#unduplicability

[zealouscanonindeer]

The Pipe Problem

Dr John Watson:

And what course of action are we employ further?” I questioned.

Holmes had filled me in with the details of the day, I felt nervous at her sudden disappearance. 

“I shall think upon the matter, hopefully we shall have more clarity by tomorrow morning.”

I knew Holmes would not sleep a wink that night. Attaining his usual position, heavy smoking and intense meditation, he would slip into solitude as the hours wore on. Even he admitted, his findings were meagre and could not make for much but I had enough belief in his abilities for both of us. 

The next morning as I made my way to breakfast, I witnessed Holmes neatly dressed, busily writing something. He was in much better spirits that yesterday. It seemed his penance had yielded a beneficial clue.

“Aha, morning Watson. Which one would you say more suited?” he thrust two letters at me. Before reading them, I put forth my queries.

“Well, it is clear enough that she was writing a letter to me, the words my dear Holmes, sherlock, apologies and understand could culminate in that respect. Maybe she wished to inform me of her absence but though better of it.”

“The sherlock need not be in your letter, she could have mentioned you to a third party”

“Good Watson, very good. That is true enough. Now for the wrong and deliberate, they hint at a mistake or ill intentions and they’re deliberateness. Understand also is too loose to be clubbed into one category. The father could show her describing her father’s recent travel. The appreciate I cannot place.”

“It seems easy enough. She appreciates you understanding her absence.”

“But that’s the thing. Both the words are too far apart, with understand on what one could make the second line of the letter while appreciate does not appears until the very end of the page.it could serve a similar purpose, nonetheless.”

“What of the letter she supposedly received from you?’

“The most acceptable conjecture would be thus. She received a letter, one that was to deceive her but she realised the hoax and wished to unfurl the person behind this. She did as per the letter, making her escape in the night. Her attempts of the letters are more difficult to explain for she would undoubtedly inform me. She must have used her father’s departure as an excuse to mask her own.”

“How about she was being watched and her attempts of contact denied”

“That does not explain the sheer amount of discarded paper. If she was being watched, only a single letter would be burned. No more likely she struggled with her next course of action, often vacillating between outcomes.”

“Who would know of the lady’s presence in my life and its importance to send her a letter on my behalf, knowing she would certainly act.”

He closed his eyes, eyebrows ruffling in agitation, his forehead wrinkling as he thought deeply. After a few moments, he got up making his way to the coat rack, pulling on his overcoat and securing his muffler around his long neck.

“Watson, if it pleases you, I shall be grateful of your company. ”

“Don’t you wish for me to read these prototypes first?”

“If our endeavours are successful, we shall some original documentations. Now come along Watson, the game is truly afoot.”

We made our way to Mrs crofts establishment, Holmes intently studying the times columns. He, as per his custom maintained silence.

We were let in by a small parlour maid with an alarmed expression over her thin countenance. Holmes nodded at her and silently made his way up the stairs into the third room to the left. His nimble fingers, handling a smallish hatpin worked away at the lock until it gave open.

No sooner were we in than he had once again turned into a creature of frenzy and unduplicable energy, his hands working on every crevice and his trained eye unable to miss even a slight detail. However, his search yielded nothing concrete.

Next, he tore open the closet, dresser drawers and every other surface was rendered open but to avail. He then, with visible displeasure conceded,

“Oh, Watson, I suppose everyone has their limits as I have been painfully made aware of mine. I wonder what I have missed…. I must have…. surely…. By Jove! There it is!”

He lurched at the morning dress placed on the settee and dug into its deep pockets and his whimsical smile returned once more.

“Not yet Watson not just yet.”

He procured a curious little piece of paper, a crisscrossed one, the columns filled with unusual numbers. 

“What is this then Holmes?”

“Beats me, another night in tobacco ash shall be needed. Come now, we must swiftly take leave before Mrs croft is made aware of our presence.

With immaculate detail, the room was left as found and two gentlemen slipped noiselessly out of the women chambers. 

