#and i still have the sheet of erling to do!!!

[insanescriptist]

Cremation is just another fun(erl) service

So blaming random 4am thoughts that have been plaguing me all day for this

----

Jason woke to a bright room, thin sheets and the smell of a hospital embedded in his body.

First as always, assess. Hospital. No affiliation printed on the walls or anywhere. Private room, but small. That door looked like it led to a private bathroom. Generic flower picture, a mounted screen turned off. Really fucking bright sunlight from the windows.

There was no fucking way he was in Gotham then. Everything was too nice. Normal by standards outside of Gotham. There were blinds, not metal shutters. The walls were cleaner than Gotham allowed outside of Downtown and he could see greenery through the window.

Okay. So what had he been doing? Jason remembered and then wished he had his Jerichos to shoot himself with. Mystic Shit™. Okay. Okay. That was not one of his better ideas, but if he's recovering in a hospital, it worked. World saved.

So recovery. How fucked was he?

His skin looked so fucked. Which meant he had been worse. He's had time to recover and lose muscle tone in, going by how twiggy his arms were. His hands looked good. Clearly someone knew he cared about those if they went through the effort of restoring those.

Hmm, that was odd. No matter how much Jason hated the Lazarus Pits and all its by-products, it would have been a faster and more simple way to recover from near-death than the long incarceration in a hospital for a John Doe.

Jason wasn't sure if he'd been abandoned yet again by those who called themselves his family because he could, "take care of himself," or if he had been written off dead. Again.

Hospital beat the coffin by a long shot.

And it was with that cheery thought, a nurse -obvious meta human nurse- came in and burst into excited Japanese, because that was of course, his luck.

It's after the nurse and doctors leave that Jason loses his shit.

It looks like he's sulking in bed, but mentally everything in his head is exploding. Imploding.

Three. Fucking. Years. Coma.

Burn victim so bad they not only expected him to die in the first couple of days, but still expect it because of the infection risk his fucked up skin represents.

Still the conversation with the medical staff -of varying degrees of bizarre- was enlightening.

No, he has no idea who he is. Did he ever get anyone visit? How did he get here?

Of course some amnesia is to be expected. No, some of the nurses visited. No one knows how he got here.

Does he know what his quirk is? Uh?

Trauma blocked amnesia, the doctor mutters.

What's the last date he remembered?

Saturday. Maybe? The last year? No, I'm pretty sure my memory is shit and I'm trying hard not to freak out over not knowing anything. So could I get the year number?

And then there's the fucking year number. Once he got it translated into more normal terms.

Mystic Shit™ said fuck you to the future.

Except Jason knows this is not his future. Again, if it was, this would have been treated as a fucking inconvenience. Effective skin restoration goop -the proper name escaped him- was easily available to those with the right connections. A normal baseline human with 2nd and 3rd degree burns would be fine in less than two weeks with it, with nary a trace to show for it.

Thanks to the three year coma, his muscles were all atrophied as fuck, despite their best attempts at physical therapy. Because of all the burns and later burn scars and infections making it basically impossible to actually do fuck all about maintaining muscle tone until he was basically burnt skin and bones anyway.

He was so fucking weak now. It wouldn't last forever. He'd escape this hospital before he was discharged, before whatever "benefactor" showed up for whatever "purpose," he was suppose to serve now, as they had the medical debt over his head or was threatening his loved ones or whatever. If one didn't show up in the next week, he was losing his genre-savviness, because shitheads always wanted to claim shit, if it looked useful.

And Jason was used to looking useful, until he was no longer useful and they just didn't care. The amnesia made him less shiny, but Jason couldn't pull off the brain dead zombie imitation without actually being a brain dead zombie crawling up out of his grave.

So under the thin hospital sheets, Jason twitched his muscles.

Two weeks of emotional freak outs, watching the news, physical therapy and drugs Jason had had enough.

And he broke out.

----

Yeah, he regretted it almost immediately. Hard not to in the stupid paper gown, barefoot and bare ass.

Thankfully people were people, even with the plethora of meta humans he had seen, so it actually wasn't hard to find clothes. Someone left a hoodie in their car and Jason broke into said car. Put on the hoodie. Hotwired the car and drove off.

Somehow for being in the fucking future by two centuries and change, cars really hadn't changed. More evidence of Mystic Shit™ slamming him sideways.

He drove to the next town over, picked another direction, drove some more. Parked the car near what looked like a chop shop, negotiated the car for some money. He probably got ripped off, but better than nothing.

He walked to a corner store, bought some flip-flops after bullshitting an excuse that his had broken. First aid stuff. You know, for his feet. Hair dye in three different colors, because Rose Wilson could pick out a bad dye job at a hundred meters and so Jason learned how to dye his own hair properly so as to avoid her mockery, only to get mockery (affectionate) anyway.

It was a mix of instinct and lifelong observation that let him find an empty apartment quickly. He stole some sweatpants and passed out on the bed.

----

The thing is, Jason doesn't regret his crimes like Bruce thinks he ought to do, with a massive pity party and flaming self-hatred and punching criminals instead of shooting them. He hates the necessity of doing crimes, even if that crime is a net gain to society, but that's why all his serious crimes are premeditated. He's homicidal, not a psychopath.

Not Pit-mad either, no matter what the rest of them might have thought.

Again, he's homicidal, not a psychopath. And when he doesn't have to be some sort of costume soldier to be discarded by family for the disgrace of disfiguring the memory of a dead boy? He's actually chill and boring.

That is to say, he crashed at that apartment for three days, felt progressively more like himself, especially after the dye job -white hair all over, now a solid and boring black- but it still didn't change all the other issues the Mystic Shit™ inflicted on him.

This body isn't actually his. Too young, scars not right where the burns didn't fuck him over. Thankfully his existing coping mechanisms for dysphoria work and it's shoved to the side.

It's also a shit body. Not even a month out of a three year coma with inadequate -by his standards- of medical care. It's weak and building muscle to do everyday civilian shit, is going to take months to do. Pushing as hard as he did during the escape wrecked him the next three days. Jason may not know what's going to happen, but with his luck, it's going to suck and training is preparing to make it suck less. The only certainty he's got is that his skin or lack thereof is going to kill him from infection if he doesn't fix it.

He's got no legal identity here. Which basically puts him back onto familiar ground of legally dead.

Beyond the lack of paperwork, he's got a lack of funds. He also has no easy target to steal funds and equipment from, even just for fun.

For more disadvantages, he's in a different country, with different laws and a whole different culture. He would be climbing on board a fucking plane to Gotham, if it existed in this world, for some familiar ground.

He really is the unluckiest Robin. It also means he is also the most prepared Robin.

---

The first six months after waking up in this mockery world of heroics were the absolute worst.

He started at one foot in the grave and crawled out of it before the casket could really eat him alive. Jason had experience in casket busting. He didn't wanna repeat it.

He still didn't know who he was -in who was he inhabiting- but it wasn't like Jason had a lot to go on. 'His' quirk was thermo-manipulation, most obviously in the blue fire he could call to his hands but he could do some ice too; it was thanks to Duke's light and shadow manipulation that he had even tried for the duality. He had white hair. Presumably Japanese heritage but quirks had really erased or blurred a lot of racial lines. Also presumed dead and young.

