#or wild wet and worrisome just anything set At Sea

[eli-is-an-idiot]

oh god ive been listening to nothing but sea shanties for the last three days and now I want to write a lost in your eyes fic

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

29. Sweet, sexy and practically fainting

Prompt used- Tickling the other one | implied smut |

" okay stop being a damn beauty queen draco and step into the waters, nothing's going to bite you " pansy rolled her as she looked at Draco through her sunglasses over the bridge of her nose

"I love your determination to send me there but I'm good with sitting here and tanning myself. Besides look at the boys, they've gone absolutely wild " draco sighed as he leant down backward on the sheets, bathing in the sun.

" well I'll go in the waters " Hermione announced as she dropped her robes and walked ahead to the waters.

" see even she went and she's the most uptight women I know " pansy said as she too laid back on the floral sheets

" thought she wasn't so bad anymore " draco said with his eyes closed

" she's great but I'm just saying so you'd actually get up and go into the waters " pansy replied

" nice try pans " draco sighed.

" you guys aren't joining ?" A familiar voice asked besides them. Draco opened his eyes and leant on his elbows to see Harry now standing in front of them

" nah, I'm good being here " draco replied narrowing his eyes because of the sun. Pansy too nodded without looking up at harry.

" well if that's what you want " harry shrugged and started unbuttoning his shirt.

" Ron said waters great, I wouldn't miss it " harry grinned as he dropped his shirt on the sheets and walked away into the waters, letting draco watch him as he walked away.

" just go join him for fucks sake draco" pansy rolled her eyes

" why aren't you going?" Draco rolled his eyes at pansy. She took off her glasses and looked at Draco " because baby, queen never works in the crowd " and with that Draco broke into a fit of laughter.

" I'm sorry but queen " Draco mimicked her voice still cackling to death.

" what's so funny ?" Blaise asked as he started drying off himself.

" nothing, just his renowned self still laughing over an abysmal joke because of the inability of his brain to comprehend when to stop " pansy rolled her eyes

" do tell him pansy, I'm sure even his brain would stop comprehending when to stop " draco chuckled as his laugh started dying out. He glanced behind Blaise into the waters to watch harry rising out of the water, pushing his wet hair back.

" ahem " pansy cleared her Throat smirking at Draco knowingly.

" shut up " draco rolled his eyes at pansy, blushing lightly but he allowed himself to believe it was the sun. And he fell back into the sheets again.

They soon heard someone coming back, mumbling something on their way back something about not getting that thing in her hair. Draco looked up again to find Hermione and Ron joining them, drying off their bodies with towels.

" why aren't you coming ?" Suddenly harry asked appearing out of nowhere ruffling his hair to get rid of water

" eh, I like it here " draco expressed and tried to lay back but harry grabbed his wrist and practically threw him over his shoulder and carried into the waters.

" PUT ME DOWN POTTER " Draco bellowed trying to wiggle free from Harry's grasp

" oh- you want me to put you down-well-"

" don't you dare, harry- no- not the wate- augh " and draco was dropped into the waters as harry cackled looking down at Draco. He gave harry a scowl before he pulled him down too and tickled him.

" for- Merlin- I can't breathe " harry laughed as he fought for air

" yeah- should've thought about it before dropping me into the water " draco raised his eyebrows as he tickled harry further on his bare stomach.

" fuck- staph- I swear- draco please- " harry kicked the empty water almost dying out of laughter

" say you're sorry" draco commanded but harry shook his head until Draco tickled him harder all over his body making him beg draco to stop.

" fu- fuck- fine- sorry- won't-" and with that Draco took his hands off Harry's body. He rolled over in the water, Peeking his head out for air until he gave draco a sinister grin and pulled him under the water's again.

They spent the rest of their time on the beach laughing and rolling in the waters, splashing at each other and making fun of how their hair looked.

" you got Sand in my hair harry" draco groaned as they walked back to other who immediately stopped talking as soon as they came.

" what were you guys talking about ?" Harry asked as he picked up his towel and started drying off his hair.

" nothing, Just talking about tonight's party in the hotel " Blaise smirked. Draco frowned knowing exactly that he lied but Decided to not call him out just yet.

" what time is it ?" Draco asked as he too dried off his hair.

" I think around 8-ish. I might run a bit late, this maniac got Sand in my hair " harry rolled his eyes nudging draco.

" hey- you have a bird's nest. Do you even know how Long it would take for me to get rid of this beach smell alone, let alone the sand " draco rolled his eyes as he casually playfully hit harry over his arms.

