put, sexting (sex + texting).

With sexting, you make him think about you sexually sexting. Recent study even shows that sexting contributes to a good relationship.

I’ll give you an example and how to seductively flirt over text with a guy below.

” Hey, I was thinking of you in the shower today.”

The enjoyable aspect of this particular message is that it’s up to him how he analyzes it. It’s a very innocent method to flirt with him sexually.

14. Prevent daily updates

Prevent day-to-day updates. You’ve heard me state it previously, but for guys, communication is a way of exchanging info.

When 2 males are talking, they are continuously exchanging realities with each other.

And even when a man talks to a woman, he’ll believe:

” She’s telling me about her day at the office, so I’ll inform her about my day at the workplace.”

Because guys are exceptionally easy beings, 2 issues typically arise when we talk with a woman … If you tell us a whole story, you’re providing us a lot of truths. If you tell us a story without any “meaning,” we do not understand a thing. The very first issue women typically realize on their own, but the second one is still quite new for the majority of women.

For instance, if you send him a message like:

I just had spaghetti. I’m SO full today.

Or:

My colleague called in ill today, so now I have to work twice as tough.

He’s like:

Well, what am I expected to do with this?

He does not see any truth that he can do anything with, so it’s better not to send this kind of message to him at all.

Because he doesn’t understand how to react to this, he is most likely to respond rudely, or not at all. Which will make you feel even worse.

Avoid this by preventing sending this kind of messages. If you want to hit on a person through text, follow this concept

15. Less is more

OK, communication is crucial in every kind of a relationship.

Some females are guilty of sending too many messages to a male.

( If this applies to you, you’ve been caught red-handed.).

Well, it’s also real that it very much depends on what kind of messages you send. “I’m anticipating tonight” is better than “What are you doing right now?”.

But still …

It’s never ever a great concept to send a guy a lot of messages, unless you have been dating for a very long time.

Even if he likes it initially, he might very well wake up one day and believe:.

I think it’s all going a little too quickly.

Thoughts like this can all of a sudden get in a man’s mind. He may begin believing that you’re not the right for him. He might think that he has commitment phobia.

So relax, specifically in the beginning.

This prevents him from being turned off by you, and it likewise saves you time. A great deal.

16. Don’t be negative

I can comprehend that you do not always feel fantastic.

( … Everyone sometimes has days when things are not working out).

However let’s be honest. When you start dating, you want to show your finest side.

Even if you have a bad day, it’s a great idea to send him a good message.

Or if you feel dreadful, don’t send him anything at all until things are much better.

In the beginning, you want to neglect problems If something tragic has taken place (such as the death of a family member), then you can bring this up.

You do not desire to trouble him with issues you are having at work or similar situations. Specifically not over the phone or text.

He’s simply not going to react well to this.

Later on, when you’re in a relationship, you’ll have lots of time to speak about these things (in person). For now, keep it fun over text and when you meet up.

17. Flirt the same way you do over text as you do in real life

You probably already have some flirting experience that has actually worked well for you in the past.

Whatever that operates in real life, likewise works when you’re texting with a guy.

The method you communicate may alter, but the principles stay the very same.

Did you notice that this post about texting, has a great deal of resemblances with my other posts about flirting and making a guy fall in love?

You didn’t observe? Really? Well, now you understand.

For that reason, besides the recommendations I gave you in this post, you can also apply the important things you already knew about males.

Text him in the very same ways that have already worked for you in genuine life.

Now you understand How To Make A Guy Fall In Love With You Over Text Messages-17 Texting Secrets!

[lpstuff]

Searching the Sky: Unravelling Perception

Perception has always fascinated me – aged nine I won a prize at the school science fair for two experiments on vision: colour detected in peripheral vision (what colour do we see first?) and the blind spot in the eye causing objects to disappear due to the entry of the optic nerve on the retina. My science career went downhill from there (defeated by lack of talent for math) and I found a better use of a burgeoning interest in optical phenomena in design later, and more fully, as an artist. Nature is ordered yet cleverly deviant: we must be alert to aberrations in patterns signalling new information.

