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[astralnymphh]

FARM ELLIE >>>>>>

cw + info: femme!reader, horndog ellie, farm ellie, outdoor sex, fingering (r!receiving)

　　　mdni  !!  nsfw  content  ahead  ౨ৎ

we all know farm ellie was a bit frisky at times… a big farm all to yourselves, she's of course going to take advantage of it. that's your place now, and she'd have marked territory by bending you over every surface in the house at least once or twice. but she'd also be taking advantage of the fact that there's simply no one else around. if ellie wants you, she's going to have you. doesn't matter where, when. outside, inside, day or night.

like when you wear a new milkmaid dress for the first time ever, and seem to miss the wandering eyes of your bewitched wife as you walk outside to hang laundry out to dry. ellie's not sure what exactly it is about this dress that has caught her attention. perhaps the way it tightly accentuates your top half, or it's the easy access of being able to come behind you and slide her hands beneath the skirt, calloused fingers grazing your thighs. a heavy sigh breathed through her nose hits your neck, and tiny kisses pepper down your neck.

"horndog," you murmur, standing on tiptoes to hang some panties up. the action causes the dress to ride up and all ellie can do is grin. she nips at your neck before replying,

"you love it." sloppy kisses meet the curve of your shoulder now, her free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you pressed firmly to her. her hand beneath the dress lightly moves its way up to cup your panties. ellie's lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you sigh softly, completely pausing your activity. you just lean back, and ellie takes her time pressing against your clit, holding her hand over you, her purpose being to make you desperate. she won't do anything else, feeling your panties soil more and more until you start to let out little whimpers. only then (because she's honestly more desperate than you, at this point) does she have the mercy to lean against the fence, pull your panties to the side and fill you with her fingers. and nobody's there to witness it but the clouds and the setting sun.

farm ellie blurb mmmmmmmmm !!!!! ngl think this one might be a flop for me. but i wanted to write about her so bad right now, i'm actuals desperate um. that's literally my wife husband baby daddy all in one right there. she got me pregnant. trust me bro

[astralnymphh]

*points at her pussy* ummmm are you gonna finish that? *tummy grumbles loudly*

[astralnymphh]

🇵🇸💚 Journalists in North Gaza request water, get full meal, “This is just how we are. These are our traditions!”

🔸 Source: eye on palestine (main post), mahmoud._.shalha20 (footage) and translatingfalasteen (translation)

[astralnymphh]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

tbh high sub!ellie smoking a joint while ur tribbing w her. all cherry-eyed gazing up at you with every bit of vulnerability on display. YIPPEE!

erm. what the freak. i need her.

the blunt being passed between you and ellie was slowly becoming smaller with every shared inhale and exhale.

her eyes were watering, from desperation and how utterly perfect the scene in front of her was; your cunts rubbing together, wetness from both of you mixing where it meets.

“‘s sofuckin’ good mama, so wet n’ messy for me, i love it.”

“yeah els? you like when i have you moaning like a slut?”

all she could respond with was another whimper as smoke leaves her mouth slightly. you grab the blunt from her, taking a long hit as you rub your pussy agonizingly slow across hers.

hand moving before you can think, it grips ellie’s face tightly, bringing it in for a sloppy kiss. you push the smoke from your mouth into hers, muttering a small ‘inhale f’me baby’.

and she did, listening to you like the good girl she is.

taglist; @syrenada @satellitespinner @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @ellieslob @starlynnr @enhanct @s4pphicslutt @marsworlddd @sapphiclesbli @ruelliee @antonellavanella @lasting-lover @desireesfics @marvelwomenarehot0 @elliessslut @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @a-little-bit-of-everybody @aouiaa @fairydxll @seraphicsentences @prwttiestbunny @callmewhenyoukan

[astralnymphh]

I see your "ellie x quiet climaxers" and I raise you "ellie x lover who's so loud she has to force them to be quiet when they climaxes or else there will be a noise complaint" so much of that smug condescending tone that says "oh yeah? I'm making you feel so good that you can't shut the fuck up? I'm sure." and maybe a few of those "shut up" voice lines just a thought