" well I was just making you have some fun and you can't deny- you had fun " harry teased

" I was just glad a sea urchin didn't bite me " draco rolled his eyes

" keep covering it all up- anyways- I'm gonna go run back to hotel to get something to eat then meet you all at the party, how does it sound ?"

" sounds good to me " draco frowned. They all nodded at harry, Ron and harry deciding to go with him.

" harry, wait " draco stopped harry

" what ?"

" nothing- you just got a leaf in your hair " draco pulled out a leaf from the back of Harry's head and showing it to him. Harry gave him a sweet smile before thanking him and left.

As soon as harry had left the first thing he heard was laughter, from his friends.

" could you crush anymore over him ?" Blaise laughed

" whatever " draco rolled his eyes blushing and collected his stuff " both of you, die in hell " he pointed at his friends who were mimicking draco and harry and making kissing noises. Scowling draco left the presence of his friends. They were assholes, even if they were right.

After draco had finally taken a long shower and eaten something, he got dressed in his red floral shirt after much retaliation and black pants, he left for the party by 9.

He immediately grew morbid at the amount of people were at the party but this trip was supposed to be for having fun, take a few days away from their work life and so draco made himself adjust to the party and soon enough found his friends chatting by the bar.

" ooh is the Slytherin in red for the gryffindor who took away his heart " pansy teased

" seriously grow up, I wore it because I liked it" draco sighed

" I believe you honey- a glass of champagne and sex on the beach and a gin for the boy " Pansy told the guy behind the counter who nodded immediately and prepared the drinks

" but I don't wanna drink-"

" think you would If you'd see that " pansy pointed to the centre of the dance floor. At first draco didn't notice anything unusual until he saw harry, and not just harry, harry talking with someone, no laughing with someone. A silent jealousy fueled inside draco.

" I don't care- he's at perfect liberty to dance with whoever he wants- as long as I care- that guy's too tall for him " draco turned around and sat down facing the bartender.

" if that's the case then- hi harry " pansy immediately squealed.

" you won't believe, that guy is literally just so perfect for me pansy- thank you so much for setting me up with him- gosh- thanks for the drink " harry excitedly informed, took draco's gin, straight up drank it and left.

" you- you've got to be kidding me- you set him up " draco clenched his jaw at pansy

" don't worry. I know exactly what I've done. Have your drink draco " and with that they spent the larger part of the evening drinking, despite draco's initial rejection, he was drinking awful lot that he had lost the count.

" draco- alright that's enough- drinking won't make it go away " pansy sighed as he pushed away draco's drinks.

" what's up with him? Draco you fine ?" Harry asked as he returned for the fifth time now.

" oh- I'm absolutely smashed it's feels great- have fun with Georgi " draco slurred giving him a lopsided smile

" well it's Joe "

" right- Joe- have fun " draco smacked his hands against the counter.

" woah- "

" I'll take care of him Potter- you go " pansy sighed

" you- you knew and you set him up- why ?" Draco whined almost losing his balance on the stool.

" I- lemon please- I didn't set him up that way alright- you've got nothing to worry about " pansy told him

" nothing to worry about ? He's dancing with another man - " hiccup " how could you ?"

" draco- control yourself- here drink this " pansy pushed a drink at Draco. He looked at the drink wryly before bottomed up and let it have a tingling effect on him.

" better ?" Pansy asked. Draco burped internally before nodding. Feeling a little sober, draco turned to look at harry dancing with Joe again making something clench inside him.

" I have to go-" draco suddenly jumped off the stool

" go where ?" Pansy asked worrisome

" harry. If I don't go now, I will never "

" but-" but he had already made his way into the dance floor and towards harry. He sharply walked towards harry, not thinking even for the slightest what he'd do when he faces him but all he knew he needed to go to harry. He needed to.

And so when he reached harry with Pansy yelling behind him to stop, he grabbed his wrist and turned him around.

" draco- " but Harry's words were caught in his tongue when Draco pressed his lips against harry's and let it devour the taste of gin on Harry's lips. He pulled away as in asking for if harry wanted to step away but everything was happening too fast that harry didn't had time to refuse and pressed his lips against draco's. If jealousy made draco kiss him so phenomenally then harry wanted him to do this everyday because in that one kiss, that one sexy, mouth devouring, passionate kissing, draco hadn't missed an opportunity to make Joe cringe and leave.

" wo- jeez, just inform the next time before you do this " harry smirked against draco's lips, his hands in draco's hair.