Access to the Quirk Registry took some doing, but again, not everyone followed basic computer security, much less what it took to keep someone bat-trained out of their systems. Again, for nearly two centuries in the future, a lot of the technological development had stagnated. Searching through the Quirk Registry hadn't yielded any result but none of his other methods had struck anything either. And he had looked at the recently dead and/or presumed dead. Sure, he had some leads that looked viable, but he wasn't going to follow those up yet.

He had fixed a few of his most pressing issues the past six months. His ignorance of the local area, the local and national politics and so on. This world supported and had an entire industry catering to making child soldiers and sell their image and reputation to make money and more child soldiers that called themselves Heroes.

His weak ass body no long cried doing daily tasks and only hated him after working out. Yes, Jason was pushing it but he was well aware of how months of preparation could mean shit in the face of seconds.

His infection risk was severely reduced after quick research bender let him make the most generic knock-off brand of the skin restoration goop in a shitty homemade lab. Did it fix his skin being patchwork fucked in places? Some. He wasn't going to get feeling back properly, but at least he looked more normal. Maybe with enough moisturizing he might look a little less Frankenstien's monster.

He also had a cash inflow. It wasn't great, but it supported his apartment. And the second set of papers. And the 2nd apartment.

Which meant in grand old tradition for Jason, time for him to bounce to the next apartment and come up with a new name.

[riahollywood]

could I request something where it’s your time of month and you accidentally get blood on erling’s bedding and you’re scared he’ll be angry but he just wants to look after you? 🥹 ty x

warning: mentions of a toxic ex and blood!

you silently cursed to yourself as you were awoken by a sharp stabbing pain in your lower tummy. you could’ve only been asleep for a couple of hours after struggling to get off to sleep with the excruciating pains, but had eventually managed to drift off wrapped up in erling’s arms and clenching a hot water bottle to your body.

shifting your legs slightly to try and get comfy, you mumbled a quiet and frustrated ‘oh no’ to yourself as you felt the all too familiar wetness through to your pyjama shorts.

you managed to wriggle your way out of erling’s grip. he was in a deep slumber and hummed to himself before turning over. you breathed a sigh of relief, at least you didn’t have to deal with him.

you pulled back the sheets and scampered across to the en-suite after grabbing some fresh clothes to change into. you tried to be as quiet as possible to not awake erling but it was proving to be a difficult task as you ran the tap and flushed the toilet. you just hoped he was so tired out from training the previous day that he would still be snoring away.

you opened the en-suite door and your heart dropped when you saw erling sat up in bed, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“baby…” he spoke, a look of concern plastered across his face.

the light from the en-suite shone out into the bedroom and as you walked over to the bed you noticed a pool of blood on the white bed sheets.

you felt the heat rush to your cheeks. you had only been seeing each other for a few months. with you suffering from bad periods every month, erling had been nothing but an absolute sweetheart, buying you chocolate and ice cream, making sure you had a hot water bottle at all times and giving you extra cuddles. but a bad experience with an ex boyfriend had left you scarred after one evening you accidentally got blood on his shorts and he went crazy at you.

it was because of this that you stood there frozen, looking at the blood on erling’s crisp white bedding that probably cost hundreds. you felt your throat close up and tears prickling at your eyes.

he scooted forwards on the bed so he could reach out to you, dangerously close to the blood that he was seemingly unphased about as he reached a hand out.

you still couldn’t help but think the worst.

“sweetheart, come here.” he beconded you to come into his arms but you still stood frozen. had he not seen the blood?

“i’m so sorry… i… i didn’t realise…” you muttered out, glancing over to the crimson stain and bracing yourself for the shouting that you were sure was to come.

erling shook his head. here we go, you thought.

you were surpised by what he did next.

he got up off the bed and scooped you up into his arms before sitting back down onto the bed against the headboard, with you on his lap.

“are you okay? are you all sorted, do you need me to get you anything?” you searched his voice for sarcasm but it seemed he was being genuine. you were confused.

“i’m really sorry, i-i’ll replace the sheets.” you mustered out, a tear now slipping down your cheek.

“shh, darling stop saying sorry. you have nothing to apologise for.” he rested his forehead against yours to make sure you knew he really meant it.

“but… i’ve ruined your sheets .” you spoke softly, avoiding his gaze.

he used his finger to tilt your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“baby it’s just a bit of blood… these things happen, i can buy more sheets. all I’m concerned about is you and if you’re okay.”

your eyes lit up at his words.

“really?” you asked, sniffling as you tried to wipe away the few tears that had now fallen.

he took a moment to take in your reaction. “did you think I would be angry with you?”

you shrugged. “well… yeah.”

all he did was bring you in closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you.

“baby, i would never be mad at you for something like that… never.” he kissed the top of your head and you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, feeling relieved. he wondered if this had happened to you before, perhaps with an ex who had not been so nice about it. the thought made erling grip you even tighter as he peppered as few more kisses to your face.

he brushed those thoughts to the back of his head. you were safe with him, he would never shout at you or do anything to scare you. all he wanted to do was look after you.

“what do you say i run you a nice hot bubble bath, you relax, i’ll get us some clean sheets and then we have the biggest cuddles ever?”

- - -

send me a request here!

[kalembappe]

smut where wakes erling up reader by licking/loving readers breaststores

You might be sleeping | e.h. 9 wordcount: 1335 (NOT PROOFREAD) a/n: I know what some of you are about to say; "WHERE'S PT.2 FOR CRY BABY??" WELL I have come across writers block. So here's a smut (kind of fluffy towards the end) I also got the title from this song

The door to your flat is enough to signal that Erling’s home. He steps inside, it’s still in your apartment. Normally you call out his name from the bedroom when you hear the keys jingle or jump from the couch and run straight to his arms. But your muffled voice isn’t shouting behind a door nor are you on the couch lounging as you spend your weekend.

An alarm goes off in his head, despite keeping a straight face there’s a silent worry itching in his hair. He isn’t used to the quiet. There should be music playing in the kitchen or at least the TV humming in the background. But it’s dead silent and it makes his stomach twist. Quickly, he drops his duffle bag on the floor of the entryway and walks down finding himself stood in front of your door. Tentatively, he twists the door knob of your shared bedroom. It’s dark, cold, and the sky was turning gray. More alarms ring and it’s enough to make him croak out your name hesitantly.

It's like a breath of fresh air when he hears the duvet shift. His eyes trail from the window and to your bed, a lot less worried and a lot more relaxed. You’re like a painting, the sheets were tangled between your body like milk on your thighs, back facing the window with your hair covering your face. He walked to the side of the bed and folded himself, reaching over as his hand swept your hair away. A smile etched its way on his face before a small chuckle escaped him, finding amusement in how you looked so peaceful in such a knotted position.

The clothes collect on the floor along with his shoes, the only thing on him, a shirt and his shorts. Your arms were bare and the strap of your top had slid down, it doesn’t leave much to his imagination.