— MDNI. overstim n' mean!dom!ellie. ellie + lovers who are loud during climax!! do you realize how much pride it instills when you pervade her ears with such a volume— a trio of her lithe fingers gathered inside your pussy, thumb smushing your poor clit? an unthinkable amount; it invades corners of her mind you wouldn't see active in any other hour of the day. in assertive spirit, she berates you, "can't keep that mouth shut cause'm makin' you feel so good? that it? shut the fuck up. if jesse complains, I won't be there to defend your ass." right as your cunt saturates the length of her fingers in cum, and clenches perfectly to where it punches moans through your abdomen, "unnhhh! stop els!" waterlogging your throat with the wails of overstimulation. "stop? stop? mh-mn babe, you can take it like a good girl. just— hmn, just need to—" out of your peripherals, her left arm reaches behind her laid body, swiping back with a clump of cherry plaid balled in her fist and introduces the cottony fabric to your lips— contrary hand still playing your pussy to an eye-rolling stretch. like lightwork, two fingers pry your jaw open and press the boxer clump in-between; her last-minute plan to choke your tone to inexistence. "just need to practice, yeah? chew that shit up all you want. I don't care." sure, lessening the speed in which she pumps her digits and orbits her thumb through your folds would've been a kinder, and simpler solution, au fond. but that's not as fun now, is it? ellie, will use her fingers however the fuck she wants to. besides: they look so pretty stuffed in your pussy— why would she pull out now?

[astralnymphh]

the REAL astralnymphh.

Not me I don't claim this ❌️ Glimple me ❤️

[astralnymphh]

Update: North Gaza Aid!

As part of his promise, Hussam sent 20% of your HelpGazaChildren donations ($4000) to Mahmoud AbuSalama for the 5th time now, including the earlier North Gaza Campaign (as location on our notion site) to buy food and necessary products for families still surviving the dire situation in North Gaza. The food package contains, as you see in the picture below: flour, lentils, canned food, formula, diapers, and women pads!

Please continue donating and spreading the word — every penny means so much! Feel free to share our campaign link to other platforms as well!

Donate to our GoFundMe which goes directly to Hussam, who manages camps in Rafah, with NO middleman in between!

HelpGazaChildren Notion Site || #helpgazachildren tag

GoFundMe Link

[Quick ID: The video is of Mahmoud speaking in front of bags of flour and a tumblr sign. There are captions to the video in english. The image below is of groups of packages of items in front of a tumblr sign.]

[astralnymphh]

🚨 Students at Harvard University launched an encampment in support of Gaza in Harvard Yard moments ago, calling for an end to Harvard's moral and material complicity in the ongoing genocide of the Palestinian people.

Harvard has invested over $200 million of its over $51 billion endowment in companies with ties to zionist settlements in the West Bank, while most of its investments to the zionist entity are kept secret.

The students are demanding financial transparency regarding investments related to the zionist entity, as well as genocide and occupation in Palestine; divestment from these investments and reinvestment in Palestine; and dropping all charges against student activists.

The University has suppressed student voices in support of Palestine time and time again, suspending the Palestine Solidarity Committee just this week on baseless grounds. They have also enabled attacks on pro-Palestinian students from the media and politicians. Today, the students say enough is enough, and that they will no longer tolerate their institution's support for genocide.

This brings the number of ongoing encampments to 19, with more to come.

[astralnymphh]

so excited for bbf!ellie but I haven't forgotten about ellie w breed and lactation kink

if you're still writing that I'll be happy to read it when it's ready but if not I'll still be happy to read your other works, I looove your work you have such a way with words, it's like reading poetry💓

yupp! i just needed a break from it tbh, because the details just got that crazy 😭😭 literally 10k words in and the main event hasn't even reached its peak. i am serving a full 5 course meal with that fic!! tsym tho ily!!