" well there wasn't much time but I inform you now " and with that Draco kissed him again with the same passion just more lust as if it was the end of the World and if Draco didn't kiss him how, he never will. In the hot steamy crowd, draco pressed his body more against harry, his hands roaming Harry's chest, making harry moan when Draco lightly brushed over one of Harry's nipples.

" fuck- draco- let's go to the room " harry sighed against draco and immediately grabbed his wrists and lead the way towards his room, but it was more makeout than steps taken. They had to stop at each floor to kiss as if it was an appreciation for reaching this far without pounding on each other.

When they finally reached Harry's room, they wasted no time in making the make out session more cardinal with lust and intensely passionate. The room filled moans as harry pressed draco against the door, feeling draco's boner pressed against harry's thighs. Without thinking, draco started fumbling with the buttons on Harry's shirt until he stopped him.

" you're drunk draco" harry said, a sudden guilt washed over him and he stepped away " fuck- you're drunk- we can't " harry pushed his hair out of his face.

" so what ?" Draco whined closing the distance between them once again to kiss him again but harry stopped him.

" Merlin- draco I've waited long enough for this- but this isn't how I want it to be- I want to take you, need you, god do things to you but not this way"

" then take me harry, I'm all yours" draco whined. Harry chuckled, pressing a soft kiss against draco's forehead.

" say this in the morning and then I promise I'll take you just how you want me to " harry whispered smiling. Draco sighed but didn't bring it up again and soon enough draco fell asleep in Harry's bed.

And as said, the next morning draco woke up and as promised harry had him exactly the way Draco wanted, sweet, sexy and practically fainting.

Requests open

Sorry if this seemed fast

Day 28- I'll catch you | Day 30 - scared, potter ?

[leftpress]