Cut it out, she’s asleep. Swallowing thickly, he tries to pry your arm from the pillow.

Erling didn’t realize that holding your arm could do so much to him. Maybe he missed the feel of your skin too much, he thinks to himself while stroking your arm delicately, a long sigh escapes him with a flare of his nostrils. The touch lingers, your skin inviting him with its smooth texture. If your arm was so warm, he wondered what your entire body felt like.

Your begin to stir, making him drop your hand almost instantly, leading to a short moment of regret when he hears a small whine leave your mouth with brows furrowing in discomfort. You were always sensitive.

You shift from your side, your back now flat on the mattress chest out. He watched as it sank and rose in slow deep breaths suddenly remembering how tired he was again. He lifts the covers and grazes your leg, feeling goosebumps on the surface. Erling paused his movements to look under. You were only in your underwear.

He feels a strain on his shorts and curses to himself. The sheets under your body shift again, your camisole riding up in the process. Before he releases a groan, he catches himself. With his last ounce of pride, he fully sinks under the covers, letting it fall over himself. Erling hesitantly moves bit by bit till he’s brushing arms with you. He shifts in his place till he’s facing your back. A long sigh leaves him, this is good, he can deal with it like this. It’s good enough to make him know he’s near you yet enough distance for him to keep himself in control. It's a good distance, he tries to convince himself.

But it’s killing him.

Your back was in front of him. So close yet so far. He can imagine you calling him hysterical if he said that out loud.

It’s like a child resisting a jar of candy. You trust him enough that you don’t put the jar on the top shelf but silently he's pulling at his hair to keep his hands busy in on something, knowing if he gets a taste, he won’t stop at one. He needed to get his hands on you, or himself– for now. But the guilt was creeping up on him. Erling lifts his hips as he moved closer to you, an arm draping over your waist to pull you closer. He just needed to get closer, then he’ll be fine. It’s quiet in his head when he’s finally got you in his arms.

His plan however, could not have backfired even more. You wiggle in his hold, finding a position to melt into but Erling is frozen. Your ass was on his lap, pressing harder when you inch closer to the warmth that felt so good on your back. God you never were easy on him.

He feels his resolve slip away like sand in an hourglass– his time was up. A hand crawls underneath your top and pauses at your stomach, grazing the small rolls that folded, traveling from your ribs, and to where he wanted it the most. He’s grabbing your waist near the underside of your breasts till they’re both laying under his arm.

You’re shifting again, but this time he doesn’t care now pulling you closer to himself. He’s pressing his hard front to your ass, shamelessly rubbing himself on you like a dog. He feels your breathing alter, there’s no way you’re not awake.

“Erling–” You moan out, leaning into him, he feels you yield and it makes him lose his focus for a split second.

He grunts into your neck, “Yeah, baby?” He could feel your heart beat faster, it only makes him press harder, wanting to feel you. You don’t respond, but your hands pull his own from your ribs, using it to palm your own chest.

Suddenly you’re cold again. Before you protest, his hands are on your waist and the brute flips you to your back. He’s on top of you, both his hands pressing your wrists on the duvet, his head lowering while he leaves pecks on your neck and the curve of your chest, sucking on the exposed flesh and mouthing on your nipple over your tank top till there’s a wet patch. Your legs wrap around his waist, the distance between you still too scarce to satisfy you.

Your back arches, Erling’s arms snake under you in response. He removes his shirt and helps you remove yours, the cloth falling on the pile he left on the floor earlier. His hands return to you, kneading and fondling the softness on your breasts roughly, kissing and sucking on the skin till they liter with purple marks. He only pops his mouth off your chest to speak, and even then his hands are still playing with you. “I want you to come.”

Your eyes peel, open, lashes fluttering with a squint,“I-I don’t think you can do that-”

“Do you underestimate me?” Erling clicks his tongue with a shake of his head, butterflies burning in your stomach when you realize he’s going to try to make you come with just this. You stammer over your words, trying to protest but cut yourself off with a yelp. He bites you on your bud, startling you before he sucks on it, cooling it down with a blow of air.

He’s flicking his tongue then sucking, the other breast attended to with his right hand, twisting and rubbing till you writhe underneath him. There’s a cry you let out, and you don’t even see it coming. The moan that leaves your throat as your climax reaches you is nothing short of pornographic that even your boyfriend groans. The center of your underwear grows a darker color and it's reflex when you're rubbing yourself on Erling’s abdomen to find relief while he’s still lapping your chest. You’re left shuddering and sensitive to even the small pecs Erling leaves on you, jolting backwards with a shake after each contact.

He coos at you, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead and pulling you into his arms, leaving kisses all over your face till you’re left a giggling mess, both blissed out.

[whorekneecentral]

Hi bestie can I get phone sex with Erling along with prompt #64. Some details: the reader is away for work and Erling calls her late at night, he’s all whiny because he’s horny and he misses the reader. They rub one out together.

the last line made me giggle won't lie // prompt: “say my name- louder.” 

You were supposed to be home this weekend - Erling's first weekend off in a while and you got stuck on a stupid work trip. You tried so hard to get out of it and have a co-worker cover for you but the last 2 times you were supposed to go, you swapped so you'd be able to join your boyfriend at his games.

Now he was stuck at home all alone in your big bed while you were 4 hours and two cities away.

Erling could still smell your perfume on the sheets, the ideas swirling in his head; he is but a man and not one with a strong mind when it came to you.

Erling's cock twitches at the thought of you, now constrained by the tightness of his shorts. He hits your number, the phone on speaker next to him as he shoves his shorts down. He felt guilty for calling but he lets the line rings a few times and he figures you’re sleeping but you pick up at the last second. 

“Erling, baby?” Your voice laced with sleep as you called out to him. 

You can hear the slight whimper and breathing from his end. “Sorry,” he breathed, hand wrapped around his cock. “Did I wake you?” 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, shifting to lay on your back so you can set the phone on the pillow next to you. “Are you okay? I thought you’d be sleeping.”  You yawned.

 He mumbles, “I’m okay, sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine honey, what’s wrong?”

He sighs, "I miss you." The words earn him a smile he couldn't see. "I miss you too."

"I wish you were here."

"Why's that?" You asked, you could hear the movement on his end of the call. It was abundantly clear what was happening.

Erling is quiet, his hand moving up and down his cock slowly as he imagines what it would be like if you were there instead. You find yourself in the same situation; imagining what your boyfriend was doing on the other end of the line, your hand slipping down the front of your panties. 

“What did you call for, Erling? ” You ask him softly, your voice pulling him back to reality. “Mhm, missed your pretty face,” he says and you smile. 

Even when he’s horny, he’s still as charming as the day you met him. 

“I think you miss more than my face.” 

He plays dumb, “what do you mean?” And it’s almost like you can see the cocky smile on his face. 

“I think you miss me, honey. My touch, my hands, my lips, my taste.. my-” “Yeah,” he cuts you off with a ragged breath. “Everything about you.” 

“Mhm,” you smile to yourself, rubbing slow circles over your clit. “I was thinking about you,” you tell him, “missing the way your fingers stretch me out, make me feel so full.” 