[astralnymphh]

MDNI — had an idea. just a quickie little blurb. ellie + reader who isn't close to climax simultaneously + tribbing! not talked about enough, though it is realistic, honestly. the sweet heart palpitations it would deliver when ellie's on the brink, huffing and puffing, glistening as a shiny lake, eyes blurring between wide-open and fairly-heavy, her cheeks hollowing out every single exhale you know is for you, you know is a sign of her nearing high— but you're not close. all you feel is the stick of sweat and heat adhering you to her and the bed. "fuuckk, babe. so good with ur' hips, hah— yessss m' gonna fucking come.." she growls every vowel, the force of them felt gratingly in the air. and she tosses her head; opens the trunk of her neck to the heavens abiding, and fists the sheets her two arms relied dearly on. "m' n-not close, ellie." you squeak, and she stops. earnestly. with a smooth recoil forth of her head, snapping back in place, she eyes your knitted expression and soothes it over with an appreciative one. understanding. unfurling her pink tongue between the shut of her lips and smacking. "it's okay," kills the volume with how silent she is. sets aside the pleasure she's built up by slowly parting her wet pussy from yours— clits almost refusing to let go, the only thing connecting you still being a tether of her slick stuck to your slit. bedsheets rustling and hissing as her legs unravel from the crest of your thighs and find new purchase at the hind, kneeling in front of you. "lemme' help you." insisted she softly, and all of a sudden, the shadow she cast across you halfed into a smaller one as her head and torso dipped downward, parking her face directly in the barely-throbbing gap between your legs. orals numerous kisses around your pussy lips, and presses a few praises into the actual plush of them, "so good t'me," perhaps— happy, that you lacked pleasure beforehand, so she could take it into her own hands. "she just needed my tongue instead, huh? likes my attention?"

[ellie photo from a collab on ellies.galaxy on insta!]

[astralnymphh]

before the flora.

knight!ellie x princess!reader teaser. beginning is essentially just lore. bonus excerpt with ellie and princess interaction below the sketch. wrote the intro in january. no warnings tbh. illustration by @trackinglessons :P READ THIS . PALESTINE MASTERPOST

When the universe was born, there was only fire; a slowly waning blaze. And so hence when death begins to unfurl its low, groaning bloom— there will only be ice.

Yet the heavens and earth are nay alike, as death— and life, are interwoven by the timeless nuptial that is humans, and Mother Nature. Cordial and tepid heartbeats meet with her frigid and frightening marrow this season. Flakes are falling, a howl swells in the wind, and hearths stay an undying tongue of flame in the province of Istenad. Isle of riches and hedonism gone rampant amongst those who proved meritful of a conversation spat over gilded chalices. Or those who wiped a famished tongue stroke over the sole of His Majesty— The King's tan leather boots in entreat, declaring the hide a tenfold more gullet–watering than their stale, daily spare of bread. Where high life reins, low life is there to scrub their steeds.

The wintry pearlescent tundra fringing around uncharted woodlands hums your name— it carries by gale, an airy reed of vowels pulled through your ears. 

Tut, tut, tut, the pecking of bark.

Everything seems to resound much heavier over the windows thick limestone sill. Woodwinds, the sough of pine boughs— a chorus wafted. Woodpeckers, they beat rigid timber with their sonnets of calling. The echoed tut starts to sound awfully kindred to a beckoning call of your name. And at daybreak, when the tangerine sun dips its head under the coast, you feel a magnetic lull to traverse your truest passions and slip away into the night, arctic chilled steel in hand. The quantity of hay sticking beneath your shoes collected by skittering across the night–doused thoroughfare was well enough to concern your maids on duty to dress you, brows fuddled at the streaming of straw near your door come morning.

Loop of your knuckles, bend of your wrist, a hand flexed on the hilt of a meticulously poached sword. A swing 'round your waist, a cold hale grip the air could taste, fighting off many mythic brutes of moonlight, however only conceived where dreams are airtight. The mind, it plays. The play it perceives, a viewing spread like tawny butter. Ghouls and ghastlies encircle a quaint pond, chanting away in cryptic grumbles and beastly bumbles, enraged with their slobber frothing at the fangs you tore from their sockets— deeper than artless, juxtaposed to the blinding ruby reds and dyed paper sunflowers of the theater. Your mind’s play felt real.

Unfortunate to your heart, dreams will stay dreams.

Nary a princess was meant to tune into melee, especially at your courting age. Nevertheless, your psyche has spurned from what a maiden is expected of and is completely in a haven of your own structure, your signature sanctuary. 

