#pole vault tips | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ash5monster01 · 12 days

Text

Goes On Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, depression, mentions of suicide, heavy topics, eventual smut, slow burn romance, fluff, gender themes/stereotypes.

Summary: Against his best efforts Charlie has to start at a new preparatory school after the tragic events that took place at Welton. The very events that led to the loss of his best friend and getting expelled in the first place. He has no plans to make friends let alone get close to anyone ever again. That is until he meets Evelyn and her interesting group of friends. No matter how hard he tries to push them away he finds it to be impossible. So he caves and in the end learns that life can still be enjoyable even if it feels like everyone is against you.

word count: 2.9k

Twelve ←→ Fourteen

Masterlist

Ridge Academy, NY

4/7/60

Thursday track meets were back in full swing. Charlie was not normally a nervous person but today he was rattling with nerves. He still wasn't fully confiendent in his pole vaulting abilities but there wasn't much he could do about it now. He had three events to participate in and no other choice. Next year he'll actually go for the sports he wanted but until then this would just have to suffice. Besides when the blisters and callouses started to hurt it brought him right back to the first night he kissed Evelyn and he wasn't so upset about it anymore. Smiling to himself he finished wrapping his one hand as he waited for his event to be called.

As for the girls they laid in the grass, patiently waiting for the events of each of the boys. It was the first time the three girls had been alone in a while and they were taking complete advantage. Laurie even came prepped with nail polish to do the girls nails as they waited the events between the ones they were there to watch. Evelyn laid completley still as the blonde girl did her fingers first since Violet had already broken into the snacks they also brought. Both of the girls noticed how a smile hadn't left Evelyn's face once, mind on the brunette boy that had completely captured her heart. She was so blissed out the girls used this as an oppurtunity to get all the information out of her they could.

"That is the sweetest story I've ever heard" Laurie cooed after Evelyn had just finished retelling the story of their first kiss. So far Charlie had been a dream boy, being everything she needed and more.

"I know, until Violet ruined it" Evelyn said with a giggle and the raven haired girl gasped and reached out to whack her friend.

"Hey, how was I supposed to know he was in there and you should be thanking me anyways. He never would've snuck into your room if it wasn't for him and Nate catching me on the boys floor" she defended and both the girls giggled at her words. Knowing the truth they held.

"Thank you Violet, next time stay in the boys dorms a little longer" Evelyn finally said around her giggles and Laurie laughed harder, rolling onto the ground beside the brunette. Leaving the nail polish behind. Violet just rolled her eyes but joined into the laughter as well, laying down herself, and enjoying the feeling of the warm sun on her skin.

"What about you Laurie, anything happen with Mr. Eli Johnson?" Evelyn asked, heading tipping to look at her, eyebrows moving up and down suggestively. Laurie just grinned, the soft shake of her head as she looked away from the girl and up to the clouds.

"Not really, I wanted it to but he wasn't a very good kisser. So I let him get to second base and called it a night" this response has Evelyn and Violet erupting in a fit of giggles and Laurie can't help but laugh herself at the memory of it all.

“How disappointing considering you were practically over the moon when he asked you” Violet points out and Evelyn grins wide, remembering how Laurie had barged into their room just to share the good news. Despite her wanting to go with another guy.

“It’s okay, I still haven’t quite given up on the Jay Adam’s dream anyway” she says, sly smile dancing across her lips and neither of the girls can say a word because that was their Laurie. Confident, cool, and queen of the school.

“Hey are we cheering or sleeping?” Marty suddenly lands on top of them all, eliciting shrieks from each of the girls as he laughed. Violet is the first to shove at his weight, nose scrunched up in disgust.

“Gross, you already smell. Please go away” she says which makes all of them laugh as the boy removes his weight from off of them. Once free they sit up, eyes squinting in the brightness of the sun.

“We were sleeping, nothing exciting about watching you throw heavy things around” Laurie says, brushing grass from her sweater and perfectly styled blonde hair.

“Violet never seems to mind” he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement and the girl quickly shoves him as hard as she can. He was good at pushing her buttons.

“Careful there Martin, she’ll stop visiting after hours and that’ll interfere with my plans too” Evelyn tells him, a pointed but joking look on her face, and Marty grins at all three of the girls that he has come to love in very different ways.

“Yeah well those plans are about to launch himself in the air so get ready to watch” he says with a soft pat to her leg before standing up. He doesn’t miss a beat as he bends to offer Violet a chaste kiss and runs off to join the boys in his own event.

“God, is it bad I don’t want to watch?” Evelyn asks, suddenly filled with nerves as she spots Charlie stretching and preparing for his event. The girls giggle beside her and Violet wraps a comforting arm around her shoulder.

“Yes, considering he’s only been doing this for a month” Violet teases and Evelyn can’t bring herself to laugh because the whistle is blowing, indicating the start and Charlie now has the very large pole in his hands. Since when were they that tall? He could fall and break an arm, or worse his leg.

Panic was beginning to flood her but she didn’t have time to acknowledge it because suddenly the boy was running, running so fast it almost hurt her neck to follow him. Even Violet and Laurie held their breaths as the bottom of the pol met ground and the boy was being lifted in the air, feet above his head and guiding him over the pole. A laugh of nerves and pride fell from Evelyn’s lips as he cleared it and she didn’t breathe until he met the mat on the other end and lifted himself up from the ground.

“That was amazing” Laurie said as the crowd began to cheer and Evelyn nodded, still trying to come back to reality as Charlie returned to the other members of the team.

“Wow are you sure he’s never pole vaulted before?” Violet asked and Evelyn nodded, remembering that day in the hallway like yesterday. Yet Charlie had completed the sport with ease and even she had been wondering how he had gotten so good in such a short amount of time.

"Positive" she told her and Violet and Laurie shared equally impressed looks as another student attenmpted his hand at the event. Evelyn's heart had now calmed and she found herself enjoying this much more than she thought. It was fun watching and not only that but cheering on your favorite people in the world, even Charlie who was the most unlikely of her allies lately.

It's not long until the meet is over, the girls cheering where necessary when Marty and Nate were up in their own events as well. The temperature had cooled down quite a bit as the night progressed, the sun barely cast over the horizon now as the teams began to pickup and visiting families started to make their way home. The girls made quick work of collecting their things and starting for the very boys they had attended this for. Violet beat all of them, rushing into Marty’s arms and greeting him with a friendly kiss. Much different then the last interaction they had not that long ago. Evelyn took a much gentler approach, walking slowly into Charlies arms and offering him a sweet kiss. Nate turned away quickly, not wanting to watch.

"What, no running and jumping for me?" he teased once she pulled back and Evelyn just laughed, giving a soft shake of her head. Charlie kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders and she locked her own around his waist. Happy to have someone to belong too.

"I'm not much for theatrics" she told him and Violet glared as Marty set her down and the group began to circle around one another. Laurie and Nate standing awkwardly beside each other being the only two single ones of the group and never once having any interest in the other.

"You did really good Charlie" Laurie praised and Charlie smiled, softly shaking his head as he glanced to the other two boys.

"Thanks Laur" he said, a bit embrassed. He still hated track, despised it, but the praise made it worth it. Only slightly.

"Yeah, I thought Evelyn said you've never done track before" Violet repeats from earlier and Charlie's brown eyes dropped to gaze into Evelyn’s and she smiled at him, remembering the closed off boy who argued with her in the hallway that day. He was still that boy but at least now he had begun to let her in.

"I haven't, it's just these muscles I have from all those years of rowing" he smirks, free arm lifting to flex for the group and they all laugh as Evelyn pulls his arm down, shaking her head at the cocky boy beside her. Once the laughter calmed he glanced around the group. "But seriously I worked my ass off this last month or so. No chance I was going to risk falling on my ass in front of the entire student body. Especially since I still have the new kid reputation"

“That’s fair” Nate agreed and Laurie smacked him as well, the group comfortably laughing again.

Charlie couldn’t help the slight constriction in his chest. He had come to like this group of people, he really did. It just would never be the same and he figured it never would. Just a few months ago he was the happiest he’d ever been in his life and now he wasn’t sure what he was. He knew he was happy around Evelyn, content even, and he knew he enjoyed the presence of the others but they didn’t offer him what the Dead Poets did. Those were his brothers, his family, the only people he had ever shown his true self too. Then suddenly, all at once, he was sad because today he did something new and none of them were there to see it. Most of all Neil who would’ve been the first person he told about today.

“I gotta run, thanks for coming guys” Charlie suddenly said and before Evelyn could question why, he let go of his grip on her, and rushed off towards the entrance to the dorms. The group looked amongst each other as they spotted Evelyn’s disappointed face.

“What was that about?” Violet questioned and Evelyn shrugged, turning back and trying to hide how much his sudden change in attitude upset her.

“Not sure” she spoke, eyes a bit more dull than they just were. She liked having a boyfriend, she loved even feeling content enough to have one, but when he closed off like that she couldn’t help but feel a little lost. Charlie had always been a mystery but she hoped they had at least moved past that point by now.

