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krishakamal · 9 months

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𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐀

— Dwarkadhish x Dwarakeshwari

🦚 SYNOPSIS : When Krishna can't see his priya frowning in sadness, so, he comes up with a way to cheer her up.

🦚 KAMAL'S NOTE : This is just a work of fiction and nothing to do with the actual events. I just wanted to write something for Maa Rukmini and Krishna since there is not much. Hopefully I didn't cross the line. This fic made me hate the word 'hand' to be honest 😮‍💨. The devider is from this post.

Kamalnayan = Lotus like eyes, Sri = Mahalakshmi/Rukmini, Nupur = Anklet, Aradhya = Adored one, Arya = Honorable one.

Sweet wind blew past the raven locks, forcing them to dance on the rhythm with it. Dwarakeshwari, Rukmini Maharani, sat on the edge of the majestic water fountain. Her hand playing with the rippling cold water. The full moon shone brightly in the night's sky. The reflection of the moon in the water made Rukmini appear glowing.

Everything happened so suddenly. One day, she was writing a letter to Kanha to come and save her and the next she is now married to the said Manohari. Few days ago she came to Dwarka with her husband. People here are loving and welcoming to her but Rukmini could not help but miss her father and brothers.

Since day one she was their beloved princess but everything changed when Rukmi decided to prioritise his political friends and hate towards Krishna over her. Going against Rukmini, he rejected Krishna when he asked for her hand in marriage and then he fixed her marriage to that demon, Shishupal. Still, Rukmini loved her brother and wanted the best for them.

"Can't sleep?"

A sweet voice broke the silence of the night. Her hand stopped it's action. Rukmini heard quite footsteps advancing towards her as her heartbeat sped up. Even after loving him for years and being married to hi, Rukmini couldn't help but blush whenever he was around her.

Krishna walked up to Rukmini and sat right behind her. Their eyes met through the waters reflection but Rukmini averted her eyes away as a feeling of shyness took over, making Krishna chuckle. His wife, his Sri, can look into others eyes and put them in their places but she can't even look her Shyam. Oh! How much he yearns to see those beautiful kamalnayan.

"Could not sleep?" Krishna asked again, this time even more softer.

Rukmini nodded her head, giving him a quiet 'hum'. Krishna dipped his hand in water. Taking her hand in his, Krishna swayed them, feeling water pass through their fingers.

"So, what is bothering my beloved?"

Rukmini remained silent for a moment before speaking, "I was thinking about my people back home."

"Is that so?" Krishna wishpered, "Do you regret marrying me and coming he—"

Before he could finish, Rukmini had turned around and slammed her hand over his mouth, "What are you saying Madhav? I can never."

Rukmini felt his lips curling up into a smile against her palm. Krishna held her hand by his both hands and brought them down. But instead of letting go, Krishna clutches it even firmer.

"You are finally looking at me."

Rukmini gasped at the realisation and all the heat raised up her cheeks. As she quickly looked, Krishna took her chin between two fingers and made her face him again. Rukmini kept her head down.

Hay Bhagwan! My shy wife. Madhav thought to himself.

"Would you like to go somewhere......With me?" Krishna asked.

Rukmini nodded her head without any hesitation. Krishna stood up and held out a hand for her, "Sri?"

Rukmini placed her hand in and got up. Then Krishna started leading them out of the golden palace. They walked for at least 60 vighaṭi but neither of them seemed to mind. By day Krishna is mostly busy with work and Rukmini also has to play the mother goddess she is.

They don't get much time to spend together other than the night. They walked through the furnished road, hand in hand, under the starry night. At the end of the city was a forest. Krishna led her into it.

Moonlight failed to enter through the cover of tall tree branches. As the forest went darker, Rukmini, unknowingly, brought herself closer to Krishna. Though Krishna saw that, he didn't say anything because seeing how shy his Sri is, she might pull away.

"How far is the place, Madhav?" Rukmini asked when the road seemed to be endless. They couldn't stay out long. As the king and queen of Dwarka, work was already on their shoulders.

"Just a little more Sri." Krishna whispered, giving her hand a firm squeeze.

They walked a little more when Krishna suddenly stopped. Rukmini looked at him confused. Krishna released her hand and held up the jewelled flute. As Rukmini held the flute with care, Krishna went behind her and palmed over her eyes.

"Ma-Madhav?"

"Just a little more to go." Krishna whispered in her ear.

Rukmini trusted and started forwarding. Losing the ability to see, her other senses became stronger. The forest was silent. The sweet sound of their nupur chiming echoed through the silent woodland accompanied by occasional hooting of owls.

Krishna came to an abrupt stop, "Ready?"

Rukmini nodded impatiently, "Yes, Madhav."

Krishna slowly removed his hands. A bright light blinded Rukmini for a moment. She blinked her eyes to adjust to the light and when she saw scenery before her all she could do was gasp in surprise.

The place was glowing compared to the rest of the dark forest. Fireflies dancing with each other. Beautiful flowers are blooming all over the place. Birds like peacocks, parrots, owls, flying like it's broad daylight. Then there is deers, red panda, horses and many more playing like friends.

"Madhav, what place is this? This looks like it is Vaikuntha."

"This place is Divya aranya. Do you like it?"

"This place is heavenly. Why didn't you bring me here earlier?" Rukmini breathed out, failing to look away.