“Really?” He asks a little too eagerly, mentally kicking himself for sounding so desperate. You hum in response.

“I wish I was there,” he admits, hand still moving but a bit faster this time. “Me too,” you hum, eyes closed as your other hand reaches down to rub on your clit.

Both you and Erling were on the edge of orgasm, the tightening knot in your stomach. “Erling, god, fuck, please.” You ramble out.

He finally finds the energy to speak. "Say my name- louder."

Head tossed back into the pillows, eyes fluttering shut as you feel yourself slip over the edge. Your fingers are moving but you barely register the physical feeling of it. Erling's name falls from your lips like a prayer, along with a string of please, yes and all the explicits under the sun. Erling follows a moment after you; his name coming from you, in that context, imagining how pretty you must look was enough for him. The warm liquid all over his hand and his lower stomach. 

"You there?" You whispered after a few moments and he answers with an uh huh. You can't help the giggle. "I love you," you tell him.

He smiles, "love you more."

[storyshark2005]

Fic Excerpt - Part IV of "Been and Gone" series. Lunch with Uncle Liam.

I should be writing but it's hard so I'm wasting time making a silly banner for a fic excerpt so ENJOY some boozy lunch with Uncle Liam and the girls:

They all laugh, and Molly waves for another round of drinks. Anais pulls out her phone and snaps a photo of him and Molly, and then comes around for a selfie with all three of them. 

“I’ll tag you both,” she promises, tapping away.

The sun breaks out from a bank of clouds overhead, and Liam wonders if Noel’s awake yet. If he’s got the curtains pulled shut like a dark cave, or if he was stirring fitfully in a mess of sheets, caught in a knife beam of sunlight.

“What’re they like?” Liam asks after a couple of drinks. 

Anais hums and sits back, smiling at her thoughts. “Well, let’s see. Donovan’s like...he’s a bit quieter. Internal. Really sweet, and thoughtful. And creative, he’s always been really good at drawing, and artsy stuff. He plays a lot of video games, adventury-y type ones.”

“Is he into music?”

“I mean...not really. Not like Dad. I think Dad wishes he’d sort of catch on to something besides his computer to be interested in. But he’s still young. He’ll figure it out.” 

“Bit of a daydreamer, then?” 

“Yeah,” she nods.

“That was our Noel.” Liam feels himself smile; he can still see Noel at seventeen, in his narrow little bed with his headphones plugged into the stereo, the window open to let out the thick, curling wheels of smoke. Eyes half-closed, drifting somewhere a thousand miles from Manchester, from Liam, from everyone.

“And Sonny’s the opposite. He’s like me-- super outgoing, energetic, always talking, chatting away. Dad always says he could make friends in a bucket.” She laughs. “He goes through these little obsessions-- for a while Dad was so excited, ‘cause he was really getting into the guitar. He had a few mates from school, and they all got together and did this talent show gig where they played ‘Bang a Gong’, by T-Rex. And Dad was like...freaking out, he was so excited! I think he thought they were doing Cigarettes and Alcohol for a few seconds.” 

Molly grins, shakes her head. “That’s so sweet.” 

Anais rolls her eyes. “But now it’s just football, football, football. Actually it’s really good, because he’s got football camp all summer to keep him distracted. I sort of wish Donovan would find something to keep his mind off of things. 

“But anyway, yeah. Sonny just wants to be Erling Haaland when he grows up.” 

Liam had stayed at home with Paul and the boys to watch the championship, not up to the stress of hobbling around the Etihad, and with him and Noel in the same place, it would have been a madhouse. But he’d seen the pictures of Noel holding Sonny over his shoulders, his tiny, joyous little face. 

He remembers a couple of weeks after he was born. Almost a year after the band broke up, Liam had thought things couldn’t get worse with him and Noel; and he hadn’t minded so much, because he was still so angry. But he remembers picking up a photo from his mother’s coffee table: Noel in the hospital holding a little bundle of blue, Donovan standing at his knee tugging on Noel’s trousers. A strange second where he’d almost forgotten everything that had happened, and nearly asked out loud, why didn’t he call me, he forgot to call because Noel had been the first person Liam had called after Lennon, after Gene. 

“D’you think they’ll like me?” 

It sort of slips out. He’s still not all there, still thinking about the blue bundle in Noel’s arms, about the end of the band; Liza in New York, and Nicole next to him on the sofa asking him, where are you? It’s like I don't even know you anymore. Life all splintered up into pieces, and none that really fit together.

Anais puts her fork down, mouth pulling fondly to one side, knowingly, like she had a secret. “Uncle Liam. They’re going to love you.”

He doesn’t know if he believes her, but it’s too dear a thought, too much to wish for and too far away. He’s got to figure Noel out first, and Noel’s got to figure Sara out, and somehow, somehow, they’ve all got to make it through in one piece.

[emwritesfootball]

Animalistic | Erling Haaland

Could you perhaps write one that includes what we talked about yesterday 😳 when you've got time ofc Including like rough doggy, leaving marks, titty obsession, being too big to ride, animalistic.

Word Count: 607

Warnings: all of the above from the request xx

A/N: For @moonrver

- - -

You didn’t particularly like Erling as a person, but there was just something about him that always had you coming back for more when it came to sex. His dislike for you was just as palpable, especially evident in the way he fucked you time and time again.

What had started out as an unemotional one night stand for both of you quickly turned into an unspoken mutual understanding that resulted in more-than-one-night stress relief. After that first night, you’d woken up in your own bed covered in bruises that reminded you just how easily Erling had thrown you around.

You hadn’t spent the night and you didn’t mind. To you, it was better to wake up in your own bed without someone hogging all the covers - or worse, waking up in someone else’s bed and being the one taking the sheets - especially since you’d just slept with Erling Haaland of all people. Even still, you couldn’t help smiling to yourself as you remembered how rough he’d been with you. He didn’t treat you like some fragile thing; he used you like you used him and for once that felt good.

“Be gentle?” You joked the next time the two of you hooked up, but you knew that even if he promised, he wouldn’t be able to be gentle for that much longer, especially when he got worked up as the kisses heated up.

“Did I do that?” Erling asked when he shed your shirt to reveal the bruises he’d left on your hips and the bite marks on your tits. He looked shocked and upset but when you nodded, his demeanor changed and he smirked, letting out a possessive growl before pinning you against the wall and adding to the marks from the previous night.

It didn’t take you long to find out that the face he made me when he came would make you laugh or kill your impending orgasm altogether, which led to you either closing your eyes while he was on top of you or riding him Reverse Cowgirl. You usually tried to make sure you got to cum first, though, since he was a little too big to ride and you only did that when you congratulated him on a win. It always made him smug, slapping your ass and praising you with each downward stroke whenever you rode him. Filth like Look at you taking as much of my cock as you can - good girl or Am I hurting you with my massive cock never failed to leave his mouth, spurring you on to have you riding him faster.