“I’m sure it’s nothing” Nate said, seeing entirely through her and Evelyn nodded even though it did nothing to ease her mind. Nate went to walk towards her but she took a step back, sad eyes gazing amongst her friends that she didn't want to pity her.

"I'm going to finish up some homework, I'll see you guys later" and just like that Evelyn was off too, running to hide from her friends who would question her until she was too sad to answer. She may be Charlie's girlfriend but she still couldn't explain him and that hurt more than anything. To be the closest person in his life and still feel like you knew nothing about him. To feel like he didn't entirely trust you yet and that was pain on its own.

The now abandoned group of friends slowly dispersed off into their own things. Nate who couldn't get the image of a sad Evelyn out of his mind started for his dorm, hoping Charlie would be in there so he could give him a piece of his mind. Yet what he didn't expect to find was Charlie sat up on his bed, track clothes still on, as tears streamed down his face. It was the first time Nate had ever seen something as heartbreaking as this. He knew Charlie was broken but he had hid it so well, at least up until now. When Charlie spots him he's quick to wipe at his face and turn to the wall.

"What happened?" Nate can't help but ask, almost shocked by the fact that just moments ago he came here to yell at Charlie for Evelyn being sad when Charlie was the saddest of them all.

"I don't know, it's hard to explain" Charlie muttered, voice hoarse with tears. Nate took his spot on his own bed, watching Charlie who refused to turn from the wall. He hadn't cried in front of anyone since he first found out about Neil. Everyone must reach their breaking point some time.

"Try me" Nate said, getting comfortable and preparing to hear his side of everything. He knew about his friend, knew the turmoil that Chartlie held. He just didn't know anything about it. He was given no story, no context, and it was such a heavy fact to know. Knowing nothing about the story made it consume your mind entirely. He figures because of this Charlie took a moment to respond.

"It's weird, like I can't explain. Just sometimes the memory of what happened is so suffocating I can't breath. It happens randomly too, like the weirdest things could trigger it" Charlie says, slowly turning to face Nate. The one good thing was Nate had a comforting aura to him, probably why him and Evelyn had been friends for so long.

"What triggered it today?" Nate asked, hoping his questions wouldn't scare him off. He had shared a room with Charlie for a while now and he knew he was the only one to know this about him. He just wanted to be there for him if need be.

"I'm not sure, suddenly I was super aware of the fact that all of you were my friends but not really my friends. Because my friends are still at Welton and one of them is dead and then I started feeling guilty for moving on and pretending they don't exist. Guilty that I'd ever be so happy when my friend was so unhappy he didn't survive" Charlie says, tears streaming down his face again and to avoid looking at Nate his eyes find the picture on his night stand. The one of him and the boys outside of the cave. A moment frozen in time where he was his happiest. If only that Charlie could see him now and what a wreck he'd become.

"I hate to say it Charlie but I think you’re experincing panic attacks. Which is normal for people who have endured any type of trauma. It's a coping mechanism for people who still struggle with traumatic events in their life" Nate says, knowing all about this because his own father had them growing up. A side effect of surviving World War 2 and living a life to tell the tale. He'd seen his Dad jump at enough fireworks, and be blinded by anger enough times, to know a piece of his father would always be still at War.

"How do I get rid of them?" Charlie gapes, mind reeling over the idea that the death of his best friend had impacted him in such a way that he may never be normal again. Yet then again, what really is normal? He wasn't so sure anymore.

"You don't. You learn to live with them and when that doesn't work you start to learn what triggers it, and learn to live with that. Whatever happened though Charlie was enough to unease your mind and you should probably figure out how to get some closure" Nate spoke, standing and searching for his shower stuff. After an entire track meet he needed a rinse and he figured Charlie needed the room. Charlie might be the guy who stole his girl but that guy was also very broken and Nate couldn't fix that for him no matter how hard he tried.

"Like face my fears?" he questions and Nate nods, swinging his towel over his shoulder and offering him a tight lipped smile.

"Exactly" he says before opening the door and giving Charlie the space to recognize what had really happened to him. How he had been left to hold in all this trauma to the point his own body had made a chemical reaction to what he had endured. Charlie hated that, it made him feel weak, when not so long ago he felt like a king. When he felt like he had a chance at loving his life.

To indeed be a God.

Taglist: @octaviasdread @eden-punk @linmichea1 @pursuedbyamemoryy @mynameisjxlia

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

13 notes · View notes

arabaka · 1 year

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ reigen arataka x fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! appearance of inappropriate power dynamics (explained). office sex. f!receiving oral. unprotected sex. reader wears a dress. exhibitionism. spanking. pet names "baby" and "love" used. WORD COUNT: 5.1K // PSD CREDIT // ENJOY THE SHOW !!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED !!!

“Well, I have to tell you — I’ve never seen answers like yours on this and I’ve done a lot of these questionnaires.” Should you take that as a compliment? Or a sign of worse things to come? You should have listened to that tiny voice in the recess of your mind, screaming at you to GO HOME! and THIS IS STUPID! when you were still outside the front door. But not because you were doubtful, no. Quite the contrary. You were, and still are, too hopeful.

Hopeful for a sign, a sign that what’s wrong isn’t with you but the pool you’ve been swimming in. The dating pool.

And a 99% guarantee at revealing your soulmate for the low, low price of your pride plus a nominal service fee looks like a lifesaver from where you’re drowning. The romantic in you jumped first and thought later because you didn’t count for being nervous.

“Is that a bad thing?” Your voice comes out so much smaller than intended. You need this Reigen Arataka to speak up and speak fast because your brain is already jumping– no, pole vaulting to conclusions and all of them are pointing to you being the common denominator to your dilemma.

Were you too honest? He’d told you to answer the survey truthfully, that he can’t get a proper read on your aura otherwise, but now you’re wondering if he’s psychoanalyzing you and silently deeming you too far gone. There were quite a few questions that had your brain regressing to vices you’ve tried to subdue. Your bottom lip between your teeth, you rub your thighs together anxiously. A detail that doesn’t go unnoticed by the observant psychic.

Well, look at you. You’re shaking like a leaf, hoping he doesn’t notice but he has an eye for this sort of thing. Knows how to read people and you? So easy to figure out, he’s already got you, cover-to-cover.

“No, no.” Reigen promises to use his knowledge for good but there’s one answer of yours that he just can’t seem to get past. His gaze flitters over to you; are you trying to pull the wool over his eyes? Jotting down something so brazen… You have to be up to something.

The look on your face is that of growing uncertainty; he’ll lose you if he isn’t careful. Knuckles bop the paper, wrist rapping off your responses but it’s when his mouth follows suit that you feel your heart drop at your feet.

He’s going to read your answers. Out loud.

And he’s starting with one you answered with honesty you didn’t even know you had.

“What’s one thing you’ve never done that you would like to do?”

Air stills in your lungs. Oh god. You sit, so mortified and small in your chair.

“Most would say skydiving, if you can believe it. Or something like, travel abroad. But you wrote…”

The man has a flair for the dramatic, that much you can deduce when he takes a moment to pause. Your controversial answer is on the tip of his tongue and when he finally rolls it out, you feel the heat in your face turn over to a boil.

“Have sex in a public place.”

Why did you answer that truthfully?! You could have put down anything so why land on something so excruciatingly embarrassing? Your vision splits and suddenly you’re seeing two of Reigen, which is two more than you want to see right now.

“Hey, hey,” In the most delicate way possible, Reigen attempts to drag you out of the 6-foot trench you’re mentally digging for yourself, “I’m not judging.” That’s a lie. Because he is judging you, just not poorly.

He’s looking at you, gaze stuck on you like honey, and watching you fidget in your seat, your lips quivering as you try to come up with something, anything to say. It’s captivating. It’s intriguing.

It’s really fucking hot.

“Sorry, I just…” Oh finally, your vocal chords work for something that aren’t just self-sabotaging squeaks. “Didn’t think you were going to read it out loud.” You still can’t look him in the eyes. That’s good. That means you can’t see the cogs in his brain grinding. “You told me to answer truthfully so I… Put the first thing that came to mind.”

What is it about you that is driving him up the walls insane? Making HIM shift in his seat, hoping you don’t notice the tension straining in his slacks.

But… At the rate he’s going, he’s going to get in a lot of trouble anyways… If you let him.

He swallows hard. What he’s about to do, the plan he is about to put into motion is so dastardly, it’ll probably become a sin he’ll spend the rest of his life making up for. And it all starts with one question: “Are you sexually frustrated?”

You blink, his voice a jarring echo in your brain. You try to replay it, maybe hoping the second or third time you repeat it in your head you’ll hear something different. But no, he only confirms his question with a follow-up explanation, to put your nerves at ease.

“Forgive me for being so blunt, but I see this very often in these types of consultations. People come to me looking for a soulmate but the issue isn’t with you… It’s with a type of curse that’s becoming more common these days than ever before. These things– They latch onto poor people like you and they ward off potential suitors. Believe me, I see it all the time.”