Krishna sat on the ground with his hack leaning on a big tree. While Rukmini admired the magical forest, Krishna admired his ārādhya. Her eyes sparkled like gold, taking in everything. When she was done she came and sat beside Madhav.

"How did this come here?" Rukmini felt like a child, seeing the world for the first time even though she herself was Devi Mahalakshmi.

"That…….is a story for another time. Just know that there was this man who created this place because he couldn't see his priya frowning in sadness." Mischievousness swimmed in his eyes.

Rukmini smiled with a knowing look. She really had completely forgotten about her previous sadness with her brother. Which gave Krishna relief. The last thing he wanted was for her to be sad. That too in his presence.

Rukmini felt a different sense of boldness as she dropped her head on his shoulder. When the sun goes up they will be pulled into the same work routine. So, Rukmini wanted to savour these moments as much as possible.

"Can we stay here a little longer?" Rukmini asked softly and he replied back, "As long as you want."

Rukmini's eyes fell on the flute in her hand, the divine flute that everyone praises.

"Arya, you have never played your flute for me, have you?"

Krishna laughed, "Every rag, every sur, every dhun that I play, is for you, my Sri. If not you, then I have no reason to even exist."

He sure is a ladies' man. Rukmini thought as her cheeks became red.

Rukmini gave him his flute back, "Play something for me, won't you, Arya?"

"Anything for you, Sri."

Krishna took the flute, placing his lips on it, he started playing the most madhur dhun she had ever heard. The aranya became more joyful, birds danced with the melody, animals became hypnotised with how enchanting it was.

And Darkeswari drifted into the dreamland with her head resting on her beloved's shoulder and hearing the madhur dhun.

All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.

#krishmini #—Krishakamal #kamal writes #vishnu #hindu mythology #mahabharat #hindublr #hindu gods #hindusim #hinduism #Krishna #rukmini #krishna x rukmini #dwarka #sanatan dharma #madhav #lakshmi #Lakshmi Narayan #rukmini x shyam

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thoreau-up · 7 days

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Maybe this is autism, maybe i’m just insecure, but i really dislike how I can’t feel ownership over my own face.

When I look in the mirror or photos I don’t innately feel that my face is my face, and I feel like that’s something other people feel without even a thought. I’m always thinking to myself, “This is you,” every time I look in the mirror. Now I don’t have to think about it that much because i’ve luckily Pavlov’ed myself over the years, but I still don’t feel that it’s my face. It’s like my face is on loan from its actual owner and, naturally, I want to give it back so I can have my own. I have this habit of examining old photos of my parents, searching for any trace of genetic likeness from me to them, trying to scientifically will my brain into understanding that this is, indeed, my face. I can understand science. Genetically, I look like a mix of my parents; that is me. I look at my brother and see shared likeness between us. His face is like my face, but I wonder if he owns his.

But I also don’t feel like my being has a face. It’s either just a reflection of my current peers or nothingness. I don’t like knowing that people see this face and associate it with me because it’s not me. It’s like a mask I can’t take off (haha, mask, masking, I see that). I feel most like myself when I dissolve the concept of having a body from me, like pretending i’m not stuck in this temporary meat suit. I feel most like me when I forget i have a body and lose myself in things, hobbies, activities, laughs, etc. I am a verb, not a noun. I am the seeing in the mirror, not the subject reflected back.

#Learning the Dharma and following Buddhism has helped the inner conflict i have about my temporary meatsuit #I’ve found a lot of comfort in knowing that in my next life i’ll get a new one that’ll look completely different #maybe it won’t even be a meat suit #but perhaps i’ll be a plant #i’d like to be a tree #it’s funny how i wanted to write this post all day not knowing that autism is trending on tumblr rn #i guess it was a good time to have these thoughts #autism #neurodivergent #thoreauing up

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hotchs-bitch · 1 year

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Fluffy Feb Day 28- Comfort Sex [Greg Montgomery]

Warnings: established relationship, praise kink, some dumbification, overstimulation, oral sex (both receiving), condescending Greg, p in v sex, comfort sex but make it a little kinky because February can be very tough and I know the girlies are struggling rn (I am one of the girlies)

Pairing: Greg Montgomery x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: big love to @greg-montgomery for reading it over, and inspiring me to write this, and to @doctorstethoscope for putting on this amazing event❤️ this is the first thing I’ve written for a non CM character, so please let me know what you think! Happy fluffy feb, folks. That’s a wrap

“Hi, honey!” The predictable kiss to your cheek when Greg sets his briefcase down should make you feel better, but the smile you force makes him pause. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The lie rolls off your tongue with ease. You’re fine. “How was your day?”

“It was Anderson’s last day, so Pete brought a few strippers into the office. Oh, and I finished up that divorce settlement that’s been dragging on.” Greg’s jacket comes off and he hangs it on the coat rack before moving toward the sofa. “My mother wants us to come over for dinner on Friday to discuss the charity luncheon. It’s for sick horses, or maybe women, I think; she either said ‘equestrian’ or ‘equality’, but the stripper music was really loud.”

“So a normal day, for you.” Your teasing falls a little flat, and he frowns as he sits down next to you on the sofa.