[jjkpls]

Whole Lotta Love (m)

> genre : smut, pwp

> pairing : kim taehyung x reader (f) x jeon jungkook

> total words : 2.8k

> warnings/content : friends to lovers, threesome i guess, exhibitionism/voyeurism themes, some dirty talk, penetrative intercourse, bad editing

There are the drums, getting beaten so hard the whole world is shaking, tectonic plates disrupted and volcanos awoke. And the guitars, the hundred of electric guitars’ cords abused by the most passionate fingers, screeching and thundering blaring so strong it’s like they’re trying to frighten Zeus.

You want to believe that it’s just the music. That it’s so loud, louder than anything you've ever heard, painful and mindblowing in the scariest yet most delicious and memorable way. You’ve never heard that before. You’ve never experienced that kind of insanity. That’s why your body struggles to handle it. Trying to make-do, improvise with the information received while keeping the most of your body intact, making sure your eardrums, eyes, brains and everything else just don’t explode and shatter to pieces right there. And even though you thought about it so long and hard, trying to picture what it would be like, a dream born in a psychotic imagination. A dream of the loudest concert ever: hundreds of guitars, drums, basses and voices, all playing the same tune. It's still unexpected, unbelievable. You couldn't have imagined it to be like that.

Now your body is left to extemporize and lags a bit. Coping via manifestations you’re not responsible for and can’t explain. That’s why your cunt is clenching around nothing, clitoris tingly each time you move your hips around and happen to squeeze your thighs a bit too close. You’re not turned into a fucking disturbing nymphomaniac pogoer for no other reasons than you being a slut, it’s something else. It’s too exciting, everything that’s happening in and outside of you, for you to care yet a little voice at the back of your head mumbles something about how maybe you should be concerned about your freakiness. Getting this horny in the middle of a dancing crowd at a concert. Could you actually come just from dancing to this performance orchestrated by the Devil?

Two large and warm hands grab your hips and drag you backwards. A semi-hard shaft pressed to your ass and a beer scented breath battling your cheek, sending a bunch of wild strands of hair away. When one of the hand slides further down your front, settling for your lower belly, you see the elegant thing, with the ridiculously long fingers adorned by the slenderest, most delicate pieces of jewellery and you smile in relief, knowing whose it is.

Taehyung follows your movement for a while, his front now clinging to your back like glue, his second arm, the one who’s kept fairly nice until now, slips around your middle to wrap itself right under your breasts where they can sit, making sure there is no way your bodies can separate. And then another song is played. It’s still one straight from the most epic rock n roll hits from the eighties, fast-paced and enraged in that particular fashion, with that sense of aiming to fuck with the world by making the most noise. But you find your body to still want to follow the beat lasciviously. You are aware of how offbeat you are but you're possessed and that’s just your body wanting to do its own thing now. You’d be embarrassed if it was not for Taehyung who now doesn’t simply match but enhances your languidness. His pressing his hand against your pelvis, the tip of his not so tiny pinky finger crushing your clit -though you don’t know if he knows it- as he intimates you the rhythm of your hips, grinding slowly his now fully erect cock against you. You’re singing in chorus with the singers, murmuring or yelling you’re not sure as the loudness is fucking deafening -and so is Taehyung even though you can’t hear his lovely gravelly voice, you can feel his chest rumbling against your back. You’re having the time of your life. You’ve reached a trance, an orgasmic nirvana. Taehyung is laughing along with you, holding you tighter and biting now and then your neck. It’s incredible. The best moment of your life and you want to cry when you think about how grateful and happy you are to share it with them.

Them. As in Taehyung and Jungkook. 

Turning your head to the side, where the latter should be standing, you find a group of cute girls with rainbow hairs instead. Your heart knocks furiously in your chest, panic over euphoria, as your eyes dance around in a frenzy only relaxing when they catch him, to your other side, slightly backed away. His eyes are closed from what you can tell, his head bobbing as all the pretty bits of his handsome face scrunch and frown over his tensed jaw. He’s wincing in that particular way people do when they’re getting blessed with good music. And seeing him agreeing with you on the magical performance you’re granted fills you with giddy happiness.