The problem is you can’t believe what you’re hearing, yet you trust him all the same. Hearing the words “the issue isn’t with you” inspires hope, the feeling inspiring a bright twinkle in your widened eyes. “R-Really?” You gasp. If it’s a curse, he can help with that, right ? “So then… Can you exorcise the spirit?”

He almost wishes you wouldn’t look at him like that– so full of newfound wonder and fascination. Almost.

“Yes!” He gives you a thumbs up. “And don’t worry– no extra charge.”

You’ve never been to a psychic before. Neither have any of your friends. But maybe this is something they all do. Maybe they all have a special service that’s off the books. Surely a psychic of his caliber couldn’t possibly be expected to quantify all of his amazing, otherworldly abilities.

“Some curses manifest in your body through physical ailments. Fortunately, with my psychic abilities, I can expel any evil spirit in your body through physical contact. Massage it right out of ‘ya.” He explains while guiding you to a door that’s in the furthest corner of his office.

The difference between this room and the lobby is like night and day; whereas the foyer is padded with your run-of-the-mill fluorescent lighting, this room is mostly shrouded in shadows. That, of course, is by design.

“Relax.” He tells you and your body actually listens. Maybe it’s the humidifier wafting the soft aroma of lavender or the dim flicker from an array of pillar candles, either way you’re easing into the intimate atmosphere. Your eyes are taken by the main fixture in the area: the massage table. You know that’s where you’ll end up but you wait for his command, which he fulfills. “Go ahead and get on the table. The way you are is fine.”

You lie down, unable to stop the fidgeting that’s annoyingly taken a hold of all your limbs. You start an apology but Reigen stops you before you can really begin. “It’s okay. Let me take care of that.”

Is it the apprehension leaving your body that’s making you wiggle your body so much? Or is it from excitement, the prospect of finally being free of whatever’s been holding you back too much for you to take? But once Reigen gets his hands on you, every cell, every nerve in your system bows to him.

His hands are so firm, even over your clothing you can feel his mastery in the art of massaging. He coaxes the most stubborn of knots out of your shoulders, using the fat of his thumb to make deep but mindful strokes over the plane of your body. You can feel a revitalization of sorts taking place as he works your tired and overworked muscles, your brain humming with a pleasure you’ve never experienced before. He starts a pinch and rolling technique, effectively melting you where you lie on his massage table. He’s hitting all the right spots; how does he know this? Can he see with his psychic powers where you’re most pent up? Wow, you think inbetween flashes of vision, he’s good.

The entire time, you’re withholding from him and worst of all, he knows it. You don’t realize it, but your attempts at hiding your moans are a lot more obvious than the sounds you’re working so hard to keep from him. The exhales flaring your nostrils come in noticeable spurts, particularly when he starts to roll the heel of his palm over the span of your back. He can’t exactly see it, but he can just tell you’re biting your lip, praying that any one of those ill-sounding noises never makes it past your hold.

You feel looser by the time Reigen is done with you, more flexible in your joints and god do you feel as though a weight was lifted off your shoulders. Literally. You’ve never felt better. You’re sitting upright now on the massage table, singing his praises but your voice slowly dies out when you see the expression on Reigen’s face.

He looks perplexed, stumped even. “Hm…” He muses aloud, his hand wrapped around his chin in thought.

You waste no time, asking right away, “What? What’s wrong?” Your hands grip one another tightly– did the treatment not take? Your brain can’t help but leap several steps backward, back to where you started; maybe you are the problem.

“The curse still has a hold on you. I was able to eliminate 99% of it but…” You’re usually not one to rush things, much less people but you wish he would just get on with it! This is your life he’s talking about here! “That 1%... Could be a problem. Now I know that number seems low but that basically means the curse hasn’t left you and can still do a lot of damage.”

Really? That low of a percentage can still ruin your life? So… That’s it? Hot tears start to sting your eyes at the prospect of being stuck like this forever. Reigen looks surprised at your sudden show of despair, but quick to act he catches your tears with cupped hands at your face, thumbs stopping the streams in their tracks. Your heart is beating so loud, raging against your ribcage, that you don’t have any doubt that he can feel it pulse in his fingertips. You're frozen, unsure of what to do, how to act but you feel a stir in the pit of your belly as your gaze never leaves Reigen's.

He's contemplating– or so he'd like you to think. Because the truth is, he's been working up to their suggestion the moment he read that answer of yours. "There is… One way." His palms still holding your face, your hopes even, he smooths a circle along the peaks of your cheekbones. "It's… Unconventional."

The word reverberates in your ears, tickling the outer shell with a heat that swiftly spreads to your face. Unconventional? You look into his eyes and you see something more beast than man and suddenly, it all clicks. The subtext of his words heavy on your tongue, you swallow them down, down, down until you’re clamping your thighs together tight.

Whether he’s been working his way up to this proposition the entire time or he’s a bonafide spirit medium willing to go to great, great lengths for his clientele, you find that… You can’t be bothered to care either way. And that little voice of your head, that last ditch effort for a rational decision? Suddenly quiet.

“Okay…” You nod into his hands, “Whatever it takes. Just help me, Reigen Arataka.”

“Stand by the window. Be there in a minute.”

His voice low, carried by an undercurrent of blown out lust and worn down patience, he leaves you where you are. Your eyes follow him as he walks to the front door, so casually turning the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. Your legs quiver with anticipation as Reigen makes his way back to you, his fingers busying themselves by loosening the knot in his tie before casting it away. You feel your heart flutter then, lose your breath even when his hands reach out to grip your waist, fingers curling as he starts to walk you back.

You let him lead until you feel the soft brush of the wall on your backside, gasping when you feel the tip of his loafer nudge your feet apart. He chuckles first then takes a step forward, occupying the space he’s made for himself. He moves in, letting his lips brush delicately against your ear lobe, practically purring in your ear when he murmurs, “Been wanting to do this since you walked in.”

Your body flush against his now, his twitching cock already grinding against your thigh, you sigh. “Y-Yeah?” You bite back a moan when you feel his fingers start to hook into your sides, creating a little friction between the two of you, your bodies wriggling against one another so obscenely. “Just looking for an excuse then..?” When your voice trails off, Reigen picks it up with a snicker into your neck as he leaves a kiss on every exposed bit of skin.

“No…” He presses the word to your body, enjoying the way you squirm under him. “I’m treating you, remember?” Your chest falls with a lofty exhale, Reigen coaxing a few more of those lovely little noises of yours when his fingers start to trickle down from your waist, to your hips, to finally… The bottom of your dress. He’s so impatient. “I promise this is going to make you feel better.”

Your eyes meet there, lingering for a moment in anticipation of what’s to come. When you bring your head back up, you’re surprised to see his gaze already stuck to you. “I’m… Already feeling a little better. Is it working?” Your words slowed and your tone hushed, you feel a haze start to settle over your brain when Reigen’s fingers start to sneak under your dress and up your inner thigh. His touch is hot on your skin, leaving embers in its wake, and he doesn’t hesitate even for a moment to crook a finger on the panty line stretching over your cunt.

“Y-Yeah.” He starts to falter, facade dropping when his finger is immediately meant with such wetness, your slick easily coating his digit and he hasn’t even stuck it inside you yet. He clears his throat but a breathy groan still escapes his lips when he rubs the pad of his finger along your folds, dipping past the lips and gathering more of your arousal. God, he’s addicted to this feeling: the way your body just melts into his hands is making his head fuzzy and his cock unbearably hard. “You’re so wet… Have you been keeping this from me the whole time?”

You start dipping your hips, rubbing against him to quell your desire and this seems to work just fine for him too, given that he’s panting into the recess of your neck and dry humping your leg to soothe his own needs. You moan out a wispy mmhmm for him and that has his lips hovering just over yours in a flash. He needs to know what you taste like here first before all else.

Your heart is rattling in your chest, the precious bundle of nerves hidden by your panties throbbing for relief. You take the incentive, closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss that’s so hungry, Reigen can savor it on you. The kiss you share is passionate, more than what should be allotted for a businessman and his client.

“Feels good?” He breathes, letting his tongue slip into your mouth just as he plunges a finger inside your tantalizingly tight warmth, lapping up your moans so naturally. Your thighs attempt to lock around his hand when the tip of his digit finds that spot of yours, so easily and so wondrously, but that doesn’t dissuade him. His free hand now at your chin, lustful eyes watching your lashes flutter under the pressure he’s giving you even as he kisses you deeply. You don’t want him to stop, you’re not done enjoying the way his tongue laps over yours, the way he’s giving you plenty of moans to swallow like it’s your first taste of water in a long time.

His lips come off yours with a smack, a thin bridge of saliva breaking from your mouths and it’s like he’s stolen the air right from your lungs. But he’s in a similar state, you see it from the way he’s slowly drawing an inhale and the way his hair sticks to his temples from the sweat already forming from the heat you’re sharing. He’s… So, so beautiful.