“I guess. Hey, what’s going on? Where’s that smile?” His coaxing doesn’t have the effect he’s looking for, you’re sure. Instead, your chin wobbles and you let out a huff of annoyance. “Talk to me. Come on.”

“Everyone’s just… everyone is an idiot,” you snap, catching yourself off-guard with the fury behind your words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s just, I feel like I’m the only person at work who has a brain and knows how to use it, and I feel like I’m doing everything, and now my boss is mad at me because I’ve made a few mistakes because I’ve been doing everyone else’s job, and now we have this luncheon to worry about for your mother’s horses, and-”

“Hey.” His voice is sharp, and one hand encircles your wrist. “Just breathe. Don’t apologize to me. I want you to tell me this kind of stuff, honey, you know that. Is anything else bothering you?”

The laundry list of things that have been annoying you seems meagre when you actually have to say it out loud. “I got stuck on the way to work behind a car that didn’t use its turn signal,” you mumble. “And the diner was out of sandwiches when I went there for lunch because they didn’t make enough to last all day. It’s all dumb stuff, I’m just tired.”

“It’s not dumb. If it’s bothering you, it’s not dumb,” Greg promises. “What can I do to help? Just say the word.”

You huff again, ignoring the way his lips twitch at the sound. “I don’t know. I just feel like you and I are the only people in the world who have two brain cells to rub together, and I’m tired of it. I spend every single day thinking for everyone and fixing things they should fix, and doing things they should be doing.”

Greg puts one arm around your shoulders, pulling you in sideways. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dragging his lips against your cheek in a long kiss. “You know what I think?”

“That I should get promoted? Or at least, get in less trouble?” You grumble, allowing him to pull you close. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, yes,” he agrees after a second. “Of course. But I can’t do that. What I can do is, I can turn your pretty little brain off for a while.”

Oh. That’s not what you were expecting to hear, but it sounds nice. “I just don’t want to think,” you mumble, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. “It’s too much.”

“I know it is, baby. Come on, it’s okay,” he soothes. One of his hands slides down your side, seamlessly unbuttoning your pants. “Can I? Let me take care of you.”

That’s the magical sentence, the key to the kingdom, and you nod in answer. Your eyes start to flutter shut when his fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, but you force yourself to keep them open so you can look at him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs again, leaning in to line your neck with kisses. “No need to think. You’re mine, remember? And I take good care of what’s mine.”

It’s true, he does, and you can already feel yourself going fuzzy around the edges when he circles your clit with one finger. “Mm…”

You feel his smile against your skin, that self-satisfied smirk he wears whenever he turns you to putty. “That’s it. Just take it, just like that. My good girl’s already getting so wet for me, so perfect.”

Greg won’t push a finger in until you’re dripping; you know that from experience. One of his fingers keeps circling your clit, and he uses his other hand to push down your shirt and bra, giving him access to thumb at your nipple.

“I’ll, I can take it off,” you offer, already thinking about sliding off your shirt and unclasping your bra, and Greg sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder in warning.

“I’ll take it off when I want it off,” he promises. “Stop trying so hard. You’re mine, I’m in charge here. You’re going to get what I give you, yeah? You’ve got a safeword. If you aren’t saying it, you’re taking what you get.”

“Y-yeah.” Your breath hitches through the word when he pinches your nipple, his finger rubbing you faster with more and more pressure as the seconds pass.

His hand moves down slightly, and he groans into your ear when he swipes a finger through your folds to discover how wet you are. “That’s it. Is this turning you on, hm? You like it when I take good care of my princess?” One finger moves back to rub at your clit, lubricated with your arousal.

When he pulls his head away from your shoulder, you bury his face in his neck. It hardly muffles your moans, or your whines of, “Gonna, I need to, please,” against his skin.

“Come for me,” he coaxes. “You don’t have to ask, it’s okay. All over my hand, just like that, go ahead.”

The permission is like a release all on its own, and you moan unabashedly into him as you come, shaking and writhing against him as you grind down onto his hand.

His finger stays steady against you, working you through your orgasm while you whimper into his neck. When he doesn’t stop playing with your clit, you pull back with a soft groan.

“Was good,” you sigh out, and Greg kisses you sweetly without his rhythm faltering. “I’m- oh, I’m good, baby, thank you.”

“Very good,” he agrees, his voice soft and husky against your lips. “I’ve got such a good girl. You can come again, good girl, I know you can.”

“Greg…” You squirm under him, pleasure mounting quickly as your first orgasm starts to build into your second without letting you come down first.

He shushes you, kissing your neck again as you come undone on his fingers a second time, your orgasm cresting like a soft wave. “You can take it, just like that. So wet for me, sweetheart, so perfect.” The praise kisses your ears as he kisses you again, finally, blissfully withdrawing his hand as you take a deep breath.

Several deep breaths later, you start to return to yourself. The orgasms weren’t fireworks, or mind-blowing. They were good, of course, but they washed over you in a gentle wave of pleasure rather than making you cry out or making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Ready for more?” He asks with another slow kiss, and you pull back to blink at him.

“More?” You echo, and Greg chuckles at that.

Standing up off the couch, he offers you one hand and you take it. “Yes, more,” he promises, leading you toward the bedroom. “My girl hasn’t had enough yet. I want to hear you beg.”

The bed is soft beneath you when he lays you back, skimming both hands down your eyes before slowly- painfully slowly- tugging your pants and underwear down until they hit the floor. “I want to taste you,” you mumble, and he grins.