The thing is his stature looks so rigid. He, who likes to mess around with dancing since he’s been fifteen is standing buff and stiff on his strong legs, not hinting the least intent to move his hips or hands or about anything. You scowl. Displeased. You look around at the people surrounding you, all enjoying their time. Maybe he’s embarrassed? Because he’s more used to letting it go and letting the music possess his body when it’s a different genre of music. Maybe he feels a bit awkward in his sweatpants and Balenciaga sneakers, lost in a sea of long-bearded dudes with their big-exposed-bellies and sexy Mohawk chicks. Not really his crowd even though he appreciates all music and he had that emo punk phase in middle school. You’re upset and embarrassed for him, wanting him to have the freest and most shameless experience. The way Taehyung, rutting his hard cock against your ass, and you, letting your pussy drip along your inner thigh -you like to reassure yourself by silently pestering that it is sweat but you highly doubt it is- are doing. You even consider a trip back to the food truck to get him a beer, despite the hassle that it represents, but you then remember what he said earlier about not wanting to drink in an exposed environment -in other words, he can’t handle his alcohol and doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of strangers. 

Suddenly his eyes open wide and they focus right on your face. He looks, or more like observes, with an uncommon slitting on his usually endearingly round eyes. The muscles of his jaw twitch and clench a few times, his tongue presses the inside of his cheek and then his gaze, before diverting back to the giant screens projecting images of the musicians, twitches for a split second on yours and Taehyung’s attached bodies and it hits you. 

Of fucking course, he would feel uncomfortable. 

The three of you came here as a trio, beyond excited to share the probably most memorable concert of your lives. And then a few songs in, Taehyung and you are all over each other, dancing, getting to know each other’s private parts and he’s standing left alone in the back, seemingly long forgotten. Your heart aches as it contracts from the guilt. You reach for his hand which you wrap your own around, holding onto it as if your life depends on it. Which it does in a way. There’s no way you’ll enjoy this moment fully if you know your precious friend is not also having it. Just thinking about the past couple of songs you haven’t noticed anything brings an ugly shade over the bliss you were having so far. 

Jungkook lets himself dragged closer, shoulder bumping into Taehyung, looking all surprised and perplexed. You can tell from the straightening of his back to the return of his beautiful round eyes and the tight lip. You smile cheerfully, hoping your gleaming eyes will soften him down and it’s then, finally, that Taehyung realizes the exchange. His motions slow down as he focuses on the both of you trying to make out what he can of what has been going on. Perhaps it’s the desire to get back to the show, with you, that helps his loose brain work it out fast, in any case he's quick to manage to put the pieces together. He flashes an amused pout to Jungkook, before his hand -the one who’s been teasing your cunt for some time now- slides off of your body to wrap around his friend's nape. He forces his short nails in, scratches his scalp mouthing something that you can’t catch before he lets it fall to his ass which he pats affectionately a few times.

Things are settled. 

The show goes on. Taehyung wraps himself around you entirely, immersing himself back to that special zone, grinning to himself when he finds you there again. Jungkook seems less tense. At least his tongue is not poking threateningly the inside of his cheek. And his hand, no matter how slippery it gets from keeping it intertwined with yours, doesn’t let go. Now everything is perfect. There’s nothing you’d change and you enjoy this magical moment to its fullest. And sharing it with them. It feels surreal. Like a gift that you did not deserve. Undeserving but nevertheless greedy, you latch on it, feasting and bathing in this instant because you don’t know when something that special will happen again. It’s insane. You hope they feel the same.

And then you have the confirmation. The confirmation that they too felt like you, like this shared moment was too good and too precious and none of you can accept the idea that it had ended already. You need to create the memory again. Another one. As phenomenal and intense and unduplicable. 