Aged 9, winning the science fair with two experiments on perception

Alongside my research into the Euclid Mission and the development of the VIS (Visible Light Spectrum) instrument at MSSL, I have been investigating the nature of perception as a psychological and philosophical question. Euclid will peer deeper into space than ever before, recording millions of galaxies and giving us the opportunity to answer fundamental questions about matter and gravity on a cosmological scale. My interest lies in how perception, filtered through sophisticated instruments and scientific intention, comes to be constructed in the mind and influences our grasp of reality. What historical baggage do we bring to the process of perception and could our understanding of space require a shift in perception to accept the extraordinary view being offered by a plurality of satellites and probes exploring the universe?

I discovered the work of Maurice Merleau-Ponty who, in 1945, wrote Phenomenology of Perception where he ‘emphasised the body as the primary site of knowing the world’ which couldn’t be separated from consciousness. His essay Eye and Mind focuses on aesthetic perception while also measuring qualities of the scientific gaze. As a compliment to this view, I found the writing of physicist and philosopher David Bohm useful in clearly outlining early 20th century behavioural research by Jean Piaget into a human infant’s awareness of space and itself while gracefully linking this to the relativistic view of the world established by Einstein in modern physics. He believed science must be open to the free play of creative thought by holding multiple theories at once, sparking one off the other until enlightenment takes place. This will be crucial if we are to expect a breakthrough in the current impasse in science, proposing that 95% of the universe is missing owing to the presence of dark matter and dark energy. Perspective is an essential part of perception.

Extending our sense of sight, through technological interventions such as the Euclid telescope, into previously unseen corners of the universe should result in a fresh understanding of the elusive structure of dark matter. Mapping three quarters of the universe (a gift to astronomers but baffling to the average man), it will produce 100 gigabytes of data per day, discovering a million new galaxies every 10 minutes before being calibrated, compressed and downloaded to earth for analysis. But will data analysis be enough? Bohm said:

‘The ability to perceive or think differently is more important than the knowledge gained.’ David Bohm

In the Eye and Mind, Merleau-Ponty says ‘It is by lending his body to the world that the artist changes the world into paintings’, meaning that through embodying sensations the artist finds a symbolic way to leave his vision in the world. By living in a body, not separate from the mind, he can weave a comprehension of the sensory rooted in his environment. Descartes wanted to place the mind away from the body but Merleau-Ponty saw that perception entwined the two – there is an ‘undividedness of the sensing and the sensed’ that unifies thought and sensation. However, the eyes see, take in the world, before thoughts emerge, and vision precedes analysis. Merleau-Ponty suggests that science must return to the original state of sensory experience – not the body as ‘an information machine’– in order to properly ground thought. He states ‘science manipulates things and gives up living in them.’

Sample Euclid data showing detected light levels of galaxies and cosmic rays etc as represented in numbers

While studying how the ultra sensitive VIS instrument will capture the delicate light from distant galaxies, it occurred to me that scientists no longer see these images with wonder. Streaming across the 36 CCDs of the naked focal plane of the telescope, these ancient photons are crucial data recorded numerically as light levels that will identify faint galaxies. Abstractly quite beautiful, as a numerical patterned field, this data spews from the system at 56 mega bits per second producing the equivalent of a football field of A4 sheets of data (see image). Galaxies, cosmic rays, stars and other ‘noise’ are recorded but then calibrated (or cleaned up) by ground stations making it ready for analysis. The wonder scientists experience is more likely bound up in the quantity and accuracy of the data. Perhaps this touches the core reason of why philosophers, poets and artists are valuable assets to such research. Marrying with science with sensation, they can create the ultimate visual experience where knowledge and feeling merge.