Something about sucking him off, having the most intimate part of him under your control, never fails to drive you crazy. Some days, he comes home to find you already on your knees because you crave the taste of him so badly. Although, ever since one incident where you’d nicked the head of his dick with one of your teeth, he has a new… approach.

“You think you can take it? Already, baby, but you need to be careful,” he warns. “Remember, my good girl knows how to listen. You can unzip me.”

His zipper comes down so fast that it’s almost comical, and when he gives permission you push his pants and boxers off while he discards his shirt.

“I want it.” Your voice is breathless as you eye his hard cock, hard enough to be standing up when he lays back on the bed.

“I know you do,” he says, his voice equal parting soothing and husky. “Okay, greedy girl. You remember what to do?”

This part always frustrates you; the way he talks like you’ve never blown him before, like you’ve never had him whining for your touch. “I know,” you huff, and he wraps one hand in your hair to steady it against the back of your head.

He continues talking like he hasn’t heard you. “First, you can grip it. Stroke nice and slow, get me ready. Stick out your tongue, that’s it. Look how fast my girl is learning.”

You’re perched between his thighs, one hand gripping his hairy leg while you take his cock in your other hand and stroke it. Nice and slow, just like he said, and when you see a bead of pre-cum your tongue slides out of your open mouth of its own volition.

“I’m ready,” you insist, and Greg twists his hand in your hair just tight enough to hurt. “I am! I’m ready, I can do it.”

“You can do it if you can follow instructions,” he corrects you. “Tap the head on your tongue, sweetheart. Let me feel that mouth.”

“Could feel more of my mouth,” you mumble, but he ‘tsk’s at that until you follow his direction.

“Not yet, I can’t,” he sighs while he watches you, sympathetic. “Now, maybe if my greedy girl weren’t a safety hazard, we could do this however you want. But for now, you’re listening to me.”

You want to complain about that, but then he’s got his free hand steadying your jaw. “Open up more,” he murmurs, and your jaw drops obediently. “Good girl. If I feel anything other than that tongue and those pretty lips, I’m going to edge you until you cry. And we don’t want that, do we?”

He uses the hand tangled in your hair to shake your head for you. “No, we don’t.” He answers his own question, then slowly pushes into your mouth. “Just like that, good girl,” he praises. “You can stroke the rest of it, for now. You feel so good, I don’t want to finish too soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to his instructions, bobbing your head only as much as he allows you to. Drool escapes your mouth, making the glide of your hand on his cock smoother, and you shift with excitement when you hear him sigh in pleasure.

You’re doing it. You’re being his good girl, following his instructions so perfectly, and if you could live out the rest of your days with your head between his thighs and his hands holding you in place, you surely would. It’s blissful, the familiar weight of him in your mouth, grounding you.

Time passes- how much, you can’t say- and Greg lets you get closer, take a little more of him. He even lets you suckle at his sac at one point before guiding you back up to his cock and thrusting shallowly; something he does so rarely that it feels like a reward for you when he does. He pumps into your mouth, once, twice, and you can feel him twitch against your tongue before he pulls out completely.

“Didn’t finish,” you complain, and he shuts you up by pulling you closer up on the bed with the hand in your hair and kissing you.

“I know, baby,” he soothes when you’ve broken apart, discarding your shirt and bra to the floor. “I know. But you got to taste, and now I can make my girl feel so good, can’t I?”

“Fuck me.” It’s half demand, half plea, and Greg is having none of it.

“Not yet.” He lays you back on the bed and gets between your thighs, kissing a line down your neck. When you whine with impatience, two of his fingers nudge your lips. “Suck on those, sweetheart. You can be good for a little longer.”

He’s right, you can be, so you eagerly suck the digits into your mouth as his lips caress your breasts, then your stomach, then your upper thighs while he slides down the bed. “Mm,” you protest around the fingers when you spread your legs for him, and he doesn’t immediately dive between them, instead pulling the fingers out of your mouth and tracing your nipple with saliva.

Sucking his cock has gotten you worked up again, and you’re ready for one of those mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasms that only he can give you. Luckily, he acquiesces after a long moment, wrapping his lips around your clit to suck. Hard.

His tongue pushes into you, curling and probing perfectly, and he pulls off after a minute just to murmur, “Come when you’re ready,” and then he’s back on you with fervour. When you do come, your back arches and you cry out and this time you definitely see fireworks, but he’s still not stopping. “Again,” he insists, panting into your skin as his tongue flicks against your clit and you moan.

Both of your hands are tangled in his hair by the time he pulls away, and by then you’ve got no idea how many times you’ve finished. Orgasm has blurred into orgasm, one continuous stream of pleasure that has you blinking away tears and breathing heavily when Greg comes up for air. His chin is wet, his eyes sinfully dark, and he’s still got a stupid smirk on his face, and if you could possibly come again you would probably do it just from looking at him.

“Just a few more,” he promises you, fisting his cock. It’s an angry purple, the bedsheet under him spotted with pre-cum, and you moan aloud at the idea of him enjoying eating you out so much that’s turning him on. His promise of ‘a few more’ doesn’t even register, at first. You’re drunk off the feel of his tongue, unable to form a sentence if you tried, and you need him inside you now.