In the farmsteads, a forthcoming soldier harvests not just crop— but dexterity. Derived and nurtured in the faraway prairie village of Dunwich, where the fertile seasons prove flaxen of corn and the trickling sweat of every farmhand turns to gold. Any newborn granted to this quaint village is fated to form calloused hands with labor written in their palm lines as time unfolds. In their— well, her— adolescent years, the yearning for practices of gallantry in knighthood swiveled her sights to the colossal stone castle way.. way far away. Sprouting beyond the earth line, far as the eye can see.

So, she learned, she trained, she slept, partaking in a ranged cycle taught by her ruthlessly departed father: Sir Joel. Reprisal became her nemesis; never able to rend the barrier of hesitation and cleanse her shut eyes of revolting imagery. The horseman of death was not omitting the trauma of this hazel-haired soldier. A weight so burdensome, her speckled skin remembers the tales of every scar clawed into it. Like how the lips of a bard cling to an everlasting ballad.

Every knight knew well to exile any lingering ties to the past. It's been years since he passed, she understands that. Though, the heart never lies, and certainly never covets forgetting.

Ambitions stemming from legions of knights in waiting have fallen short, submerging within the moat of the castle and sinking deep into the catacombs with no elegy sung. An allegory for dreams long since vanished. A domain so valued longs for those biding life with rigid bones, such as she. Tempered by the hardships, endured like metal meeting the blacksmith's chisel. 

A vividness to her movements, flowing like a river. For it is water that soothes the most cosmic fires, carves veins into the earth's soil, descends from the heavens above and proves iron soluble. A knight so pinpoint and poised like a painter, yet so daring and baneful like a warrior of evenfall. An artisan of her craft, this knight-to-be is. Born to thrive in matters regarding protection of their kingdom and its nobility. By the sheer tenacity of her skill, she will excel. From the self–instructed lessons in a verdant pasture, basked by undying light in her hometown— to the ordained priming within the royal court. 

They were forged to be dutiful. 

You are a daughter of the illustrious King, Sagard, and swan–grace queen, Sagard— maiden name Adela, and sister of your highly revered and cherished kin, Prudence. Subsequent to her fabled rise, was your fall. A pratfall you plainly turned a serene ear from, for you foresaw its coming. Clandestine adventures and lollygagging in the marketplace earned you right in the clasp of consequences. You knew that, knowing it kept you on the balls of your toes before you'd be caught suiting into an act more repugnant— be it, no.. befogging yourself in a peasant boys' dire–in–muck rags, merely to play "boy" games as a young one? 

Sacrilege! 

Prudence was there, at every occasion, scolding with her youthful finger at the palace fore, sucking her fingertip wet of spit and dragging a stroke over your soot–strewn cheek, just before scuttling the halls in search of father, cawing, “Father, Father! My sisters become a boy again!” until it rang his fucking ears to a pulse. Hmph, father even countered his own remark of squawk, pouring through the walls, “Hah! The second son I wish I reared! Tell me, what peasants skin does she clad: butcher's boy, or of the farmer?”

Rebuking the role of royalty isn't your entire bastion of vengeance. You purely long for a world of your own color. Your self-brewn arcadia of art. In a concise phrase, desire for sovereignty. And your family chastised you curtly for every scant display of free will, short of the Queen, she is fair.

Daughter of the King, Princess of the thicket. You retain your fortunes. Modestly.

“Why don't you resemble your sister more?”

A ruby crested box designed by the best of goldsmiths is lodged at the margin of your beds footboard, safekeeping of your esteemed regalia. You possess a bedazzled amassing of circlets, veils, brocade and velvet tunics of long lengths within this box. But do any of them revel in the blessing of being worn on regal skin? Never. You opted for garbs of less gilding and jewels, so that you might taint it with whatever adventures mold under the ribbing of your foot. That shit offended your skin with its indelicacy of forgetting a human will don its fabric golds and woven jewels.