Fear Factor

From Black and Green Review - by Sky Hiatt

The advanced civilization of the present is marketed as a stronghold of fortified security where citizens can confidently live out their lives free from the dangers posed by uncivilized life. Life spans advance, health improves, and we are protected from the threat of wildlife attacks, attacks from nation states or terrorist invasions. Considering this popular narrative on its own terms, it would seem that those fortunate enough to be living in such societies would be typified by fearlessness and living fearless lives. But, ironically, though securities have advanced and proliferated, our fears have not receded. To the contrary, they have evolved in step and thus are ever-escalating. So far at least, our fears are always one step ahead of our security technologies. When European settlers landed in North America facing a primal paradise unknown even in their fantasies, reaction was mixed. Some, perhaps only a few, embraced it. Many, if not most, feared the untamed, wild world and set forth to alter and destroy it. According to Brooks Atkinson in This Bright Land, many pilgrims despised the “hideous wilderness full of wild beasts and wild men.”[1] At least one settler committed suicide rather than face life in the howling wasteland of the New World. These were the vast primordial forests of the lost continent into which light could barely penetrate nor men pass through. Europe had already reconfigured most of its prehistoric woodlands into rolling farmlands, shrub-bound homes, lawns and formal gardens. From this subdued world the conquerors, entrepreneurs, freed-serfs, and adventurers set sail for a place where Nature reigned unrestrained. The newcomers, oppressed subjects of the Old World social order, were a fear-based people who often struck an antagonist approach to the New World. Fear was their untiring, constant companion. The settlers were un-wild and perhaps over-civilized, so it was difficult for them to see themselves as the future would see them—intolerant, misled, sickly, cruel, uprooted. To calm their fears, they pushed back the forest, cleared the land, killed the animals, exiled surviving tribes, and they prevailed. But this did little to assuage their fears. And hundreds of years later, that day is yet to come. The uprooted, surging Old World masses, dislodged from inherited knowledge and fleeing the industrialized hubs of Europe, were at a historic disadvantage and poorly prepared to accept advanced philosophies of the native people to whom nature was a consoling confidant. Only a few took advantage of these ideas and the chance to be wild themselves. The rest picked up their saws and axes and bit into the empires of white pine, chestnut, red cedar, and other trees of the Eastern forests. They felt more secure in their solid log cabins with muskets by the door. But they would live and die in fear in that strange, unfamiliar New World, unaware the muskets fed the fear and helped set up an ill-fated model for the future. Transplanted to the present day, the pilgrims might be astonished at how their tentative venture has prevailed and they might well yearn to live among us. But if they got that chance, they would soon notice, with the objectivity of time travelers, that we had suffered a series of unfortunate setbacks. The early hopes and ambitions carried unsuspected consequences. Surviving descendants still feared the forest, what was left of it. In the cities, some even feared the individual trees. They still feared the wolves, bears and bobcats, rarely seen but still terrifying. By now they’d come to fear almost anything wild: foxes, coyotes, opossums. Bats, spiders. Even bees. And new fears evolved. The weather—wind, cold and rain, became increasingly difficult to tolerate. The Sun had become a hazard. There were increasing concerns about the purity of food, air and water. There was a growing distrust of other people. Community, family and extended families all depreciated. Tribes lingered as a faint mystic memory. Doors were locked, mace tucked into pockets. With wealth came fear of poverty, fear of the poor, fear of crime. In some areas, the modern vocabularies had trouble keeping pace. Neighborhoods were fortified by suburban version of the Great Wall—gated and patrolled communities. Such a monumental stronghold civilization had become, the size of it was also worrisome. And so, in the cycle of cyclic times, the word fear became systematically outdated and the nomenclature advanced accordingly. The modern pilgrims suffered from clinical fears. Generalized anxiety. Chronic stress. Panic attacks. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Imaginary fears—hypochondria, paranoia. And phobias—lists too long to memorize. Fear of open spaces, fear of closed spaces, fear of heights, fear of the dark. Hydrophobia—fear of water. Phobophobia—the fear of fear itself. Obsessive compulsive disorder, personality disorder, multiple personality disorder. At a certain point, even the cracks in the sidewalk can get you down. By the twenty-first century, civilization and advanced technology, working together, had transformed fear into pathology. Against such fears as these the muskets didn’t help much. Self-help came to monopolize whole sections in the bookstore. Stress Management. From Panic to Power. Plato Not Prozac. The Anxiety Disease. Panic Attacks. Don’t Panic. 10 Simple Solutions to Panic. The Anxiety Answer Book. Anxieties, Phobias and Panic. Coping with Social Anxiety. Overcoming Anxiety. Feel the Fear and Beyond. Feel the Fear and do it Anyway. And so many more. To keep up with the neuroses, entire professions were carved out of the social bedrock to treat the teeming plague of fears. Fear therapy offered hope in coping with crippling real-life symptoms. Toward this end, pharmaceutical industries stepped up as a natural godsend manufacturing mood stabilizers, anti-depressants and anti-psychotics and soon became the most profitable industries of their time. Microscopes revealed a universe of germs we never knew were there. Bacteria, virus, protozoa—extreme germs with unsettling resistant capacities. And the armaments intensified. Antibiotics, vaccines, hand sanitizers, placebos of medical nothingness. But, in the inevitable undertow of seething industrial antagonisms, the germs the scientists discovered, others yearned to weaponize. First there was fear, then terror, then terrorism, then bio-terrorism—a toxic epiphany of interdisciplinary cooperation synchronized by history. As innovation advanced, out-pacing human cunning, progress became the vehicle of perpetual promise that never quite materialized. We built the walls, made the weapons, manufactured the drugs, designed the surveillance cameras, home-security systems, smoke alarms, house alarms, car