For Erling, his favourite position to have you in was doggy. He was able to get as close to balls-deep inside you as possible while also getting to have his way and manhandle you with each thrust. It was animalistic, the way he fucked you when he had you like that, always leaving you with more bruises and marks than any other position. He also loved your tits, putting his mouth on them whenever he could, loving how you responded when he sucked on your nipples.

“Fuck, you look hot,” Erling murmured, his gaze scanning you up and down when he answered the door for your latest hookup. He reached out, pulling you into him and pinning you against the door, putting your mouth on his in a rough kiss that let you know how the rest of the night was going to go. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist as you let him carry you to the bedroom to leave more possessive marks on your body.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Shadowstruck: Prologue

I'll probably regret posting this, because it's rough, a bit cliche and melodramatic, and connected to a story that I have no real way of finishing, but I'm feeling nostalgic both for the story and for a time when I could actually write things that I didn't totally hate, so to that end, I'll post some of it. Feel free to comment if you think I could make something out of it or if you think I was wise to abandon it.

Here's the prologue of Shadowstruck, focused on a new father faced with a tragic choice.

Prologue

Lord Nicholas Erling paced from end to end of the darkened hallway, still wearing the stiff suit from the evening’s house party. The shadows of the hall were broken only by the silvery winter moonlight and the soft blue glow of his own heartlight. The silence was broken by the pained birthing cries of his wife from within their bedchamber at the hall’s far end. Each sound broke his heart, because he could do nothing. Only wait, and hope, and pray.

After hours of pacing, his heartlight had faded to a barely perceptible glow. He slumped against the closed bedroom door. As his ear touched the carved oak, he heard a new cry—higher, thinner, smaller. The first cries of a new life brought from darkness into light.

He jumped to his feet, all weariness banished. He kept his ear to the door, his heart soaring as he listened to the livelier sort of bustle of the midwife and slaves cleaning up after the birth of a healthy baby.

After a few minutes, the door opened, and the midwife poked her head out, her smile almost as bright as her golden heartlight. “Both mother and baby are healthy as can be, my lord. Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

From head to foot, his heartlight flared, bathing the hall in a blue the color of a summer sky. He had a daughter, the first born of his beloved wife, an heir to his ancient family title and lands. “May I see them?”

The midwife nodded, with solemn joy.

Nicholas smoothed the wrinkles from his battered evening suit, straightened his cravat, and called upon his heartlight to smooth the tangles from his hair and erase the dark circles and drooping lines from his face. When he was presentable, he followed the midwife into the bedchamber.

The room still buzzed with the quiet activity of several house slaves, but Nicholas focused on a still figure at the far end of the wood-paneled room. His wife lay exactly in the center of their four-poster bed, wrapped in a clean white nightgown and surrounded by mounds of clean white bedding. Eleanora’s hair was wet, and her face was weary, but her orange heartlight had never been brighter. Gazing upon her was like looking at a new star.

Within her arms, she held the swaddled form of a sleeping baby girl. Wisps of dark baby hair fluttered with each of Eleanora’s breaths. Nicholas gazed in wonder at his daughter’s tiny button nose, her ten perfect fingers, her long, dark eyelashes.

When he sat on the bed, his daughter’s half-closed lids opened. Two eyes—so small, so bright—met Nicholas’ gaze with a look of perfect trusting innocence, and Nicholas realized he’d never truly understood love until this moment.

“Eleanora,” he breathed. “She’s perfect.”

Eleanora nodded, tears trickling down her cheeks. “Her name is Amarinda.”

Though they’d planned to name her after Eleanora’s mother, Nicholas was not surprised by the new choice. Such a child could never wear Ingrid’s name. Ingrid was angular and gray. This child was soft and warm, precious and perfect.

Eleanora smiled softly. “Would you like to hold her?”

Nicholas was too overcome with emotion to speak, but his brightening heartlight answered for him. While the midwife used a spark of her heartlight to brighten the lamps, Nicholas bent over the bed and lifted the baby with outstretched arms.

Baby Amarinda passed over the blank white expanse of sheets, separated from the first time from her mother’s heartlight.

The bright lamps revealed a horrible truth. The infant cast a shadow on the bed.

Nicholas’ first instinct was to hide the shameful sight. He clutched the infant to his chest, safe within the protective blue glow of his own heartlight.

The midwife, too busy with the lamps, hadn’t noticed. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed it since the birth. Perhaps there’d been no time to notice in the bustle of birthing and cleaning.

Or maybe, he thought with a wash of relief, his eyes had deceived him. It must have been a trick of the light, a shadow falling from a lamp or a pitcher or some other soulless object.

He wanted to believe it. But he had to know for sure.

“You,” he called to the midwife, a quiver in his voice weakening the command. “Bring a lamp.”

The midwife obeyed, moving so quickly that she nearly toppled the bedside table.

Nicholas brought infant, midwife and lamp toward a blank wooden wall on the right side of the room. He held his daughter at arm’s length in front of the wall while the midwife lifted the lamp.

On the wood-paneled wall, within a circle of golden lamplight, sat the perfect silhouette of a blanket-swaddled infant.

The midwife shrieked. Eleanora burst into tears. Nicholas stayed statue-still, staring at the wall, unable to believe his own eyes. No matter how long he looked, the truth didn’t change.

The infant had no heartlight.

His daughter had no soul.

His arms shook, and the infant cried. Nicholas clutched it to his chest and rushed to his wife’s bedside. He sat beside her and embraced her with his free arm.

“It’s alright,” he soothed, as he forced the quiver out of his own voice. “It’s not your fault. Please don’t cry. It’s not your fault. Lots of infants are born without souls.”

Eleanora sobbed into his shoulder, the minutes stretching into endless, heartbreaking hours as Nicholas struggled to hide his own distress. He’d never had such high hopes shattered so quickly and completely. His perfect daughter, meant to be heir to the Sunwild Estate, was nothing but an empty shell. It could, theoretically, grow into something that looked and moved and talked like a human, but without a soul, it would never be anything more than an animal.

After an anguished eternity, Eleanora released him and fell upon her pillows, drained by her sorrow. Her orange heartlight had faded to the color of dried blood. She gazed at the squirming bundle in Nicholas’ arms with blank disbelief. “Nicholas,” she rasped. “What do we do with it?”

He looked at the infant, who squirmed and sighed as if it wavered between screaming and sleeping. Love and hatred battled in Nicholas’ breast. It felt like this soulless creature had destroyed the perfect child he had loved so fiercely, and yet—this soulless creature was the infant he’d loved. He warred against that love long enough to say, “We should kill it.”

Eleanora paled, and her heartlight faded further. “Oh.”

The words didn’t make him a monster. He was only pointing out the most logical solution. Plenty of families did the same. He couldn’t burden his family with the shame, couldn’t risk the rumors that his line had given birth to a shade. Letting it live would be irresponsible.

He spoke to his wife, trying to convince himself as he tried to convince her. “Without heartlight, it’s not a person. It can’t control its environment. It would be helpless against heat, cold, weather—humans. Such a life is no life at all.”

“But Nicholas,” she said, lifting herself with one trembling arm and gazing at the child that she’d spent hours struggling to bring into the world. “We can’t.”