David Bohm understood the perceptual experience as a two-way process called a ‘circular reflex’. He carefully studied the research of psychologist Jean Piaget who, in the 1930s, looked at the cognitive developmental of infants, explaining perception as incoming reception of sensory experience complemented by outgoing impulses of action. The infant progressively builds up a mental map of the world by testing incoming perceptions (sight, sound, touch etc) through active impulses that meet with its environment in a constant feedback loop. There are ‘invariant’ objects forming expectations of the world (stored in memory) and these are adjusted as fresh information arrives. Incoming sensory information is placed on a mental map establishing a perceptual field of constant, stable objects (such as ‘six chairs sit upright on the floor’). This background field is challenged by inconstant information (such as a chair has fallen over). Forming our sense of reality, this process stimulates the intellect to form abstractions of these relationships such as mathematical laws describing, for example, the moment where gravity tipped the chair over. Everything is measured by what has gone before so naturally perception as a whole can become quite fixed.

Bohm goes on to say that ‘scientific investigation is basically a mode of extending our perception of the world, and not mainly a mode of obtaining knowledge about it’. Knowledge is the information that streams back into the feedback loop of perception – it is a higher-level abstraction of first hand experience. Astronomical instruments have the ability to extend our sense of perception by circumventing immediate experience and depositing additional (unsensed) information on our understanding of reality, thus creating expanded concepts of the structure and form of the natural world. The enormous quantity of data collected by Euclid may mean that it is possible no human will ever see all of the millions of galaxies detected on its mission. They will only exist as data. Through technology, information extends beyond man’s ability to sense it.

Yet Bohm is positive about this impasse. He believes the flexibility of the mind can overcome any fixed ideas by following curiosity in probing the perceptual structure of the world for falsities that hold us back. He mentions the ‘inner show’ of experience that plays back in the mind, and through imagination and memory creates hypotheses of meaning about the world. In early childhood, we are attuned to our environment in a flowing cycle of observation and experimentation that quickly grasps and then releases new thoughts and sensations. This process becomes habitual in later years as the general structure of the world is taken for granted. But, he says, if we are alert we sense contradictions when they arise. When this happens the brain is sensitive to the discovery of new relationships, leading spontaneously to further hypotheses, which are embodied in the appearance of new structures of the ‘inner show’. It seems relevant to describe here the shift in imagination I experienced while taking in the concept of the web-like structure scientists describe as dark matter in space. My inner show has been irrevocably altered and I no longer see space as an empty void.

Cyanotype workshop at MSSL Space lab: eyes, hands, curiosity

To conclude this brief philosophical journey, one thing has become apparent to me during this residency: the sensory is still essential to scientific endeavours and artists can share expert skills in this area. Many of the creative workshops I held with staff used extremely tactile materials to express aspects of their work such as galaxy shapes in glass granules or paper to bend into curves forming new spaces within. Visual stimulation took many forms during these sessions – photo printing, drawing, watercolours, a camera obscura in a dark room and a walk in the woods. Strangely, few were interested in the stargazing activities on offer. However, my core followers at the lab are curious how I will react to their important work. I’m eager to share the exhibition artworks that respond to all that I have encountered at the lab – staff will be able to assimilate fresh visions, perhaps merging with their own ‘inner shows’ describing the universe.

Bibliography:

Merleau-Ponty, Maurice, (1962) Phenomenology of Perception. London. Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd

The Eye and Mind (L’oeil et l’esprit) was the last work of Merleau-Ponty saw published. It appeared in the inaugural issue of Art de Frana, no.1, January 1961. Available at: http://www.biolinguagem.com/ling_cog_cult/merleauponty_1964_eyeandmind.pdf

Carman, Tony and Hansen, Mark B. N. editors, (2005) The Cambridge Companion to Merleau-Ponty. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press

Nichol, Lee, (2003) The Essential David Bohm: edited by Lee Nichol. London, Routledge

Bohm, David and Peat, David, (1987) Science, Order and Creativity. Routedge, Abingdon

Hoffman, Roald and Boyd Whyte, Iain, (2011) Beyond the Finite: The Sublime in Art and Science. Oxford University Press, New York