He doesn’t say a word as he sinks to the ground, much to your surprise as your pupils dilate and your legs tremble. He only has to swat your knee once to get you to open up for him and when you do, your panties come off and your dress gets pushed up in an instant. He’s hungry and at this point, you don’t know if this is for you or for him. But this is a win-win situation and you’re not complaining.

The way he dives right into your pussy is exhilarating, like a shock to your heart that sends goosebumps up and down your arms. “H-Hhm, a-ah…” You struggle with words, delirium settling in the back of your eyes as you relax into him. His nose just above your clit, his mouth positioned right over your anticipating hole, he seems to know just what he’s doing with his tongue as it pokes and drags over your wet pussy. You watch his lids slowly close, his face pressed against your folds as he lewdly slurps up your juices until the taste of you is tingling on his taste buds. And my god, he’s still in his suit.

He’s groaning loudly into your lips, slipping in another digit inside you until he’s pumping in and out of you with three fingers dripping with the essence of you. You tighten up around him, walls flexing when he caresses the most tender part inside of you with sinful dexterity. He closes his lips around the hood of your clit, relishing the way you start to jut your hips into his mouth for more, more, more. He can’t get enough, not when you taste this good, feel this good.

“A-Arataka,” You slip up, but the two of you are already so embedded in the pleasure it doesn’t even matter, “Y-You’re… Mmmhn… R-Right there, right there!” Your wanton cries don’t go unanswered as he starts to pull on your bud, suckling the sensitive muscle while quickening the pace at which his fingers enter you. Your back pressed hard into the wall, he’s determined to bring you down and into his mouth too. It’s only right, you’re in his charge after all.

“Y-Yeah?” You know just how to pluck at his heartstrings, saying his name like that… Like you need him. “Gonna let go? Let go, please.” A carnal lick to his words, you obey but not without gripping the hair at his crown and pulling him deeper into you. Your toes curl into the floor, feet struggling to even stay grounded as Reigen practically jackhammers his fingers into your plush, hot walls and you swear you see heaven when his tongue starts to slather drool over your already sopping wet pussy.

“‘M gonna. G-gonna…” You can’t think, not when Reigen’s handling you this way. All you can do is bend to his will, let go just like he told you to and when you do, god do you feel so good.

So good, you forget how this started.

Reigen doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down as he licks into your pussy, swallowing everything you have to give him and more until his chin is dripping with your release, until your climax is the only flavor he has flooding his mouth. He pulls away, panting but not tired. No, in fact… He’s feeling reinvigorated. After all, he’s not done with you, not yet.

“Turn around.” He murmurs into your ear after coming to stand once more. Pressing into your thigh, you feel a wet patch on the crosspoint of his slacks and you know exactly where he’s going with this.

You listen, balance staggering when you turn on your heels but Reigen, oh he’s a gentleman the way he has both hands on your hips, keeping you steady so you don’t have to.

And just as he guides you to face the window, he says, “Now, you mentioned…” He breaks for a nibble on your earlobe, hands making good work of his belt and throwing it aside. You shiver when you hear the metal of his buckle clatter against the floor. Your hole squeezes around nothing, desperate for him to fill you up. “Sex in a public place, right?” His lips now at the slope of your neck, he gives you a nice, long suck until your skin blooms a pretty color, and all for him. “Then this should do the trick…”

There it is, the heat of his cock pushing between your thighs and rubbing up and down your plump folds. He almost loses his way here, rolling his hips into you over and over. He can’t help it, your ass just jerks back into him in the most decadent way every time the tip of his member so much as grazes your clit. And you can’t help it, you’ve just cum and he’s teasing you at this point.

“L-Little mean to hold back for your client…” You gingerly remind him that you’re waiting, that you’re his customer to take care of. He only offers a laugh for an apology but you’re getting what you want, what you’ve been wanting so you won’t chastise him too much…

He swallows hard, shaft pulsating in his hand as he guides his cockhead to your entrance. “You– Shit…” He hisses as he starts to lean into you, his tip squishing against you just before he slips in with a very audible, very carnal groan. “Just like that…” His voice barely above a grumble and stuttering over an exhale after hearing you cry out, Reigen inches deeper inside you while haphazardly bunching up your dress until your bare ass is on display for his viewing pleasure. Your back arches in response to his desperation, your fingers trembling when you come to grip the window sill. He hasn’t even finished filling you when your eyes start to roll behind heavied eyelids.

Your brain is firing on all cylinders, flesh bouncing when Reigen starts his motions inside you. “F-F-F– Ahh, mmm…” You whimper as he picks up the pace and suddenly you’re feeling him curled over you, breath fanning over your ear when he winds back and smacks into you a little harsher than the last. Your lashes flutter apart and what do your eyes land on but the street outside, people walking around and going about their day, not knowing the filth occurring just a story above them.

“This might be public enough… But if you’d like, we can continue this outside.” How he can continue to tease you when his long shaft is running up and down your walls, granting you a pleasure you’ve always dreamed of, is beyond you but you’re not protesting. You whimper in response and he rushes to kiss your cheek, sloppy and rushed so there’s a layer of spit left after he returns to your ear with a question, “Feeling good?”

Reigen himself feels like he’s losing control the longer he’s penetrating you; your walls hug him so tight and every tremble leaves a quake of erotic bliss he feels deep in his core. And on top of that, he’s mesmerized with how the sunlight pouring in from the window practically shines a spotlight on your ass. There’s a sick uptick in the corners of his lips when he starts to smack your bottom with his spread hand and it’s such a delicious sight, he can’t help but do it again. And again. And again.

To say he’s glad you walked in that door is an understatement. You’re so good for him, running back into his cock to feel the full force of his member overtake you on every thrust. God, it’s really doing a number on his sanity, watching your ass jiggle and your cunt swallow him. He swears to never do this again, never… With anybody but you.

He watches your head start to droop but not to worry; he grasps your face, thumb on one cheek and the rest of his fingers on the other to squish your lips into a beautiful pout, and uses that newfound grip to urge you forward, give you a better look at the world on the outside.

“Look at that… This is what you wanted right?” Reigen murmurs, lips hovering by your temple. “Sex– fuck, hhn — in a public place… Anybody can just look up and see you. Come in, even. I didn’t lock the door.” He hisses the last part right into your ear, a lopsided smile coming over his features when he feels your hips buckle and your lips part for a series of mewls. “But you like that, don’t you?”

The sounds of him rutting into you, cock completely sheathed in your warmth, are so loud, you wonder if anybody on the outside can hear it. There’s also the noises you’re making, so needy and strung out as Reigen fucks you so good, you already feel cured. Not to mention the squelching sounds of him pushing your slick back into you, forcing it to mix with his dribbling pre-cum… It’s so much, too much—

“A-Arataka,” There you go, mixing up names again, “Rei– I’m c-close. P-please, please– fuck.” You’re drooling, that’s how fucked out you’re becoming with every shove of Reigen’s engorged member inside you. You swear you feel his girth doubling inside you, the veins outstretched over his foreskin mingling with the ridges in your flexing walls so magically… He’s the real deal, alright.

And Reigen? He’s loving every second of this, intoxicated by the way you’re crying out for him, like he’s the only one who can save you… Maybe because he is. He’s getting off either way and it shows by the way he’s now pummeling your weeping pussy, smacking fluids everywhere and you whine so beautifully how can he not keep it up? “S-Shit, you’re so tight… Fuck, give into me, baby.”

He’s not supposed to call you that, but damn does it feel good rolling off his tongue like that. “Like that? Like being fucked this way?” He’s breathing into your ear, repeating it like a mantra while you nod so terribly fast it’s making you dizzy. “T-Taking me in so well, god… Can’t help it, sorry… Gotta fuck you this way…” He doesn’t need to explain to you his speed, his force into you as you seem to understand him fully by the way your cunt starts to squeeze so, so taut around the ring of his shaft.

The room is now privy to the volume of his balls smacking into your clit and that’s when your legs wobble, threatening to close in on him as you feel your climax edging close and closer. If only you could kiss him, share spit just like you’re sharing slick… Suppose that can be for next time, you manage to muse just as he starts to dig his nails into the front of your thighs, driving you back until your ass is bouncing off his pelvis.

He sees white when you start to babble his name like a broken prayer, spilling into you all his sticky, hot seed. It’s so much, you feel a new level of stuffed and when the tears start to prick your waterline at the overwhelming sensation, you know you’re going to cum with him.

He groans your name, nips it to your neck even as his thrusts become lazy, hips running slack against your ass until he’s completely spent, having packed your pussy to the brim with his load. It’s starting to spill out actually, dripping onto the floor while your chest rises and falls with dense breath. You can only think of him, only want him, only–

“That was… Amazing…” You find yourself saying, voice giving way to giggles when Reigen’s lips start to pepper kisses from your cheek to your temple. “B-Better than I thought it would be, love.” You crane your neck back to see the pet name fluster the man, the same man who was just fucking you like a wild animal.

He docks his forehead against the side of your head, “Y-Yeah… You’re a little too good at this roleplaying thing, you know that?” When he laughs, it’s so weak from being so out of breath you can’t help but glow with pride. “Don’t tell me you took inspiration from the day we met.”