He rested a hand on the infant’s chest. “It’s like drowning a kitten. It’s kinder in the end.”

The infant stirred. Nicholas looked at the soft face and told himself it belonged to an animal, not a person.

One tiny hand waved, then wrapped itself around Nicholas’ forefinger.

His stony heart shattered. This infant, whatever it was, wanted to live. He didn’t have the strength to deny its only request.

A cough sounded from a shaded corner. Nicholas looked up and saw a dark-haired house slave arranging a stack of clean linens. Not a spark of heartlight separated her from the nighttime shadows.

The Erling family had owned Liv since before Nicholas had been born. Nicholas had always assumed that she’d come from a long breeding line of shades, but for the first time, he wondered if her birth had sparked a scene like this. Perhaps her parents had been human, and they too had struggled with the choice to kill her kindly or sentence her to a long, harsh life.

Yet Liv had lived, and Liv had served well. She was gentle, docile, and kind with the younglings among the shade slaves. She couldn’t be a mother in the way that a human could, but animals could be kind to their own young. Or to young of their own kind.

“Liv,” Nicholas said. “Come here.”

Liv turned around and blinked at him, startled and uncertain.

“Come here, Liv,” Nicholas said, and this time, he put his will behind the command to help her along. Sparks of his blue heartlight appeared behind Liv’s legs, and hurried her toward the bed.

When she stood next to Nicholas, the heartlight glimmers faded, and she gazed down at the bed. “You have need of me, my lord?”

“Take this child to the slave quarters.”

“Amarinda, my lord?”

The name pierced his heart like an arrow. That was a name for humans, for the daughter meant to continue his family line, not for the soulless creature that had crushed all his hopes. “You may choose a new name for it.”

“Shall I take her now, my lord?”

He placed the infant in the slave’s arms. Liv brought the infant to her chest, and it nestled against the crook of her arm.

Nicholas fought off a feeling of jealousy. That creature was not his daughter. It was better this way. It would be with its own kind.

He said, voice gruff. “Let no one see you, and tell no one where she came from. Your life is worth less than nothing if anyone connects her to my family name.”

She nodded, and her eyes sparked with something that, within a human, would have looked like human emotion—a combination of fear and anger. “I understand, my lord.”

Nicholas said, “I’m sure there’s one among you who can nurse it. But..I would appreciate, Liv…if you would watch over her.”

That harsh look softened. “Gladly, my lord.”

Nicholas watched Liv leave the room with her precious bundle. He watched the midwife finish tidying the room and return to her own home under a strict vow of secrecy. He watched his wife cry herself into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Then, and only then, Nicholas put his hands over his face and wept.

[horny-haaland-hoes]

Something soft.. because you all are ovulating or on your period (same) and I thought I come up with the harder stuff when we are all horny again …

Just thoughts…

Sander crawled to bed and felt like someone tried to pull him under. Like hands were digging into his shoulder, wanted him to pull under a surface he couldn't see. He didn't feel sick, he felt just different. Like something was inside his body that clearly shouldn't be there. He hated it. And he hated that faith always picked him. He was looking forward to this international break since the last one and then his Covid test came back and was positive. No rational thought left in his mind could've understood. He was fully vaccinated and didn't waste a thought on actually getting infected. But there it was and it was painful. Not Covid, no. He had literally no symptoms but his insides were painful. Something inside him hurt. Maybe that's were your soul or heart or whatever is located. The centre of your feelings. That part of a human body that can break and leave you in total darkness and misery.

He watched the Boys play their game against the Netherlands and it was brilliant to see them play so well. They really did their homework some of them played oustanding. Like their life depended on this performance and to be honest, for some it did. Not for him this time. He would've played their in the Midfield Link Up with Ødda. He would've been at home.

But he isn’t. He is still in England, away from home. Alone and heartbroken because nothing really goes as planned in Sheffield and he hoped so much people could be convinced by him, when he would've shown a solid performance for his Country.

Not his year. Not at all.

He had a horrible headache. The only thing this Covid stuff brought. And no appetite. Slepless and sweaty nights. God knew what that vaccination and this Delta variant these brits breed will do to his body.

The sheets in his back feel warm and heavy and the moment he feels them pressing up against him is the moment he regrets laying down. He is restless and emotional today and even angry. 3 hours since that game finished and he texted them. Erl, Mo, Jens and Ødda. No one answered..

He wasn't even bothered anymore. They might've figured out he was useless anyway. They could easily play without him. It's exactly what everyone seems to think at Sheffield.

He loved this sport. It was his life but on days like today, he hated it the same way.

He could feel a lump crawling into his throat and he felt his stomach drop.

Maybe Covid symptoms made you feel all at once? Maybe he was just overreacting? Maybe he needed a break from all of this? He could feel his eyes burn and he squeezed them shut, breathing in and out, feeling his lungs work how they should and how this lump in his throat could not be swallowed down

He could hear it ring in the back of his mind.. his phone which he shoved under the pillow in all his frustration. He fumbled around until he could reach it and saw on the Display that Ødda wanted to FaceTime with him. He could see how his hand was shaking when his thumb was ghosting over the green button and he pushed it without hesitation. He needed to see some face that actually wasn't struck by misery

Ødda was smiling his brightest smile

That typical Ødda smile that brought up his dimples and made him look like a college boy.

That made the earth look like the best place you truly could live on and made galaxies look pale and boring compared to. It made Sander realise that they were still this weird Soul Mates. That could feel each others moods and light up their lives. So many years have passed and they were still like this. Connected by magic. Weird thought, but a true one

Sander wanted to smile back, wanted to wave and tell Ødda how proud he was of them all. He wanted to fake his smile as long as it had to be this way. Did not want to ruin the evening of his best friend. But the moment Ødda started to talk spanish to him and called him Sandros again and told him how much he missed him today, Sander couldn't swallow the lump down anymore.

Life was fucked. Everything was fucked and he was so tired and felt so weird and he was so homesick like he never was before. Every cell in his body was aching. His whole body was a painful ball literally on fire. He could feel the tears prickle in his eyes and how his lashes turned wet. He couldn't let Ødda see. So he sat up and buried his face in his left hand instead.

Embarrassed by his reaction. Absolutely gutted by himself and the whole world..

Ødda started asking questions if he would be ok and what was wrong. Called him Amigo and Cariño mío.. called him all the things he loved to hear. But Sander knew if he would open his mouth he would sob. He hated it ..

But when Ødda fell silent he looked up.. looked up in this worried face. That lost his smile and the dimples and that had nothing to do with shining galaxies anymore. And Sander opened his mouth in an attempt to laugh, what turned out to end in something in between.

But when Ødda started to laugh as well, something changed. Like this wasn't so bad afterall.

How he said they would look pathetic sitting miles apart, dressed in underwear in the middle of the night almost crying with each other. And Sander felt the lump loosening. He felt it shrink and he could finally breath again. He whipped over his face and tossed through his long hair..

‚Jeg savner deg‘ he missed him so bad.. more than playing Football..

‚Jeg vet Sandros. Savner deg også‘.. of course did he miss him too..