That’s how you end up on all four, barely holding up on your forearms, cheek sticking to the skin of Jungkook’s thigh as Taehyung, on his knees, fucks you hard from behind. Because that’s special and it feels indeed phenomenal. You feel like you're dying and living, feel like sobbing yet you find yourself chuckling through the few tears running from your eyes. It feels incredible. You don’t know how much it is the whole situation. How much it is them. How much it is the foreplay the concert turned out to be. How much it is Taehyung's ministrations. Either way, you’ve never been fucked like so and it never felt so delectable. 

Taehyung shuffles a bit, sitting back on his knees instead of standing, and starts hitting upward, banging against a spot you’ve heard of but never thought you’d experience the day it will be played with. He’s not really playing though. He’s beating furiously, it’s brutish, you just know it will hurt once the pleasure is gone but for now, all you can do is take it, drooling on Jungkook's thigh while panting and whining like a bitch. The more pleasure you gather, the ball inside growing so wide, invading all senses and wearing you down, the deeper you sink into your only support: Jungkook. Your face ends up forcing a snug place against his rock hard crotch. He’s not even saying anything, complaining, moaning or anything. Sometimes you can feel his thighs jerk and tense under you. Sometimes you hear a sharp inhale. He just has one of his pretty hands smoothing your hair down tenderly and the other one is holding you somewhere but you can’t even pinpoint it. Your whole body is invaded by Taehyung in the form of sheer pleasure and all of your senses, stimulated simultaneously, blend and mix for you to be lost in a maze of delicious sensations, completely indecipherable from one another.

You render silent when it turns out to be too much. Mouth stuck agape, eyes rolled upward behind your closed eyelids. It’s Jungkook who worries first, fumbling with your hair to get it out of your flushed face. You blink once at the light, and Taehyung, growling, grabs you by the shoulders before he drags you up against him, slapping your ass with his hips continuously. 

“Babe, get up, I need to know you’re still with me. Am I doing all this just for myself?” A lamentation. Not so convincing, but a proper answer is just too much to ask from you. “Who am I doing this for?” He insists, grunting, lips pressed to your ear.

“F-for me.”

He hums contently. His voice, baritone tease, rumbles against your cheek he then kisses. “Then you're gonna take it like a good girl.”

“Yes, yes, please, I will-”

Slowly he drags his outrageously big cock out, his thickness scuffing every inch of your walls, earning a pathetic whine from you, and he starts fucking you again, quietly and nicely now as he tries to listen to your babbling about how he’s too good and it’s too much. 

“I know, baby, I know. It hurts but it’ll- fuck- it’s gonna be so good in a sec- uh-”

You’re so pliant in his arms. Lenient, unconcerned by anything, letting him have his way. At this point, you’d cry if he were not to help you release your growing orgasm, but you’d let him go away with anything as he ruined you beyond reparation, beyond sanity. You don’t mind him using you to get himself off, use you like his personal fucktoy and for some reason, having someone else, and Jungkook at that, being a witness to your desperation makes it all so much arousing. 

When Taehyung sees you playing grabby hands, your tiny fingers aiming to reach weakly for Jungkook, he decides to be nice and let go of you so that you can lend on your friend's broad chest. It takes a second for you to tear his t-shirt up and attach your wet mouth to his cute brown nipple. And finally, you can hear him properly. He lets go of more of those sharp inhales now accompanied by poorly withheld moans. And he’s squirming under you. Trembling a bit, shuffling his butt on the spot, torn between shying away and offering himself for more. You indulge in his obvious pleasure. Kissing and sucking, twisting gently with your fingers his pretty nipples until Taehyung's thrusts turn wild and raw again, too raw for you to focus on anything else and you let yourself fall forward, until face buried in Jungkook’s crotch once more, you’re getting fucked through the strongest orgasm to ever pervade you. Your twitching walls are an unforgivable treat for Taehyung's cock who’s wrung of every drip of his cum.

It takes an eternity for you two to recover. Taehyung, unmoving, still holding your hips in his gigantic hands as to balance himself and holds himself down to earth and not simply fucking take a one-way flight to outer space or some shit. He’s breathing hard, head dipped forward as trickles of sweat fall from the tip of his nose and the pointy end of his chin. 