You hide your face away, feigning shame but he knows you’re not embarrassed. This was your idea after all.

The idea that popped in your head one night when the two of you lay in bed, on your sides and facing each other. A finger running lines on his chest, you had suggested, “You know what I’ve been thinking…” And he knew, knew that you’re minxy side had come out to play by that mischievous glint in your eyes. So he listened, got so red in the face it affected his speech— you still remember how much he stammered and wriggled at the revelation that you’d had the hots for him since the moment you walked in his office door.

“Any chance you can go another round?” You look back, tongue poking out between your lips, glossed with saliva, “I think there’s something else now… You’ll take care of me, won’t you Mr. Reigen?”

#reigen #reigen arataka #reigen x you #reigen x reader #reigen arataka x you #reigen arataka x reader #mp100 reigen #mp reigen #mp100 imagines #reigen smut #⋆ ˚｡⋆✄˚ ┆ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ marie writes! ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ┆

146 notes · View notes

lilyblisslys · 4 months

Note

damn my b. I wasn’t trynna make it sound like just a you thing but I def could’ve and should’ve pointed that out better. It’s frustrating to see how so many people assume sex workers to be Always Horny Hypersexual Toys 🤤😈™️ and pole vault into uncomfortable boundary stepping. I’m not a swer but I am a consumer and it’s just so easy to not be fucking gross client. It’s so easy to tip and be polite an d just treat them like a normal person at work. That is to say, you both are aware this is a Service Being Provided By Actual People and that you both have whole ass lives outside of this very very limited interaction. Parasociality is such a strange demon. I hope your clients are cool this year

Most (like 90%?) of my clients are lovely! I love my clients! It’s the dudes who wanna slip in my DMs because they think they can seduce me into whatever the fuck that annoy me 😭

#ur good hon dw

9 notes · View notes

haunted-headset · 6 months

Text

Take My Hand I'm on the Run - Chp. 2 tags: @vibestillaxxx@joviepog@ax-y10@themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0 @cathers-world@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza

☆Callahan's POV☆

Two hours after Astrid's POV...

Callahan sat on his bed, his stomach audibly grumbling. He had missed lunch at school that day due to his father's forgetfulness in buying groceries, a recurring issue. To add to that, he had skipped breakfast, & the hunger pangs were now so severe that he feared passing out.

"Callahan!" his dad shouted from the living room. "Get yo' ass in here!"

He stood up from his bed with a heavy sigh. As he rose, his knees almost gave out & he grasped onto his bedside drawer for balance. He hadn't had a decent meal in almost two days & had only been surviving on water. Consequently, he was famished & feeling feeble. After inhaling deeply, he gradually made his way to the living room.

"Yeah, Dad?" he asked, pulling off his red hoodie.

"Get the groceries," his dad said, taking a puff of his cigarette. His eyes were glued to the football game on the TV.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he decided not to. He was too tired to deal with his dad's bullshit. He put on his shoes & whistled for his dog.

"Pablo! Come here!" Callahan called out. The enthusiastic Bernese Mountain dog trotted downstairs over to Callahan & let out a bark. "Quiet down, Pablo. Sit," Callahan instructed, and the obedient dog complied as usual. Callahan then attached the leash to Pablo's collar, grabbed a grocery bag, and headed out the door.

As he made his way to the Niño Feliz Market, he saw a group of girls from his high school pass him. He saw one particular girl in general: Destiny Blevins, Sagitta High School's cheer captain & one of the most annoying girls in the school.

From their preschool days, Destiny had a crush on Callahan after he kindly offered her his seat on the rug. Unfortunately, as most people from school knew, Callahan did not feel the same way. Despite her persistent attempts to flirt with him, she failed every time.

"Oh! Hey, Cally," Destiny said with a giggle, stopping in her tracks. Pablo growled at the girl. Callahan sighed & waved. She curled one of her dreadlocks around her finger.

"So, how's your day been?" Cal said with a forced friendliness to his tone.

"Better now that you're here," she said with an overexaggerated giggle. He had to resist the urge to not roll his eyes. He simply forced a smile & said, "That's good! I've got to go now, so I'll see you around."

"Bye, Cally! I'll miss you," she said with a wink. She walked back over to her group of friends & loudly said, "Oh my God, he totally likes me! We're soulmates at this point! Do you think he'll ask me to prom? OMG, he totally will." He waited until they were out of earshot to laugh at how untrue this statement was.

When he finally reached the market, he tied Pablo's leash to a pole & went inside.

"Hola, Callahan!" Rodrigo, the store owner, said happily. "¿Cómo ha sido tu día?"

"My day's been good," Callahan smiled. "How's your day been, man?"

"Not terrible," he laughed. "Not too many people came in."

"Ah, that sucks!" Callahan said as he grabbed the necessary items for the week & one unnecessary item, which was a watermelon Monster drink. "Do you need any extra tips?"

"You're too kind, Callahan, but no gracias," Rodrigo said with a smile. Callahan came up to the register & bought the items. When he was about to leave, Rodrigo grabbed his shoulder gently. "You've got a heart of gold, Callahan. Remember that, mi hijo. & if you ever need somewhere to stay if that awful father of yours does something, don't hesitate to come into the store, okay?"

"Okay," Callahan smiled. "Thank you, Rodrigo."

"Anytime," he returned the smile. He added jokingly, "Now, off with ya! ¡Haz algo genial, muchacho!"

He laughed & shook Rodrigo's hand. In unison, they both said, "¡Adiós, amigo mío! ¡Aprovecha el día!" It was a tradition the two had created when Callahan was a young boy. He grabbed his bag of things, untied Pablo's leash, & went back home.

☆ ☆ ☆

It was 10 pm & Callahan was still awake. He couldn't sleep due to the sound of his dad arguing with his grandma over the phone. His dad was hurling every insult in the book at his grandma & he wanted to cry. He knew why they were arguing & it was such a stupid reason. His grandma had wanted custody of Callahan ever since his mom died of cancer when he was seven, & his dad didn't agree. So, every night, the two would argue until after midnight.

"Okay, I'm done with this shit," Cal murmured to himself, going downstairs. He went up to his dad & grabbed the phone out of his hand. "Dad. Enough."

His dad looked at Cal with red eyes. "What did you say to me, boy?"

"Leave Grandma alone," he said sternly. "She's a kind lady & doesn't deserve your bullshit."

He yanked the phone from Cal's hands, hung up, & threw it at Cal's nose. Cal heard a very soft pop & he soon felt blood trickling from his nostril. He stared at his father with shock & with fury. His dad was a bad, neglectful man, but he had never injured Callahan. Never in his life. He ran upstairs to his room & shoved a few tissues up his nostril to stop the bleeding as he quietly packed a suitcase. Pablo sniffed his hair as if he were asking, Why are you doing this?

"I made a promise to myself when I was younger that I would get away from this house if Dad ever hit me," he said to Pablo as if the two of them were having a normal, human conversation. "& I intend to keep that promise." He made sure all of the necessities were packed in his suitcase before peeking downstairs. His father was passed out on the couch. He ran upstairs, grabbed his suitcase, put Pablo on a leash, then ran downstairs & left, closing the front door quietly behind him.

He smiled & looked at Pablo. "We're on the run now, Pablo. You excited?"

Pablo licked his palm & Cal laughed. "I'll take that as a yes."

& with that, they left their old live behind & didn't look back.

#creative writing #original story #story #stories #fiction #fiction writing #novel #original writing #writing #writers corner #writers on tumblr #aspiring writer

6 notes · View notes

therooftopsofketterdam · 8 months

Text

closed / plotted starter for @thiefofcrows

The music died down as the twilight started to fill the courtyard of the palace. Guests were beckond outside by multicolored firelights. Inej could see her father lighting torches dipped into different powders. They burned blue, green, bright white and guarded them against the shadows. Her older cousins were tumbling through the courtyard, balancing on a barrel, the two of them, doing flips and circles all while keeping them in motion. The young acrobat waited for her signal from far above. She preferred the quiet of the rooftops to the bustling crowds below, up here she didn’t feel like she had to hide, she could focus only on herself and her breathing and the thin wire below her feet. They had secured it earlier that day, high on the towers of the palace spanning diagonally across the courtyard so everyone would be able to see her. Inej wore a dark teal costume with two bands of painted fabric fluttering in the wind behind her, extending from her shoulders like wings. It gave her an ethereal look, her mother had said, but Inej knew it was to help with weight distribution and show. They made her feel like a heroine from the legends her mother used to tell her as a child.

There was a signal, a long, even tone played by flute and fiddle and drum. Her fathers voice boomed above the crowd once it was gathered. “The good Ravkan folks know the legends about the folk of air, but what if I told you, we had a member with us tonight? A young girl, defying gravity!” They started playing a tune and Inej placed her first, bare, foot against the wire. It felt good, familiar, she held a pole in her hands, walking slowly, wobbly towards the middle of the wire, then stumbled a few paces backwards, pretending to struggle with her balance. There was no net. A Ghafa never worked with a net. The crowd below gasped in shock as Inej nearly fell infront of their eyes, but of course, it was their task to put on a good show.