‚Vi må møtes når dette er over.‘ they had to meet, 10 more days and when he would be negative seeing Ødda would be the first thing to do..

Ødda laughed..

‚Å, du savner meg virkelig. Vi gjør. Det første vi gjør..‘ of course did he really miss him..

But did that matter? No..

Sander could smile again and the galaxies in Øddas face came back, the dimples and the world turned into that beautiful place again. The finest to live at..

‚Jeg er utrolig glad i deg Ødda‘ .. he was.. he loved him like a brother..

‚Ja, glad i deg også. Veldig glad‘ …

You can be homesick for places, but nothing is more worse than being homesick for people too.

Sander was just glad that the person he turned homesick for, would come back to England in less than 10 days and they could see each other again, fetch lunch or just be idiots around each other

Life wasn't that bad after all. Not when you had someone like Ødda in it. Someone that made galaxies look pale and boring compared to his smile..

Sander didn't love anything more than that.. not even Football

enjoy y’all xx

[goreprofonde]

What are your thoughts on the The Tiger's Bride by Angela Carter ?

Ok girl, here we go!

The Tiger's Bride is a retelling of the beauty and the beast, but it is not simply that, it is also about reclaiming female agency, voice, gaze and sexuality.

The father loses his daughter at cards, what does it mean? It means that The Daughter is currency -especially at this period where families were trying to marry their daughters to the wealthiest men around- embodied, she is the estate of her father, she must make him proud. The Daughter carries with her a position. As Luce Irigaray states in one of her text, there is three positions for women: the Mother = use value/domestic, the Virgin = exchange value/sexual and the Prostitue who has both. Here the heroine has exchange value due to her virginity. She is two things simultaneously, she is multitask, she is service/exchange value and money itself. The Beast plays and wins the product, the heroine now belongs to him. In the transaction, the father loses his money, but where is the money? The money is the Daughter, she has market value, she can be exchanged, lost at gambling, looted... she herself is aware of it: "For now my own skin was my sole capital in the world and today I’d make my first investment".

This chapter is a deviation of the beauty and the beast and so as we know, the beauty and the beast was inspired by the tale of Cupid and Psyche. Then we have to look for parallels. I have pinned down three. First, the heroine, as Psyche is served by disembodied voices: the "robotic" maid and the valet which I will accept does have a body but represents more an idea than his body, as does Jiminy Cricket for example. Second, Apuleius says: "by the unhappiest of chances the lamp spilt a drop of boiling oil on to his shoulder" and Carter says: "The candles dropped hot, acrid gouts of wax on my bare shoulders" the drop of oil becomes wax, it is sticky, filthy, like semen, it foreshadows the heroine's sexual climax and by dropping on her shoulder, it tells you she is/will be Psyche and Eros, she is/will be the Mind and Love. Last one (I think), Eros and Psyche make love in the dark because Eros made one rule, she can't know what he looks like. In the Tiger's Bride, the heroine doesn't want to know what the Beast looks like, she says: "You may put me in a windowless room, sir, and I promise you I will pull my skirt up to my waist, ready for you. But there must be a sheet over my face, to hide it; though the sheet must be laid over me so lightly that it will not choke me. So I shall be covered completely from the waist upwards, and no lights."

Do you remember the line "The girl burst out laughing; she knew she was nobody’s meat" in The Company of Wolves? The Tiger's Bride echoes this line: "I could scarcely believe my ears. I let out a raucous guffaw; no young lady laughs like that! my old nurse used to remonstrate. But I did. And do." both heroines laugh, why? Because laughs are the voices of women, the laughs of the Lambs, the laughs of the Medusa. By laughing I claim by ability to be something else than the neurotic; screaming woman men have invented. Kin to Carter, sexuality. Sexuality is represented by the Beast's fur, it is also virility. He tries to hide his smell, as all men do, but what smell? The smell of the Beast, the same "perfume of spiced leather" the heroine was complaining about in The Bloody Chamber. At the end of the tale, the heroine is flayed by the Beast and as the Gothic heroine, she does not die but is reborn, as a Beast herself, full of fur, accepting finally her sexuality. By this transformation, the heroine reaches the third position of women theorised by Luce Irigaray: The Prostitute, use and exchange value.  

There are plenty other things to unfold about lines like: "the still mask that concealed all the features of The Beast but for the yellow eyes that strayed, now and then, from his unfurled hand towards myself." which echoes the line from The Company of Wolves "You can tell them by their eyes, eyes of a beast of prey, nocturnal, devastating eyes".

"And I could not ask her why they called the master of the place, ‘La Bestia’ – was it to do with that heraldic signature? – because her tongue was so thickened by the phlegmy, bronchitic speech of the region I scarcely managed to make out a thing she said" which echoes the Gothic pattern of the heroine who is never offered any help.

"Oh, yes, a beautiful face; but one with too much formal symmetry of feature to be entirely human: one profile of his mask is the mirror image of the other, too perfect, uncanny" watch the use of "symmetry" here and in Williams Blake's poem "The Tyger":

“Tyger Tyger, burning bright, / In the forests of the night; / What immortal hand or eye, / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”

Symmetry is beauty and beauty has never been cute, acute beauty is terror, a beautiful face is a scary thing, for us and for the beholder.

There are also elements echoing Helen Cixous's text, "The Love of the Wolf" but be careful, Carter published her text in 1979 and Cixous published hers in 1998:    

"ah! you think you’ve come to the blessed plot where the lion lies down with the lamb" + "The tiger will never lie down with the lamb; he acknowledges no pact that is not reciprocal. The lamb must learn to run with the tigers." The heroine must become as feral as the Beast and thus they can love each other.

As I told you earlier, I’m going to link some references that could help you:

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2012/10/17/chamber-of-secrets-the-sorcery-of-angela-carter/    ///  https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p04t2j4y  ///   https://amchoreo.files.wordpress.com/2010/12/hc3a9lc3a8ne-cixous-stigmata-escaping-texts.pdf  /// https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/355547.Flesh_and_the_Mirror

About the second question you asked in pm, I don’t really know, I think you can read it from different points of view, first one, it’s the Erl-King talking and so there is a notion of incest, perversion of the mother role? The mother doesn’t feed you, she kills you. I think that is the point of view that many take into account but when I read it, I felt like it was the voice of the heroine, I mean it is possible, the violin sings her song, her mother murdered her, how? by pushing her into the arms of the Erl? by handing down her injuries to her daughter? By not warning her about how the monster can be so beguiling? I don’t know.

[mrneighbourlove]

Cruel Red Sea: Ch 9. Darkest Couple Looms Over

Outside, Lex ran out to cry on her own. Revy sat down, gloomy by the fire. She never had a fight like that before in her life.

As Seer and Bakura were returning inside to warm themselves, the blind Direnor nearly had the breath knocked out of him when Lex ran straight into him, hugging him tightly. He heard her crying and instantly, he was on his knees. Feeling of her face, he tried to shush her.

"Alexandria, my beautiful girl, what's wrong?" Seer asked, his white eyes wide. "What happened?"