Even— court gatherings. You don the likeness of simplicity and temperate elegance. This morning's virginal aurora, a broach of light swoll from the windows arch, to the footing of your bed, made the wake of your eyes begin upon a lighting behind sheer skin. Your box of regalia shone in that incandescence momentarily. It danced, fleeter than you, irkingly so. You had to squint whilst flipping the clasps and hauling the heavy lid slanted against your bed, or else you may be heaven–blinded. “Every inch of Princess,” you intoned in quietude at the sight of glamored fabrics, “—whom I shant mirror.” and reached for the homelier fabrics, scratch of cobalt-blue linen delight brushing under your prints, you grasped your reserve tight.

“I was not made aware that there is a village wedding to be, dear sister— from what river does this dress of rags hail from?”

“It is not a brides dress, nor rags, leave me Prud—”

Prudence had blocked the shut of your chamber door with her hand flattened, pursuing, “You glum your gems. Rotting in that chest, tasting no light, no glory.”

You kept your lips thickly sown shut, casting dimly eyes to the ground.

“Shall I send for the steward so he may sell—”

“No need.”

“Hmm, most stubborn, are we? Then I—”

“I am least stubborn,” you wedged your fingers beneath her palm, prying the door loose, “—it is you, who strays your own counsel, unmoving as a mountain.” ending with the trudging shut of your door, ceasing in silence.

[++ bonus excerpt from act 2, scene 1]

“Uh–huh..” she draws out. Legato; a sarcastic reply, and wipes her tongue through the press of her lips together, “This far out? You must rebel quite often to have made a friend, I bet?” she tilts her head, a bit playful.

“You bet well— a lot, I assume?” 

Cannily, she winks, “Indeed I do.” and aligns her face onward. Gesturing to her horse's rump a second— third? Eh, whatever time— she jerks her brow with a head cock back, “Hop on, I'll take you there.”

Both brows fall, and you flinch bemused, “Wh– uh,” as you hem and haw for words, grating a stutter, “But not a moment ago you spoke of the roads recent perils—”

“Surely it's not far?” she spoke presumptuously, “I mean, you've come this far, My Lady. Nobody would travel the woods past sunset, besides you it seems.” now a matter–of–fact vocal barricade that shoves itself into your ears and winds the cogs to think cleverly.

You shan't know my transgressions, sweet Knight. You may talk.

Trust is sparse as a puddle marched in.

“‘Tis but a mile out. Bravo on your convincing, Williams.” you wry and scoff. 

“Can't fumble that name, huh?”

“I would not want to dishonor your knighthood.” 

“You honor me with your coincidental presence, Princess.”

“Honor in your mind.”

"Hmph," her breathy chuckle, a sweetness you luckily caught with ears even numbed by the snowsquall. Do not blush. Do not smile. Fuck. Guess you'll be visiting Malina after all, the gale of a displeased sigh icing your lips over as you approach that dangling stirrup.

[astralnymphh]

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[astralnymphh]

Abbys reaction to you telling her how hot she is while making out: "you're so hot I can't stand it it drives me crazy." - maybe the first time or one of the first times

all my love is free | abby anderson

tags: eighteen+, lesbians obsessed with each other, had to post during lesbian visibilty week like c'mon???, just a big bag of fluff packaged with light steam, abby being a nervous goofball, sfw with suggestive themes.

an. sorry i kind of disappeared with posts. new collab is taking over my brain. but wanted to at least post something. can't wait for y'all to get a taste. until then, i'll be finishing the requests in my inbox (hopefully). with all the love, ray.

the end of your first date with abby marks a colossal milestone, especially for the two of you. the moment almost seemed monumental. taking one year of abby’s pining, six months of flirting and six months of tiptoeing while you were with someone else. respectfully, waiting until a month after the breakup, she asks you out.

unimaginable expectations abby had before going into tonight, but all she had to offer it seems was her nerves. god, she was acting like a dumb, mumbling, dork tonight. saying the first thought coming to mind, but it makes you laugh. when abby nearly eats it on the sidewalk, tripping over a crack of grout in the cement. your soft angelic voice taking her out for a moment, the only thing centering her from having a meltdown. 