She dropped the pole as if by accident and let herself fall. The wind rushed up to greet her, below her family gasped and ran as if to catch her. “Don’t worry good people, she is a child of the wind. They will not fall.” Her signal. Inej leaned forward, her hand expertly catching the wire and using the velocity to propel herself back up into the air, body tensing as she elegantly twisted and easily landed on pointed feet, arm outstretched in a pose. The crowd erupted in applause. Her dark hair had started coming loose from her braid, strands gently swaying in the light wind that was blowing around her.

Inej bent backwards, slowly, until her hands touched the wire securely, then, slowly pushed off with her feet, gliding into a handstand and walking a third of the length of the wire on her hands before dropping again, hooking her leg through the wire and holding on with her free hand to strike another pose, lieing suspended in mid-air. She changed her grip, swinging back up again in a fluid motion and the second her feet touched the wire she jumped a backflip from a crouch into a standing position, then flipped forwards, her hands on the wire for support as she cartwheeled her way back. The music her family played started picking up as the show of panic passed and people were watching Inej perform. Her cousins were on their way up and would take over in a few moments but for now she enjoyed the fluid, almost dance like, movements of her body, keeping it tense, muscles aching in that satisfying way of good work.

She gently priouhetted her way to the middle of the wire again, standing on the tip of her left toe, right leg outstretched in an arabesque behind her as she slowly turned on the wire, arms gently coming down, sinking into a bow, then she whipped her leg around, turning quick once, vaulting off the wire. Then there was an eruption of light and sparks and a resounding boom and the next time people lifted her eyes. She was simply gone, vanished, like the wind she was supposed to resemble.

#Thread: Tbd #Kaz and Inej: tbd #Silver and wind: Grisha Au

5 notes · View notes

focsle · 2 years

Note

Can you talk to me at length about harpoons used in whaling? I recently became enamored with them. Its just so... shaped. It's big, sharp, strong, lightweight, and very useful in mundane situations! What's not to love? I really like harpoons and I wish i can learn how to use them or at least looked at hd pictures of it online and learn all of its varied forms throughout the centuries.

Oh I certainly can haha!

I'll preface this in saying that I'll talk about the design of some harpoons used in the U.S. commercial fishery during my very narrow first-half-of-the-19th-c window of focus, with the acknowledgement that they've been used for thousands of years by indigenous people all over the world, and the acknowledgement that other forms of 19th/early 20th c harpoons existed in the commercial fishery like bomb lances and harpoon guns. This post won't go into exploring any of those because it'll be long enough as it is!

They're so big. At a place I used to work at I was once taken into a vault where we had a lot of them and it took my EVERYTHING not to touch them. The iron itself was 2-4 ft long, and then it was fitted into a wooden pole that was 5-6ft long.

These 1920s photos, courtesy of the New Bedford Whaling Museum, can give a sense of how they were handled.

This was taken by William Tripp of whaler Philip Gomes, who was a boatsteerer on the bark Wanderer.

And here's an image from Down to the Sea in ships, a 1920s silent film. The man in the boat is actor Raymond Mckee, but while it was a fictional drama it also functioned as part documentary, containing footage of actual whaling processes.

The driving force of the harpoon was one's back hand pushing forward to provide most of the power. Ideally a boatsteerer wasn't darting the harpoon very far, if at all, because that minimized how well it fastened into very thick blubber.

The design of the tip also played a role in how well they fastened.

The earlier harpoons had two flues, first figure. They weren't the most effective because the two flues meant they often didn't penetrate into the blubber very well and could draw easier too. Then harpoons with a single flue came in--they fastened better without as much force and their shape made it so they also didn't draw as easily. The last three are toggle harpoons, which were an improvement on both designs. They basically had a fastening in the toggle that would break under strain once darted into a whale, thus opening the toggle head and creating a T-shape that created a more secure hook. The modern design for the toggle harpoon was created in 1848 by a Black man named Lewis Temple who worked as a blacksmith in New Bedford. He had been inspired by much earlier examples of the toggle technology in Inuit harpoons. It wasn't ever patented however, so people stole and reproduced his design wildly and it became the standard on whaleships shortly after that.

Harpoons were also usually stamped with the name of the ship they belonged to, as well as the specific whaleboats they equipped (LB for larboard boat, WB for waist boat, etc.). This was largely in the the event that if a whale broke away and died shortly after, the ship crew that killed it could lay claim to it. But I came across one instance in a journal where the crew of the ship Covington on her 1856 voyage tried and successfully skirted around this:

“Early one morning just before sunrise we discovered it [a whale that had been killed by a different ship’s crew] close to us adrift. It not being light enough to be seen from the shore, we lowered away and towed it alongside. We got their irons out as quick as possible and stowed them away out of sight, but had no sooner done so than their boat came alongside claiming it. They were told that they were mistaken, as we had taken it ourselves, but they insisted that it was theirs, and finally the skipper told them that they might wait and see it cut in, and if their irons were found in it they might have the whale, which was a very safe statement on our side, for their irons had been extracted and ours shoved into the places they had occupied. They insisted, notwithstanding, that it was their whale, but in the absence of all positive evidence they were obliged to forego their claim, and left us declaring that they would play us a trick if they ever had a chance, but that chance they never had for the whales that we took were few and far between.”

If you want to see a ton of images of harpoons, the New Bedford whaling museum has hundreds in its collection that's searchable online. They also come up at auctions a lot too, so looking at the marine sale catalogues of auction houses will likely give you a number to look at. The specimens that survive in museums and auction houses however weren’t necessarily ever darted into a whale. When all was said and done, this was what a working iron looked like:

#ids in alt text #awhalin #asks #anonymous #animal death //#long post //

54 notes · View notes

billyjosephjr · 9 months

Text

Some Fat Burning Tips

First, I am not a fitness expert (I only play one on TV). Just kidding...unless you know of a role that's open then I will surely audition! You all know that I like to joke around. I can really only speak to things that have worked for me personally, so that is how I will approach the topic at hand...fat burning. I also enjoy writing so I am hoping to merge my love of writing and my passion for fitness into these occasional blog posts. While I am not an expert, I am going through my personal trainer and nutritionist certification, so I at least have a textbook to look at!

Like I said, I can only speak to things that have worked for me, personally and over the last 9 months I was able to cut my body fat percentage from about 25% to 11.5%. That required regular exercise but also being very intentional with my diet. So here's what I did in a nutshell and if you have questions let me know.

Try to get 10,000 steps per day. I work at my desk most the day so I have to make sure I get up and walk or park way out in the parking lot to force myself to walk or just simply go with my wife or kids and dogs for a walk in the evening. Also, one way I increased my steps was actually at the gym. Instead of staring at my phone between sets, I try to walk around in circles. Walking is one of the most effective things you can do to burn fat, hands down.

Eat my final meal and/or snack of the day by 7pm and eat or drink NOTHING after that....no cereal, no hot weenies, no leftover chicken wings...nothing.

Don't eat anything until about 10:30am the next morning. There is science behind it, which I am not citing btw, but for men, our bodies produce testosterone and burn fat best and sometimes only in a state of starvation. This occurs most effectively while we sleep so going to sleep hungry is not a bad thing if you want to burn fat and keep your T levels up (with all the benefits that brings to the table-wink, wink).

Yes, don't eat anything until 10:30am but start the morning with a large glass of hot water (not scalding, just tapwater hot) with a pinch of sea salt and a few squirts of lemon juice. Man, you can feel it run through your veins, wake you up , and get you going. After the water and before eating breakfast (at 10:30am) you can drink black coffee (black means no cream and sugar...be a man). Awe, don't cry I'm just Joshing you Starbucks fanboys, but seriously...black coffee only. The sugar will mess up that T building/fat burning state you got going on.

Try to get at least 8 hours of sleep, distraction free. This can be hard especially if you have to piss a lot (like me). We will save the prostate discussion for another post. But do the best you can on this because, again, this is when you are making testosterone and burning fat. We all like it when have to pole vault out of the bed in the morning and this is when your body is making all the stuff needed for that to happen.

You see I like to write as much as I like to talk so this could go on for a while, but the biggest thing really is diet. You gotta be eating healthy. Track your macros. If you don't know what those should be then reach out to me and let's figure it out. It's different for every guy based on height, age, weight, and activity level but once you know what those goals are...be intentional about staying within your target goals.

So that's enough for now. Like I said, ask any questions you have. Let's work together to get and stay fit as we get older so we don't feel like we're over 40!

Cheers...Billy

Oh P.S. I forgot to include but NO MORE CHIPS, FRENCH FRIES, or SODAS! I'll talk more about this later, but for now CUT THEM OUT!