alarms, bullet-proof glass, gated communities, peep-holes, missile systems, cudgels, nerve gas, razor wire. We refined basic tools into the tools of agriculture, refined the tools of agriculture into weapons, refined the weapons into an arsenal, refined the arsenal into a military industrial complex to appease the conquering mind. The result? Even thermonuclear warheads, the special weapon, were tainted with the promise of radioactive contamination that could make the planet unfit to live on. An unlivable planet was just another uneasy compromise for the security-seeking mind. The bomb brought with it gamma rays, long-lived isotopes and radioactive-waste, assembled from a teeming sea of equations invented to stabilize our sanctuary and yet our worries easily outpaced them. In the end, the mushroom cloud was just another hollow victory eating away at the DNA. These were the high-tech fears that neither Australopithecus nor Neanderthal ever knew of. Had there always been this nascent temptation in technology to disgrace us? By the Twenty-first Century, as academia filled the pages of textbooks with secrets of heavy water and plutonium, we were born again, the ultimate suicide bombers: masters of potential self-immolation , self-termination. Lewis Mumford observed that we had given technology the authority to destroy us.[2] Sheltered in our luxury fortresses, we’ve sharpened our enhanced perception of risk, and erected an advanced warning, global positioning radar of risk assessment. Yet, the wider the moats, the higher the walls, the more our security seems jeopardized. Where is the absolute equation of refuge? Is it asking too much to be invincibly protected in the error-prone wasteland of the melting pot? When carbon nano-fibers confirm the singularity and molecular machines become self-healing and self-replicating, what then? Acute fear? Totalitarian fear? Are we on a quest to distill fear into its deadliest form? Outfitted with our accentuated perceptions of fear, we have navigated toward an aversion to discomfort of any kind. In an increasingly eccentric, sterile, but clearly still hazardous world, catering to the overly protected, overly troubled population inching their way toward a bondage to comfort, a mandatory aversion to being cold, hot, wet, thirsty, hungry or bored. By now, as our instincts and hardiness continue to fail us, we drift off course from original species strengths, practical achievements and intimate associated, primal joys. The wild boy of Aveyron ‘rescued’ from the forest of France around the age of twelve in 1799, could sit exposed for hours in the cold rain. He could lift hot coals from the fire with his bare hands. On the inside, he spent his days by the window looking longingly at the moon and the forest.[3] He was wild. He wanted out. But his kindly captors trained him to crave comforts and he lost his feral vigor. We’re a lot like him, implausibly altered versions of our former savage selves, domesticated into ghosts and apparitions. As the present tightens its grip on urgency, we pass our days within a system of nesting shells, layers of security, walls within walls, each one more costly, forbidding and impregnable than the one before. But what happens when pressures from all other species, and the demands of the Earth’s extremes, are removed? Diamonds fail to crystallize. Coal does not solidify. Species die out or unwind back into plasmids. Muscles atrophy. Inertia takes over. For us, species essence and genetic promise have corroded into a dependent lethargy. Crippled by machines and dependent on them, fluent in the jargon of compliance, how can we ever again comprehend our lost potential? How could a courageous, healthy future ever materialize among us? Rachel Carson once wrote of “the irony of our accomplishments.” Did she mean that living is a risk technology can never wholly minimize? Or, is there another New World out there waiting for us beyond this one? Is there a permanent demilitarized no-fire zone, a green zone, an archdiocese of absolute impregnable asylum? Or is it the human race, but with another meaning? It’s called the “revenge effect”—unanticipated negative consequences of new technologies. Infinite fallibilities. Legacy defects. So much risk that the messages sent out in Voyager must have fallen out of date by now. Perhaps the gold, anodized disc should have suggested a declaration of technological wariness. By the time it reaches anyone we will have begun to suspect we’re not immortal. Those that find it may already suffer from the blindness that afflicts us. From vacuum tubes to solid state and digital dementia, we memorize the electronic hierarchies, sit back and wait for them to happen. From hostile take-over to hostile nations, to failed-state syndrome, we’ve seeded distressed signals of endangerment into the airspace of our exceptionally moribund version of paradise. So much has happened since the pilgrims faced off with the forests and the wild men. Not even the prophets among them could have predicted it. The tentative pioneers thought the howling wilderness was dangerous. Now their fear has grown and endangers everything. Nature was subdued, the price alarmingly high. It’s sad to win and realize you have won nothing. We’ve become the fragile cyberian wanderers who submitted to fear and built a world -dependent on it. Daily life has become a kind of war we never counted on. The newest fear? That the wounds of our discontent now run too deep to ever heal. Some say technology is innocent—it is the human mind that sins. But that’s just linguistic mockery of real events. From the day that the first sword was raised, the sword has punished us. We’ve become the master criminals, but childlike, and incapacitated. Technology has generated an implausibly plundered planet, lifted us from the primordial past, tempted and tormented us. Ancient aptitudes have been bred out. Silhouettes of grandeur lie emulsified in doubt. Technology has created non-remedial, chronic fear where only natural fear existed before it. As Chilean social critic, Ariel Dorfman wrote in The Empire’s Old Clothes, there‘s been “destruction of inner fears….survival of nightmares.”[4]

[1] Atkinson, Brooks. This Bright Land. Doubleday Natural History Press. 1972. [2] Mumford, Louis. The Myth of the Machine: Pentagon of Power. A Harvest/HBJ Book. 1970. [3] Lane, Harlan L. The Wild Boy of Aveyron. Harvard University Press. 1996. [4] Dorfman Ariel. The Empire’s Old Clothes: What the Lone Ranger, Babar, and other Innocent Heroes Do To Our Minds. Duke University Press. 2010. Pg 180.

Tags: 

green

Black and Green Review

sky hiatt

category: 

Essays

Get your Latest News From The Leftist Front on LeftPress.tk → Help Us Gather News (Click for Details) ← From: http://anarchistnews.org/content/fear-factor via anarchistnews.org