“Please.” It’s a whine, and Greg grins at your needy pout while he kisses you. “Please, I need it.”

“I know you do,” he whispers. “Can you ride me? Can my princess handle that?”

You shake your head, no, you can’t handle it. Your legs are trembling and achy, you’ve come too many times, and you couldn’t move right now if you tried.

Instead of getting frustrated, Greg just chuckles while he pushes your legs back open. “No?” He teases, pressing the head of his cock against your hole. He pushes the head in slightly, then pulls it out just to hear your lewd moan at the loss. “Did I make my good girl so dumb she can’t even ride me? I’ve been so nice to you, sweetheart, and you can’t help your man out?”

Tears prick at your eyes as you nod furiously. “M sorry,” you gasp out, willing your legs to spread further for him. His thumb grazes your clit again and you flinch, overstimulated. “It’s, it’s too much, I can’t.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” His grin doesn’t falter as his thumb speeds up, pressing directly on the bundle of nerves until your eyes roll back and your back arches off the bed. “I’ll forgive you if you can come again, how’s that sound?”

It sounds impossible, but the way he’s giving you no reprieve is starting to make you shake under him all over again. “Can’t, I can’t, please!”

“I think you can.” He presses his cock into you again, hardly an inch. “You love it when I do this, you love being my dumb baby. You beg for it. Soak my cock, get it nice and wet so I can fuck you.”

Your whimper almost breaks the sound barrier, you swear. Greg’s thumb doesn’t slow down or break the rhythm at all when you try to squirm away, and he pins you down with one hand on your abdomen. “Please, please, please, please!”

It’s hard to tell what you’re begging for now, but he doesn’t care. His tongue pokes out in concentration, staring down at your pussy as you clench around the head of his cock. When his eyes dart up, connecting with yours, you shatter.

It’s like falling off a skyscraper, becoming a firework, a train of pleasure colliding with your body as you howl. Words escape you and your mouth falls open in a silent scream when he finally, blissfully, pushes in the rest of the way. You can’t focus on him or the way he cups your cheek or the words he mumbles, you can’t focus on anything except the slick drag of his cock inside you.

“Knew you could do it,” he pants, squeezing your jaw a little. “So pretty when you come for me, baby.”

“Greg, Greg, Greg-” You’re gasping out his name with each punctuated thrust, the only word in your brain now. You can’t even remember your own name, you’re so fuzzy.

“Did I get my girl all stupid?” He croons, grinning down at you with that sinisterly innocent smile. “Oh, I did. Look at those pretty eyes. All glazed over, not a single thought in there. You like my cock that much, princess? Hm?”

“Mhm, mm,” you moan behind closed lips, and you hear his chuckle.

“I thought so. You like it when I treat you good? When I rub that clit until you can’t breathe?” Your sharp inhale follows the sound of him spitting onto his hand, reaching down to roll circles around the swollen bud. “I know you need it, baby, you can do it.”

There are tears streaming down your face now, and you hardly know when they started. You’re too overwhelmed with pleasure, you can hardly stand it, you don’t know how much longer you can go. You don’t want to stop, that’s the only thing you know. He’s in charge, like he always tells you. He knows best, you’re his dumb baby, and you can take whatever he gives you, you can.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos when you don’t try to argue. “Just like that. I’m thinking for you, remember? You’re all mine. You’re going to let me keep playing with this pretty pussy, aren’t you?”

Swallowing a sob, you can only nod as he kisses you again. You let him invade your mouth as you grip his back, leaving scratches that are sure to burn but he only hisses in pleasure. You’re being so good that you’re almost dizzy with the thought of it, so good for him, he’s mumbling into your mouth that you’re so fucking perfect and it makes you shudder in pleasure.

It can’t be possible for your body to come again, but it also shouldn’t be possible for one man to be so perfect, and you think that Greg can find a way to do anything. When you start to feel that familiar twist in your belly you whine, and he pulls his hand away, and you don’t know if you’re disappointed or relieved.

“Can I come?” He asks, breathless, just what you’ve been waiting for, and he places his hand on your stomach. “Right here, can I fill you up?”

The sigh of relief he lets out when you nod is orgasmic in its own right. He thrusts again, once, twice more, and then you can feel him flooding your insides like he promised, filling you up with him. “Good girl,” he gasps out as he ruts through it, crushing his lips to yours as you kiss back hazily, messily.

Instead of collapsing on the bed when he pulls out, he immediately moves back down your body and mouths at your hip. “I’m gonna clean you up,” he says, gazing up at you as his lips trail lower and he sucks a mark on your inner thigh. “One more, on my tongue. My good girl can do it.”

Truthfully, you don’t know if you can. You feel weighed down, boneless, and the idea of ever coming again sounds impossible. But you’re good for him, you’re his good girl, you’re his, so you just nod.

“Eyes on me,” he whispers, and he keeps his gaze locked on you as- fuck, as his tongue pushes inside you and curls, lapping up the taste of himself before it can leak out of you. Greg moans against you, into you, and as soon as you can feel your arms again you place one hand in his hair. It’s damp with sweat, the locks sliding through your fingers, and when you tangle your fingers in it to keep a grip on him he only licks harder.