#fitness

4 notes · View notes

obsessed-fanatic · 12 days

Text

To everyone who works in agriculture and plants and biology and botany

Guard the seed vault up north near the north pole and people of all on earth, forage and plant as well as forage and harvest new seeds for future generations. We gotta have a back up

Back up for everything, better yet.

Watch Matthew Santoro's 10 tips for Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse

0 notes

thelegacyofgreyleaf · 2 months

Text

Stories from Kyoguild #4

The Catalyst of War

By Eveline Brooks

***

The ocean blue cloak bellows in the wind as the gilded lining of his sky blue pauldrons shine with sunlight. Corvex Windhelm stands on scattered rocks that had fallen off nearby debris onto the stone balcony floor. His cloak, ripped and torn in some places. His pauldrons, scuffed and dented. The crimson bastard sword that was in his hand, now slipped and crashed into the ground. His golden hair flowing around his narrow blue eyes and dark tan complexion, staring out as soldiers equipped with steel armor, begin to rush out of the castle gates which stand beneath the human Prince’s heel. The Heir of Belden falls to his knees, his roar echoes out of his throat and into the blue atmosphere above. He believes he doesn’t deserve the hand he was dealt. But, poor Corvex knows too well that it’s in the past and he will never be able to earn the throne as according to the ritualistic tradition of his country; nor will he ever be able to bring back his father.

*Earlier That Day*

Corvex and his father, Marlowe Windhelm; The King of Belden, stand toe-to-toe in a coliseum filled to the brim with the residents of the country. The crowd roars around them.

“Show me what you got, Corvex. You’re the star of this festival you know.” Marlowe exclaims cockily.

Corvex runs and slashes forward with a silver and black short sword accompanied by a blue shield. “I’ll beat you this year, father!”

Marlowe side-steps out of the way of the first slash by Corvex. The crowd gasps. Marlowe raises his crimson bastard sword and shoves his opponent’s blade away. The King of Belden spins around as his blue cloak flows elegantly behind him. “Your move.”

Corvex jumps in the air, slamming the tip of his blade into the ground. After flipping over the sword like a pole vault, the young prince slashes downward into his father. Once again, this assault is blocked by Marlowe.

The King pushes his sword upward and checks his shoulder forward, sending his son flying backwards and into the sandy terrain of the battlefield. Corvex’s shield flies off and skips across the sand. The crowd gasps again, stunned by the show of skillful perfection. The young Prince pushes himself up onto his feet slowly, but once he is steady; his sword is jolted in front of him in a blocking stance. His right arm, fist clenched around his sword, trembles from the pressure of the ecstatic crowd. The Prince twists his left foot in the sand and pivots his weight onto it. Now that Corvex is standing and ready, Marlowe dashes forward. The crowd cheers, they watch intently as King Windhelm impacts Corvex with the broadside of the crimson blade. Corvex attempts to block the attack, their blades connecting, but Corvex is knocked down again. Upon crashing to the ground Corvex’s left pauldron smacks against a rock. Marlowe approaches him slowly, raising the charred and ancient bloodsword to his throat.

“Maybe next year, you’ll be able to beat me and take the throne.” The old man says gently. “You still have work to do, and that’s okay. I was in your shoes once, my son. It took me years to defeat my father at the Tournament of the Crown.” Marlowe lowers his sword and reaches out his hand to help up his son.

Corvex grabs his father’s hand and stands up. The crowd cheers as the prince accepts defeat this year. He looks hopeful, with a half smile across his face. His hair was drenched with sweat.

The king grabs his son’s wrist and holds it in the air. The crowd thunderously erupts in sound. All the various sounds slowly come together to chant, “To-Be King, To-Be King, To-Be King!!”

Marlowe turns to Corvex and releases him, stating; “You’ll be king, one day, son.” The king then turns to address the crowd. He grabs his own throat lightly as his fingertips glow a very faint green. His voice booms from his throat, “LET THE SIX-SUMMER FESTIVAL BEGIN! ENJOY YOURSELVES EVERYONE!” Corvex and Marlowe smile and wave at the crowd as they slowly walk across the arena, the crowd still erupting until they finally reach the rising metal gate door. The two turn and do a final bow and wave to the crowd. Corvex blows to the crowd while his eyes are focused on one woman dressed in blue. As the two slowly disappear into the corridor from the crowd’s gaze, the applause slowly fades as the crowd begins to gather their things and leave the stadium.

“Was that kiss for the crowd, or someone in particular?” Marlowe asks softly as they walk through the corridor.

“Both. I know that the audience loves me and I love them every year. And, it was for a girl. I have been seeing her every now and again the past several weeks. We like to hop the local taverns and inns for drinks. We visit a different one every week.” Corvex replies.

“You make me more proud to be your father, than I am proud to be the king of this country. Let it be known.” Marlowe responds, placing his hand on Corvex’s back.

As Marlowe and his heir approach the end of the corridor. The wooden exit door is opened by a dark-skinned human woman with short hair on top and shaved on the sides of her head. Marlowe speaks first; “Ah, Miss Lukholli. Nice to see you!”

“The pleasure is all mine, my lords.” She lightly bows to the both of them before continuing. “I thought I’d accompany you back to your palace. The night is young. There are many events to get to. The Tournament of the Crown is only the opening ceremony to the Six-Summer Festival, you know?”

Marlowe chuckles. “I know, Laika. This festival is my favorite time of year. It honors my great grandfather’s sacrifice to restore the cycle of the seasons after the six-year long summer. He was the only human capable of slaying a dragon. And we all are grateful for our lives and our homes today because of him.”

Laika chuckles and pulls Marlowe along. “His legacy’s story never loses its magic being spoken by you, King Windhelm.”

Marlowe responds softly, “The truth is, I am envious. I will never be remembered like him. My prime is long over.” He turns to Corvex before being led out of the arena by his noble bodyguard. “You taking the throne is long overdue my son. I know you will beat me next year.” The two leave and the door slams behind them. Leaving Corvex in a dark hallway.

“Quite the show, I’m impressed.” An ominous voice states from the darkness as Corvex only can see two glowing yellow eyes.

Corvex grunts, “Vyncint? What brings you to this side of Quinloch?”

“To warn you. Kyoga has sent an assassin to kill two targets during the festival. Those being: Laika Lukholli, and your father, King Marlowe Windhelm.” The vampire informs the prince.

Corvex starts a little, surprised. “I don’t believe you. What makes you think you can waltz into the Six-Summer Festival and make such heinous claims?”

Vyncint replies slowly to make his words more clear, “I would not be here to warn you if I did not believe it to be true. Marie was the one who actually convinced me to try and help out, and this is the most I will be doing. Had she not been so concerned for you in particular, Corvex, I wouldn’t be here. Make your next few moves very wisely Prince, unless you plan on becoming King faster than expected. Don’t make this energy I put in to get out here go to waste. And certainly, protect the woman you cherish oh so dearly. Enjoy the ‘festivities’, Corvex Windhelm.” He walks away, his footsteps fading into the black void that surrounds Corvex.

“Marie, like Marie Fuchs?” Corvex asks the darkness. “What does she have to do with this? Shouldn’t she be far outside of Quinloch by now?”

“A Falcon told her.” Vyncint replies finally.

“A Falcon?” Corvex asks himself quietly. He then opens the door his father just went through, and exits into a bustling festival with various vendors and aromas erupting in his face.

Everything from various sweets and meat stands to clothing and weapon vendors. Thousands of citizens swarm the plaza as Corvex looks out down the street leading away from the arena. One in particular spots the prince. She’s blonde with green eyes, her two tone blue dress flows down around and behind her legs as she runs at him. “Corvex! You did so amazing!! We need to go drink to celebrate, if not for another year of your father’s rule; but for that sick move!!” She grabs him with a hug and the two kiss.

“Thank you. You flatter me, Norma.” He replies, saddened.

“There is always next year! That sword vault was truly amazing! Who taught you to do that?” She asks energetically.

He smiles. “I taught myself it. I noticed it was possible by accident while I was helping out at the bank fire earlier this week. Come to think of it, they never caught the perp.” He abruptly stops. The air around him roared with the sounds of a busy crowd but the silence between him and Miss Dean was sharp and intense. “I have to go.” Corvex grabs her and kisses her cheek in return. “Don’t let any vampires suck that precious life out of you darling.” He sprints off and to the castle, shoving his way through the crowd. Guards notice and run after him, knowing there must be something to cause Corvex to act in such a way. Upon reaching the Palace of Wind-Cross. Corvex slams open the front door, halting the room full of chatter within the main chamber. Marlowe stands up and looks at his son from across the room.

His voice loudly erupts, “What is the meaning of you barging in like this, Corvex? Why aren’t you down in the town enjoying the festivities?”

Frantic whispering begins to crescendo out of the crowd.

He begins to start, almost cutting off his father. “Father, there is an assassin out for you, hiding within the crowd.”

The crowd gasps. Distressed chatter begins erupting loudly.

Marlowe speaks, “Everybody. OUT!” The gathering quiets down and begins to take their drinks and leave the castle at the king’s command. “Corvex. I know your emotions are high from your loss today but please, no need to spread such rumors during the festival.” He laughs. “Why would you want to miss the festival anyway? Do you want a drink, my son?”