“Fucking hell. I’m- shit, you feel good.” There's a pathetic snivel elevating from you. Apparently, it's enough of a contribution to the conversation since no one points it out. “Guk-ah, s’your turn. Good luck.” He says before he’s falling on his back, next to Jungkook, sighing loud like he’s just spent half of his life on just mounting you. 

“I don’t think he has a turn left.” You mumble, chuckling a bit. Taehyung is not sure what you mean, assuming you want to be a tease and maybe deny your younger friend of his pass. But then you’re rolling on your back, glowing face split in a cute grin, watching upward to Jungkook's face who’s turned the deepest nuance of red up to the tip of his adorable ears. Taehyung's mouth shapes in a wolf-like grin as he reaches a hand over you to grab an unsubtle grip of his friends softening dick. He bursts in his typical thundering laughter because if the semi hardness is debatable, the wet spot wetting his palm is not. 

“I think it’s hot, Jungkook.” You say kindly. You know from the deep frustration unfading on his handsome face and the cackle coming from Taehyung that you sound patronizing as fuck. Something like the typical: 'You’re doing great sweetie!' But you mean it. You genuinely mean it. Having a guy like him come in his pants potentially because of you is incredibly sexy and flattering.

“I think it’s cute.” Taehyung adds smiling like an asshole. Jungkook is infuriated when he turns to stare at his older friend. It’s the look he gives as a warning when he’s about to beat someone up.

But this time, you wonder if that look could mean anything else.

a/n: so this came to me in the middle of the night, following the Rockin’1000 concert i’d attended to and uhm... yea, this ensued. I mean can you guys imagine going to a rock concert/festival with Tae, I feel like that’s what would happen lmao. Didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it but I hope you enjoy. Let me know your thoughts. kisses !

[jrtweetsindex]

[twitter convo between Will Crooks and James Roberts @jroberts332 on 18 October 2018.

W: If Rung is literally [spoiler], why wasn’t the Sparkeater immediately attracted to him instead of Animus? Also, what did it mean by his quantum duplicate being “lost” in the engine malfunction? Thank you very much! :)

JR: He was immediately attracted to Rung (‘the brightest spark on the ship’); Animus - a bright but light snack - just got in the way. And there was no Rung 2 aboard LL2 because Rung 1 was unduplicable. ]

source

[ymanation]

I may not know everything, but there is one area of success I have mastered. That one area is an extraordinary and almost unduplicable work ethic. At the YMA Wealth Management Group Corporate office on the Real Estate floor working on a project. By September 1, 2022, I will have helped obtain $1,000,000 in Business Funding for my clients. Don't forget, YMA Business Incubator Program. Now accepting applications. The program will guide and develop 4 selected participants on how to turn their business into a Million dollar producing company. https://ymacares.org/yma-business-incubator-program/ #entrepreneurship #businessowner #businesscoach #joewallace #YMANATION (at YMA Wealth Management Group) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cgv2Ua8ukAm/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[divine-diconomy]

I painted this piece of art that is impossible and unduplicable by any artist on any level. And I’m about to lose my house, car, and have no money. I can’t sell it because it’s the first painting I’ve ever done and I’m literally about to be homeless. My guitars, my drums, my original music I’ve written…. All because I’m undiscovered. All I want to do is make art and write songs and be loved and trust me, I know how to love. The rest of the men are loving themselves and making love to themselves with their lovers bodies.

[ronaldparlato]

Despite the mud and the flies, the again incessant heat, the stagnating pools of rainwater, and the unchecked filth and pests, Evans and Chitra were slow to return to Poona.  The monsoon was an event – an unduplicable one; a once in a year event which had been a once in decades one.  They sensed that their encounter would be as temporary, unusual, and never to be repeated as the monsoon of 196_;and so committed to memory, to be respooled, replayed, and rewound again and again to be made permanent and unforgettable.