Your hips rock up off the bed to meet his mouth, and his nose bumps against your clit as he tries to get even closer to you. Once he’s satisfied with cleaning his cum out of you he pulls back, still holding eye contact with you, and you see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

You must have died, several orgasms ago. This must be heaven.

Greg latches back onto your clit in a frenzy, sucking hard as he rolls his tongue over the bud, and a fresh stream of tears escapes you when you sob, yanking his hair hard, chanting yes, yes, yes, and please, Greg, fuck, as you come undone on his tongue like you have so many times tonight.

His tongue laves over you as you come down, an unspoken apology to your overused pussy, and he pulls away after you whine softly. Your hands release his hair and he moves up the bed, kissing you gingerly.

This might be your favourite part; lying in his arms in the afterglow, with no need to do or say or think. “Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs once you’ve settled into him. “You did so well for me. How’s my best girl doing?”

Words haven’t returned to you yet; maybe they never will. When he wraps one arm around your shoulders, you roll over on your side to nestle your head in your favourite spot between his jaw and his collarbone and hum with contentment.

“So perfect,” he praises, and you turn your face into the crook of his neck. He loves to praise you, especially afterwards, and you both know how badly you want- no, need- to hear it, but it still gets you embarrassed sometimes. “You took me so well, sweet girl. I’m so proud of you.”

“Sorry.” Your voice is raspy, your throat dry, and your words are muffled against him. “Couldn’t ride you, Greg. ‘M sorry.”

“Hey,” he pulls back just enough to kiss the side of your head, “No apologizing. You could never let me down, angel. You’re so perfect for me, all the time.” When you relax back against him, he continues speaking, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Honestly, after all that, I’ll be impressed if you can even walk.”

There might be a challenge in his tone, or maybe you’re just imagining it, because when you hmph indignantly he lets out a tranquil sigh and starts stroking soothing lines down your back with the hand wrapped around you. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s not find out tonight. You deserve some rest. Do you need anything else?”

After a moment, you inhale deeply. You’re surrounded by the scent and feel and voice of the man you love. The taste of him is still in your mouth, and you’ve got a perfectly-captured image in your mind’s eye of the beautiful smile he gave you before he kissed you. You’ve got everything you need, and you shake your head to tell him that.

“Alright. You’ll let me know if you need anything, okay?” He waits for you to nod. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” you mumble. You want to hear more of him, you want him to speak until his is the only voice you recognize, so you ask the only thing you can think of short of asking him to read you the dictionary. “How was your day?”

A smile pulls at his lips, and you can see it in your head when you feel his jaw shift above you. It’s that lopsided smile that always makes you want to kiss him silly, you just know it is. “It was good. It was Anderson’s last day, and we had a party. How was your day, princess?”

You sigh against his skin, relaxing into his embrace like it’s a warm cloud you could sink into and never emerge from. “It was perfect.”

Fluffy Feb masterlist | < Prev Day

Fluffy Feb tags: @doctorsteths-fluffyfeb @iammirrorball @hausofwhores @allthefandomstogether @myweepingangel @hotched @spacecowboyhotch @chibsytelford @honeybrowne @formulapierre @nd264 @hotchnerxnegan1017 (send me a dm or ask to be tagged!)

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shuuumaaaaa-main · 1 year

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Area estimates of Teyvat as of Genshin Impact version 3.3: The Chasm (above ground) subregion of Liyue and the Dharma Forest subregion of Sumeru

This is my first long post regarding Genshin worldbuilding this year!

Here are various links to the writeup:

Reddit(r/Genshin_Lore) | Reddit(r/Genshin_Impact) | PDF

I paste here a copy of the abstract:

This is a continuation of the area and elevation estimates of various locations in Teyvat, following a line of work that started with areas accessible in Genshin Impact version 2.2 regarding analysis of in-game size and speculative in-lore size based on semi-historical and geographical details mentioned in the 2021 Moonchase Festival. The method is mainly a pixel to in-game then hypothetical in-lore direct conversion further compared with areas or phenomena that have similar magnitudes in real life. This study added area approximations for the above ground Chasm and Dharma Forest, Sumeru. The calculated sizes were briefly analyzed with respect to other regions in Teyvat and more extensively with respect to various real life places, institutions, and phenomena. The hypothetical in-lore size of the above ground Chasm was analyzed as an impact crater and was found to be comparable to some of the largest impact events on Earth. The in-game Chasm was similar to medium to large scale open-pit mines in real life. In a similar fashion, Dharma Forest and its various subareas were compared to various forests, cities, and academic institutions in real life, with emphasis on comparisons mostly with SSWANA countries. Overall I find that this particular conjectured in-lore conversion factor coupled with the hypothetical qualitative interpretation remains to be one reliable way to consistently resize the world of Genshin impact from in-game to plausibly realistic in-lore dimensions.

I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for reading.

#genshin impact #genshin impact studies #genshin studies #area estimate #原神 #genshin #teyvat #genshin liyue #chasm #sumeru #dharma forest #worldbuilding #writing #learning #measurement #liyue #genshin lore #genshin theory #mathematics

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eyeoftheheart · 3 months

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“The whole figure represents the perfect realization of one deep in contemplation of the Infinite, to whom all things have ceased to be save the divine realization of unity with the Omnipotent. There is some dispute as to whether this figure represents the Great Gautama Siddhartha or Amida Buddha, the Lord of Enlightened Love or the Buddha of Realization. In the last analysis, however, these two characters are so interwoven that, while it is generally understood to represent Amida, there is little doubt that these two personalities dissolve into one principle. The name Buddha is an honorary title meaning about the same as our word Christ or Savior. Its original interpretation, we understand, meant an opened or all-seeing Eye. A Buddha is one who has attained union with the real and eternal and has renounced all unrealities and temporal things, and has been released from the wheel of birth and death.”