“I should be asking how you can party and drink when the largest bank in our city was burned to the ground and the arsonist wasn’t caught! And now I’m being told you’re under threat by a credible source.” Corvex replies.

The room is empty now, aside from Corvex and Marlowe

“I believe you.” Marlowe responds. Corvex begins to slow down as he approaches his father’s throne.

Marlowe stomps towards Corvex. “This information better have a reliable source.”

Corvex nods, “I wouldn’t be acting like this if I didn’t trust it. It was told to me by Vynci~..”

Marlowe snaps,“Don’t you mutter any more of that name. I do not want to hear the vampiric king’s name in my chamber.” He sighs. “Then we really would be in trouble. Why would you ever trust him?”

A shadow passes from behind one guard to another. Corvex notices, his eye following it intently. He shouts out. “Over there!! Father, look out!” As Corvex begins to look back at his father, he notices red slimy tendrils that have his father wrapped from the ankles, up to his wrists, and up to his neck and covering his mouth.

The guards do not move. They stand still, like mannequins. The distressed prince charges towards his father. “Why are you all just standing there like that?! Your king is in peril! Attack her!” Corvex yells, but his message is received by only silence.

Corvex, running down this long throne room to his father, having time to think while running; he thinks about how to defeat the assailant. As he begins to flip through thought and the urge to ignore his father to attack the assailant. Not only to prove himself to his father, but to stop the attack directly by acting first.

“I said attack damnit!!” Corvex yells more. As he shouts and commands his team, the ground around his feet begins to spark in a sort of mint green color.

“They won’t listen to you.” A sadistic feminine voice echoes out from what seems to be the walls. “Just like you won’t ever rule over them. You will be left abandoned and in pieces emotionally, Corvex! Just look at your father. With every pulse of my bloodtrails, he will be closer and closer to death.”

The hooded figure jumps off one guard behind Marlowe and throws her daggers into the air above her, they stick into the ceiling and two more blood-trails appear between them and the back of her hands. Now that she is airborne, her trails visibly go from guard to guard until they reach Marlowe in the center where they rise up to her. The blood hardens and forms a giant axe in her hands. Roughly three-times the size of your ordinary giant battle axe. Out of her daggers that rest on her hips, shoot two long red tendrils of blood. They attach to the ground below. As the original trails of blood keep making the axe grow and grow, Corvex begins to dash towards her, running past his trapped father. Marlowe bites the tendril that is covering his mouth and spits it to the side. This gives him enough wiggle room to roll out of the blood vines. He grabs his sword and rushes up to his feet in a blocking stance. In one swift motion, the trails of blood rising from the surrounding crowd begin to fade off. Her daggers detach from the ceiling. She begins to plummet to the ground with a powerful wind up of the axe.

Before she swings it down, she exclaims “This is where you die..!” As it swung down, it leaves a wet red trail behind it in the air. The axe slams against Marlowe’s sword, pushing his heels scraping back on the stone ground.

“You’re faster than I expected.” She says, kicking down on her axe. Marlowe holds strong, the blades clashing and causing red sparks to fill the air around them.

“This isn’t my first fight, Aeyarus. Your king will pay for what he has sent you to do.” Marlowe responds as Corvex runs in and does an upward slash at the hooded figure. As he does, she kicks the backend of the hilt of her axe, making it skim across the blade of Marlowe’s sword and hitting Corvex with the broadside of the axe. It knocks him back and away a few feet. The axe dissipates and the blood that made it up, now swirls around her. She backflips away and forms a javelin with her dagger as the tip. Marlowe lunges at her bringing his sword down to the ground, missing her and cracking the stone floor upon impact. The woman throws her javelin and it nails him right in the shoulder.

“This isn’t mine either, human!!” The trail of blood from the knife extends to Jane’s hand and she pulls with all her might. “Get over here and bleed!” Marlowe is pulled to the attacker. With the tug, he loses grip of his sword and falls onto his knees. Corvex pulls himself onto his feet and tries to catch up with his father. But he watches as the hooded figure jumps in the air, stabbing him in the chest and pushing the both of them to the ground. She retracts her knife from a now still, Marlowe Windhelm.

Corvex charges to his father’s body. It’s already too late, Marlowe Windhelm is dead.

“You…. you monster.” Corvex says softly.

“What was that, I’m sorry. I can’t hear you.” The assailant replies cockily. She places her hand to her ear and leans in Corvex’s direction with a huge smile across her face, yet her eyes remain cold and emotionless.

His eyes begin to glow a very dark green as he raises to his feet. “You will PAY for the pain you have just caused not only me. But this entire damn country.” Corvex grabs his father’s sword, as he does; the sword begins to spark with a greenish color, and he charges at the woman responsible. He slashes twice at her, and she parries the two strikes back with her dual daggers and she tries to stab him. She misses and hits his cloak. She pulls back, slicing down his blue cape.

“I hope you know, Corvex. It’s your turn now. What weapon shall I form from your father’s blood?” The woman says while Marlowe begins to drain of blood, streaming out the front of his chest and through a trail in the air and directly to the assailant.

Corvex for the first time, steadies himself in his father’s fighting stance. He feels like it came too soon, that he isn’t worthy. He wasn’t going to let her know that he was weak at this moment, he couldn't let her at any cost. He speaks confidently, “I must do this, to protect my country. You have gone too far. You have ruined our festival. You have killed my father. You’re right, it is my turn.” Corvex runs up with the ground still cracking and glowing a soft green, and slams his sword into her, sending her flying into the back wall and ripping her cloak off. As she slams into the wall, she loses grip on her daggers and they scatter away from her. Corvex is able to make out the details of her outfit as she flips and recovers her stance. She is a medium height elf woman and is wearing a black bandanna, dark purple leather armor, a black scarf with a single gold streak, and thigh high boots. She has two more daggers stashed within her boots, which she draws.

“For the record. My name is Jane. Let it haunt you, Prince. Or should I say King now??!” She laughs intensely. Corvex charges forward, slamming his family’s sword into her body. She flies back more and her back slams against the wall once more. He takes two steps back and pivots onto his heel. A red flame begins to burst, then explodes with light on his blade.

“Well, Jane. You brought this upon yourself!” He swings his ignited sword upward, lightly tearing a part of Jane’s scarf. She is sent upward and out of a large stained glass window. The glass cracks and splinters as her body impacts it. As she breaks through the window, the fire of Corvex’s blade begins to erupt as she is then surrounded by a cloud of broken glass reflecting the surrounding vibrant firelight. She falls to the balcony below. He sighs, “You walked into the hornet’s nest and killed the king. The fate you are owed now, is your own doing. And, I will be the hand of vengeance.” Corvex steps over the jagged stained glass sticking out of the lower window frame. The balcony has six slender pillars that protrude out of the ground. Four guard bodies are on the ground, and Jane is nowhere to be seen. “Dammit! She’s quick.” Corvex runs to the edge of the balcony, placing his hands on the ledge. He looks down at the festival, the crowd from the castle now mixed in with the bigger crowd. “Nation, your king… is dead.” A chorus of gasps and angry shouts erupt from the gathering of people below.

Suddenly, Corvex hears the snapping of a rope. As he turns to face the origin of the sound when he’s met with the sight of Jane flying towards him, having shot herself with a slingshot of blood tendrils. As the tension is released, the two pillars fall and crumble down. She slashes Corvex, but her blade bounces off his pauldron. She jumps off his shoulder and lands a few feet away and places her hand to her ear. “Do you hear that, Corvex? My ‘doing’ as you said. It is in fact my symphony of pain!” Corvex pulls his sword back and charges forward. As he reaches Jane, he begins to swing. But, as he does; she jumps and lands her feet on the blade. She leaps again off it, as Corvex completes his swing and readies a block. She throws her daggers down at him, both are reflected by his guard. As he pulls the massive sword out of his view and lowers his guard, she is running to the ledge. She climbs up onto the ledge and crouches down, turning back to Corvex. “My mission is complete, but I’m sure that I will see you again. It is only natural that you would intend to hunt me down.” Jane leaps off the balcony and uses her blood tendril to zip to a building below.

The ocean blue cloak bellows in the wind as the gilded lining of his sky blue pauldrons shine with sunlight. Corvex Windhelm stands on scattered rocks that had fallen off nearby debris onto the stone balcony floor. His cloak, ripped and torn in some places. His pauldrons, scuffed and dented. The crimson bastard sword that was in his hand, now slipped and crashed into the ground. His golden hair flowing around his narrow blue eyes and dark tan complexion, staring out as soldiers equipped with steel armor, begin to rush out of the castle gates and into the scattering and panicking crowd below. The Heir of Belden falls to his knees, his roar echoes out of his throat and into the blue atmosphere above. He believes he doesn’t deserve the hand he was dealt. But, poor Corvex knows too well that he must stop at nothing to hunt down the woman responsible for killing his father.

1 note · View note