[septembersung]

This dying to oneself does not, however, mean the giving up of individuality. One contrary, the more a man becomes "another Christ," the more he realizes the original and unduplicable thought of God which he embodies.

Dietrich von Hildebrand, Liturgy and Personality, 1933 (The Hildebrand Project, 2016) p.18-19.

[florxdexcerezos]

trcshy​:

florxdexcerezos​:

A cheeky grin curved at her lips as she watched his interest soar. it delighted her to indulge her more violent fantasies, and to have someone else so invested in hearing about them? An unduplicable high. Such a change from the usual routine. “You ask a lot of questions for someone so sweet looking.” People like him usually stayed away from any sort of violent act. Looks could be deceiving. “Have you ever committed a crime?”

               The question was unexpected, causing the young male to lean back in his seat with a nervous chuckle. ❝There was that one time in kindergarten when I kidnapped a chicken from the farm we visited for a school field trip. Snuck the little guy out in my backpack and made it all the way back to school before anyone noticed.❞ Did the thievery of that candy bar from the store when he was seven count as well? Likely not, but they were about the most ‘criminal’ the young photographer had ever gotten. ❝That’s the only thing I can think of.❞

“You’re so green.” She cooed, her voice dissolving into a soft laugh. “I bet you’re real goody two-shoes, huh? Never jaywalked or.. drunk while underage.” It actually took her a moment to think of a petty crime. In Mullingar, such a small-time offence was hardly enforced. “You ever think of committing a crime? Nothing major, of course, that would be wrong, but just a little petty theft for grown-ups, like you and your chicken.”

[bidraconic]

February 24, 2017

A ray of sunshine makes its way past a tall building, refusing to be ignored. Yearning for its hello to be received by somebody, anybody, everybody. Everybody and everything. It wants to share its light with those who don’t realize they need it, and those who don’t notice they’re without it.

Flip flops flow down the sidewalk as children run -- and oh, they run. They run with the glee filled energy that’s been passed down to them by the Sun itself, and they honor it. They honor the light as they carry their feet through the streets and their laughter, so innocent, fills the mid-day air like a balloon.

And the birds, they talk. They sing. They eat. They thrive. They bask with the rest of us in the light, because they needed it, too. They spread their wings, and for a moment, they soar. Next to us, above us, on the ground below us. They soar.

The people, how they mingle. The light fills each and every one of them, and for a moment, they all have at least that in common. So much conversation, and yet not one person is speaking; the noises that fill the air do it for them. All they need to do is feel and, oh, do they feel. They feel it in their bones. In the eye-contact they just made with a stranger, where they felt more connected to them than they have to anybody in weeks. In the inaudible, but ever so clear hello that comes with a nod of the head, or the unspoken how-do-you-do that comes with a smile. Their souls intertwine and, in this moment, a look, no matter how fleeting, conveys colors of lavender and baby blue - not dissimilar to the evening sky - and an irreplaceable, unduplicable feeling of content. Of connection.

And the plants, they flourish. Soaking up the late winter snow as it bids this particular plot of land and its patrons goodbye (for now), it seems as though the water and the sun and the air and the light have already made them all the brighter. They shake with the wind; a dance to show that they, too, are happy. They, too, are content.

And the wind, a soothing caress. Carrying warmth, delivering it to us like a postman; but wait! There’s more! An extra package for those who can smell, scents mingled from across the city. Thai food, from the shop on the corner. Pine, from a tree down the block. Gasoline, from the bus that just passed. Fresh soil, finally exposed after a season of hibernation. That person’s perfume, which smells just like somebody you once knew.

And a moment. A moment in which somebody, somewhere, took a deep breath -- took all of this in, and thought,

“Holy shit, I’m alive.”

[exaltedchimera]

It is statistically proven that stating alcohol as a definition of your character makes you 100x more unique than the average individual Congratulations you've proven your unduplicable individuality

[quotespictures]

| MY TUMBLR BLOG |

The spark of genuine curiosity in one’s eyes exudes charm otherwise unduplicable.

fine more in: quotespictures.co

[dhanashriacademy]

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