(Kamakura, Japan December 24, 1923)

Collected Writings of Manly P. Hall Volume I Early Works

#Buddha #Buddhism #Philosophy of Enlightenment #Dharma #The Great Buddha at Kamakura #Manly P. Hall #Collected Writings of Manly P. Hall

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figureofdismay · 4 months

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Pitch: An absurdist dramady version of The X Files. Like in the style of Pushing Daisies or Northern Exposure. Or Arrested Development lol. where instead of being assigned together they meet at some kind of investigative seminar (or a new agey 'self discovery' thing Melissa dragged Scully to and Mulder's there investigating something or meeting someone?), and Mulder and Scully meet and instantly become inseparable and get married by the end of the conference and have to integrate their lives. It's like a supernatural version of 'Dharma and Greg' except instead of trying to mesh the hippy stoner astrology rebel family background on one side and the WASPy conservative rich family background on the other side, you've got the 'emotionally traumatized and involved in a massive conspiracy involving aliens and eugenics for profit' background and the 'boisterously eclectic middle class family of navy brats and moby dick fanatics' background on the other side.

Scully's a pathologist and Mulder's working the x-files with Jerry from Ghost in the Machine and later Jeffrey Spender, but they end up involved in each other's cases all the time while arguing about them. Samantha was taken but returned like a year/18 months later with no memory of what happened and she grew up feeling like such a freak because of it that she's obsessed with being very normal, so she thinks Mulder is too 'out there' and too overprotective, and doesn't want to believe in the conspiracy stuff. Scully and Samantha don't get along but Sam does think she's better than Diana. Who pops up from time to time to wreck havoc.

Carl Spender is openly Mulder's biological father because it came out when Teena divorced Bill, but he's still a megalomaniacal power monger in the center of a conspiracy and Mulder still hates him, he just also thinks that Mulder should acknowledge him as a 'decent father' because he hasn't let the syndicate outright kill him and hasn't targeted his new sort-of daughter in law. Mulder and Jeffrey know they are half brothers and Jeffry is insanely jealous both because 'Ol Smokey likes Mulder better (cares enough to taunt him instead of just ignoring him) and because Mulder's much better at investigating paranormal stuff. Jeffrey has also always had a crush on Samantha and is trying to protect her from the Syndicate, but Samantha thinks it's too weird that he's her brother's half brother and won't have anything to do with him.

Jeffrey's also jealous that Mulder got married and to such a normal woman from outside the pool of special conspiracy people when CGB will be expecting him to marry who he picks, so he keeps trying to set Scully up in the eyes of the Syndicate or the Bureau in retribution but she and Melissa have the opposite of CC's 'woman danger tragedy magnet syndrome' and effortlessly sidestep his incompetent little plots without hardly even noticing by simply being focused and intuitive.

Melissa is the only one from either of their families who thinks their being married is a good idea. Also Melissa ends up dating the Lone Gunmen. All of them, in a complicated poly situation that both Mulder and Scully are mildly alarmed by this but it's actually very sweet.

Scully's friend Ellen is concerned that Scully doesn't seem to see how suddenly and wildly insane her life became, kind of like becoming a mob wife but with bugs and goo and aliens, but Scully shrugs it off because it's interesting and she has Mulder now so that part's good, plus he needs her, and you can't choose your in-laws can you.

#txf #msr #i don't even know okay #the thought just popped into my head and while I would love to write a series of minisodes to flesh this out #my ability to focus just hasn't been there since like june #but the concept popped into my head fully formed while browsing hulu (dharma & greg listed right above the x files lol) and it made me laug #and also feel insane while picturing these characters as processed through heavier absurdism filters #feel free to tell me i've snapped under the weight of 20 years of wrestling with this show's canon bc i probably have 🤣💀

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wisdom-and-such · 11 months

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“Also learn that the entire universe is the karma body of the self. To seek to know the self is invariably the wish of living beings. However, those who see the true self are rare... People outside the way regard what is not the self as the self. But what buddhas call the self is the entire universe. Thereore, there is never an entire universe that is not the self, with or without knowing it. On this matter defer to the words of the ancient buddhas”.

- Dogen ‘Treasury of the True Dharma Eye’

#dogen #treasury of the true dharma eye #dharma eye #karma body #universe #buddha #enlightenment #zen buddhism #buddhism #buddhist #literature #japanese #writing #good books #spirituality #learning #yoga

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troutfur · 6 months

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Now that I got to the part with the park cats and Frostpaw's adventures in what I'm sure is gonna be portrayed as watered down McMindfulness I wanna briefly mention that I have sometimes idly thought of a xenofiction story taking place in the grounds of a Buddhist monastery that'd be a cross between WC and The Buddha's Law Among the Birds.