“baby, are you alright? be careful, honey.” there it is, angelic. “wouldn’t want you to fall.” the first pet names hurled her way by you, making her heartbeat faster than she could keep up with. you cut her off at her knees, ensuring you are the only person she could ever want.

cutting her off at the knees.

it’s pretty obvious who was in control the entire night. if the two of you are friends, this night has a year of expectations, hopes, goals to meet and abby felt like she was failing. deeply.

as she walks you up to the front door, she knows the only thing she accomplished was letting you down. nothing went the way she thought it was going to. everything felt off. worst of all, your silence snuffs her out, completely.

you grab her hands, pulling her up the stairs with you. the collar feels too hot, tense, off. delicate fingers playing with the collar before you unclasp the buttons, keeping down before you move to her chest, placing your hand on abby’s inconsistent heartbeat.

“can i? s’tense, need you to loosen up for me. alright?” abby nods, accepting you can read her like the back of your hand. she just doesn’t want you to stop touching her. “get out of this head of yours. s’just me and you, no one else.” your nimble fingers pop the first three buttons, revealing her freckled chest, dipping into her sternum, giving you a delicious preview. she takes a deep breath, and you believe it’s the first one she’s allowed herself since she showed up with a bouquet of flowers in hand. 

“‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin tonight. i just— it’s you. y’know? i’ve never wanted someone like this. been friends for ages and this is just everything. you are everything. i’ll never live with myself if i let you slip through my fingers.” her heartbeat calms under your touch the longer abby speaks, bringing a warmness to your own. “don’t worry about all of it. you’re not going to. i won’t let you.” 

“okay.” abby says as she gets lost in the light in your eyes. the fire visible behind yours. the way she’s looking at you? fuck. unimaginable desire — all for you. it almost seems too good to be true. like you don’t deserve it. waiting for the pin to drop, all the misery drowning you with it. “did you have a good time tonight?” 

“yes baby, i did.” you smirk as she inches forward, closing you into your front door. back pressed against it, her small breasts pressed to your chest, her free hand extended, next to your head as it lays flat on the door.

“s’good. wouldn’t want to kiss you if the date was bad.” all the confidence is back. the abby who flirted with you shamelessly for months on end. knowing you’re happy is enough for her. it’s all she needs to know to let the loser in her fall to ashes. but you taking the reins for a moment, does something so visceral inside her. she nearly doesn’t know how to act until her instincts kick in. 

she’ll satisfy you — just in the way she knows how. 

“what are y—” abby pressed her body weight into you, strong hips pinning you against the door using one of her hands to pin both of yours above your head. you’re whimpering, signaling your shock but the whine omitting from your lips tells abby your pussy is shocked. soaked.

“doing what i should have done months ago.” her pink plump lips meet yours, taking complete control over you. but you welcome it with open arms. she grunts in your mouth causing you to gasp as abby’s tongue enters your mouth. massaging it with yours in a swift battle for dominance. 

it’s too much but also not enough. you’re grinding against her, your crotch kissing hers as you lift a leg, wrapping it around her waist. she continues kissing you like her entire life depends on it. not letting you feel anything but her. she’ll be your everything and you’re not leaving until you understand it just as much as her. “abs—” you mumble in her mouth, abby relinquishes the tight grip on her hands.

immediately your hands are woven in her hair. tugging at the golden hair, as you try to pull her closer to you, if it was even possible. but the two of you have to come up for air, abby the first one to break as she chuckles at both of your heaving chests. 

“fuck, you’re so hot, baby. can’t stand it.” you peck her lips softly. admiring how puffy and swollen they look from her ministrations. god, you want her to devour you once again. “‘m, drives me crazy.” you admit, taking in the intoxicating smirk on her face. you’re not made into a fumbling mess easily. the both of you know it. that’s how abby knows it is her bones, she has you. fuck, she can’t ever imagine letting go. 

[astralnymphh]

[astralnymphh]

free palestine bitches and fuck nyu fuck harvard fuck yale fuck usc fuck colombia fuck ut

[astralnymphh]

[astralnymphh]

SICK of reading fics that are basically "omg u got groped by a man without ur consent and now i'm jealous and have to fuck u to show the world ur MINE"

i want COMFORT !!!!! NOT WEIRD MISPLACED JEALOUSY.....WHY R U JEALOUS OVER NONCONSENSUAL TOUCHING GROW UP