#I'd write more of it if I was more well-versed in Buddhist philosophy's take on obligate carnivores #in Mahayana philosophy all sentient beings have Buddha nature and can achieve enlightenment in this lifetime #but given the whole precept against killing practicing dharma would be... hard to say the least #buddhist posting on the WC blog seems to be a reocurring theme this November

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thelunarbar · 2 years

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Patience - Icemav

-/-/-/-

The bedroom is perfect. Maverick can’t help but smile as he puts the finishing touches on the bed. The bedspread is a dark purple with pink and blue flowers and leaves and little orange foxes all over it. The sheets are soft purple, one pillow case matches them while the other matches the comforter. He places a stuffed fox and a stuffed brown dog at the head of the bed.

Several months ago they even repainted the walls(a pale peachy color) to give them more character, and bought a rug for the floor, one of those super fuzzy ones that’s neon green. They had strung fairy lights up across the ceiling and had filled a three shelf bookcase with picture books and easy readers.

They’re preparing for the little girl they’re fostering and hoping to adopt. She’s four. Her parents both died in a car accident and no other family has been found yet.

“It looks perfect, baby.” Mav turns to see Ice standing in the doorway, smiling.

“You think so?” Mav glances around and Ice can sense his anxiety. He steps into the room and wraps his arms around Mav’s waist.

“She’s going to love it.” Ice tells him, tightening his grip and pressing a kiss to Mav’s temple. Mav turns so he can wrap his arms around Ice.

They’d become foster parents roughly two years ago(they were also on several adoption agencies’ lists), but had yet to be given a placement. Until yesterday when they’d finally received the call. There was a little girl named Josie in need of a home and could they take her in? There was no hesitation in their reply. Absolutely.

And now she was going to be there within the hour.

“Have you figured out what to make for dinner yet?” Mav asked, words muffled as he spoke into Ice’s chest.

“Alfredo with broccoli and chicken. And bread.” Mav nodded and Ice rubbed his back. “Speaking off, I should go get started on it.” He pressed another kiss to Mav’s temple before letting him go. Ice heads for the door, stopping when he notices Mav still standing in the middle of the room. “Come on. No more fiddling. It’s perfect.” He grabs Mav’s hand and pulls him out of the room.

In the kitchen Ice starts to prep dinner while Mav sits on the counter, kicking his legs and tapping on the counter.

Ice’s phone rings. He wipes his hands on the dish towel over his shoulder before pulling it out of his pocket. He contemplates the number for a moment before answering it.

“Hello? Speaking.” He’s quiet and Mav watches intently. “Oh. No, no, of course. That’s wonderful.” Ice frowns, a serious contrast to his words and turns so his back is to Mav, “no, no, we completely understand. Yes. Of course. We’re always willing.” He ends the call and lets his arm fall limp. He throws his phone on the counter and grabs the edge of the counter with both hands.

“Ice?” Nothing. “Tom?” Mav is getting concerned now. He slides off the counter and steps up beside Ice. “Tom, what’s going on?”

“They found her grandparents.” Ice says, voice just above a whisper. “She’s not coming.” Mav feels his heart sink to his stomach. A lump forms in his throat.

“Oh.” Is all he manages to say. “Well, well that’s good.” He forces the words out. Hating how much he doesn’t want to say them. Because it is good they found her real family, but he’d been so ready to take care of her and love her like his own.

“Pete-” Ice turns, but Mav has already left the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly Ice finds Mav in Josie’s bedroom. He’s sitting in the bed, the stuffed dog in his lap, he’s rubbing its ear between his thumb and forefinger.

“Pete. . .” Ice says as he enters the room. “You’re allowed to be upset she isn’t coming.” He tells Mav, kneeling on the floor between his knees.

“I’m a horrible person.” Mav says softly, refusing to look at Ice. “I know it’s a good thing they found her real family to take her in, but I can’t help being upset she’s not coming.”

“You’re not a horrible person. You have every right to have been excited she was coming and be upset that she’s not.” Ice rests his hand on Mav’s knee and rubs gently with his thumb.

“Maybe it just won’t happen for us.” Mav says, voice cracking.

“We still have time.” Ice assures him. “It’ll happen. We just have to be patient.” He continues rubbing Mav’s knee. “And in the meantime we have Bradley.” Well, they kind of have Bradley. He’s not a speaking terms with Mav at the moment, but he’s still talking to Ice.

“It’s taken us twenty one years of being together to even be allowed to hold hands in public.” Mav protests, grip tightening on the stuffed dog. “I don’t want to wait anymore to start our family.”

“I know patience isn’t your strong suit, but I promise, baby, this will happen for us.” Ice brings his other hand up to rest on Mav’s cheek. “We’re on all the lists. There will be another call.” Mav closes his eyes and lets the first tears fall.

“I was so ready to take care of her.” He murmurs.

“I know, baby.” Ice brushes the tears off his cheek. “I know.” He stands and pulls Mav against his chest. Mav wraps his arms around Ice’s middle and fists the fabric of his shirt and both hands. Ice feels tears prick his own eyes and holds Mav tighter.

And even though they both know there will be another call, no doubt more than one, that doesn’t make their current pain go away.

#top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #mine mine mine #mine #rie writes #my fic #angst #based loosely on an episode of Dharma & Greg #I can’t remember which one tho #icemav #and as always unbetad so all mistakes are mine please disregard #never fear I am planning a sequel with a much happier ending #patience series

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