"Liz was mean! She had a fight with Revy! And she told me that I would grow up to be nothing special. That we will never be able to transform like you! I-I just want to a Princess!" Lex sobbed deeply into Seer. Bakura was a little envious, but put his daughter first, patting her head.

"Ssssh. Let it all out."

"Hey, hey, that's not true at all." Seer was still weak from healing, but still could pick up his little girl. With her arms around his shoulder, he stood again and held her tight. "Listen, sweetheart. You may not be a Direnor like me, but you're special in your own way. I don't know anyone who would make a more beautiful princess than my darling Lex." He told her softly. "One day, you're going to travel and see the world, and the world is going to be so jealous of how stunning you are. Not only are you beautiful, but you're talented and so smart. Then, some day, you're going to be a grown woman and marry a special man. You'll have a family of your own." He booped noses with her, his forehead against hers. "And I'll be a very proud grandpa."

"She called mom the b-word and other daddy lowly."

Bakura made a face of confusion. Had he ever been called lowly by a child before? "Where is Liz now?"

"With Halvar I think... she want's Revy to leave with her perfect family back to Hyrule."

"Well um..." Seer was not really sure how to address this issue, but tried his best. "She's allowed to have her own opinion. True, your mother hasn't really done us any favors, but I don't think Bakura deserves that." He fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and dried her face of tears. "As far as Reveka goes, I think that your sister owes her, as well as yourself, an apology." He then offered. "You want Bakura to take you home while I talk to your sister? He'll be staying with us for a little while until he gets his own place."

"I can do that Bakura. Reveka is sitting alone. You should let her parents know what happened. I'll make sure Lex gets into bed and talk to her more about her feelings."

"Is that okay, Lex?" Seer asked his daughter. "I'll be home as soon as I get your sister."

Lex nodded. "That's ok Daddy... thank you for the horsy again. Have a goodnight."

"Tomorrow, you'll go riding and feel better, yes?" Seer handed Lex over to Bakura, making sure the man could support her weight before he let go. "You'll learn how to brush Whiteout, put on a saddle, a bridle, clean his hooves, feed him... so much to do. But for now, you comb your hair, brush your teeth, put on your pajamas, and go to bed. I'll give you a kiss when I get home."

"Ok. See you later Daddy."

Bakura gave huff as he carried Lex away. He was glad she was just under the age of starting her growth spurt. The Shiekah rushed through the snowy night back to the cabin.

Before Seer tried to find Liz, he found Rat at the table with everyone else. Rat was heartily telling the tale of how Captain Corsaire wrestled in the clutches of a kraken. The King and Queen of Uskar loved the story, especially with the quartermaster's dramatic flare. He was just at the part where Corsaire was hacking off his own arm to survive when Seer approached him.

"Rat? I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Aye? Borgie, you take over for me?" Rat got up from his chair and kissed her cheek.

"Do I have to?"

"You tell it just as good as I do."

"Very well, if you insist."

While Borghild was talking to Torbjorn and Brigritta, Seer told Rat what happened. The two friends both agreed that this could be resolved tomorrow. It was late and the girls needed their rest. So while Seer went to find Liz, Rat found his daughter by the fire.

"Reveka, love?" Rat sat next to her. "Seer told me what a-happened."

"He did?" Revy looked from the fire to briefly gaze at him, than back at the fire. "I think Liz is angry how my life has unravelled compared to hers. I don't know what to do to help her."

"Love, Liz isn't angry at you. She's angry at her situation and looking for someone to a-blame." Rat pulled his daughter a little closer. "None of this is your fault. You wouldn't a-blame her if you only had me, would you? Heh... for a while, it was that way."

"No... but I'm not the one with a villain for a mom and morally questionable birthdad. I got to grow up with my biological dad. You're awesome! And Borghild is an even greater mom! And than it turns out Scarlet is really cool too! I understand her anger, but it still makes me sad..."

"Ah, me lassie, sometimes there are some things that even we can't control, we can only try to be there for those who love us and care about us." Rat told Reveka with a heavy sigh. "Don't ever think this is your fault, love. Just try to understand where Liz is coming from, listen to each other, and this will get better, I promise."

"I hope she wants to be my friend still. I've never been in a fight before..."

"I'm sure she does, Reveka. I think right now, Liz is just frustrated and taking the blame out on you. It happens, even happened with me and Cap'n Corsaire."

"You two got into emotional fights? About what?"

"When Cap'n Corsaire and Princess Orana first met, he didn't know she was a princess. She didn't a-tell him." Rat thought back to all those years ago. "We called her Missy Orana and she sailed the seas with us for a while. You know the story." He cleared his throat. "When she left to return home, Cap'n Corsaire was convinced it was over. He and I argued about it, me a-saying he'd never been happier. I finally convinced him that if he didn't go after her, he was a-stupid. That if you really love someone, you don't want to let them go. Cap'n came to his senses after we argued, and we went to get her."

"That's a beautiful story, but how does that apply to me and Liz?"

"Cap'n didn't want to lose Orana and I helped him see that he was being a-stupid." Rat then looked at his daughter and asked. "Do you want to lose Liz? Or Lex? If not, then sometimes you have to help them see they're being a-stupid."

Revy internalized her thoughts. Heroes sometimes had to do their jobs, even when they weren't wanted. "You're right. I'll go tell her right now!"

"Wait, wait, wait, don't raise your sails just yet, love." Rat caught her by the belt before she could run off. "Seer's a-talking to Liz right now. Let's wait until morning, aye? Be thinking about what you wanna say."

"B-but what if she needs me?"

"Right now, she has her daddy." Rat assured Reveka. "She'll be okay, sweetie."

Revy gave a sigh, but hugged her dad. "Can you have mom tuck me into bed? I'm really tired."

"Aye, me love." Rat picked up Reveka. "I'll carry you, me love. We'll get your Ma and Scarlet, then we'll go home. It's late, and you and Boof need your sleep." He whistled for Boof, who was currently chewing on a bone given to him by the guards. "Boof! Come on, boy." The dog perked up, and dashed over to Rat with the bone in his mouth. "Aye, dat is a good boy. Time to go home."

When Seer finally found his way to the Prince's room, he'd get no reply from Liz. She had fallen asleep next to Halvar in the middle of reading a story about pirates on a treasure island.

"Oh! Um... Mister Erling, sir." Halvar did not dare move, not wanting to wake up Liz, so he whispered to Seer. "She fell asleep."

"It's all right, my prince." Seer carefully walked over to the bed, using his walking stick to make sure he did not trip. "Liz, sweetheart... come on. It's time to go home." He managed to pick her up with one arm, her head resting against shoulder. "Thank for being a good friend to her."

"It's no problem, I like Liz. I mean, she's my friend so of course I like her, she's really sweet and um... yeah."

"Heh, I understand, my prince. Good night."

Luckily for the Prince, Liz didn't catch his stumbled confession as she stirred awake. "D-Dad?"

"I'm here, sweetheart." Seer slowly made his way out of the room. He was not as fast as he used to be with this heart condition now, but he'd be damned if he let it keep him from holding his girl. "We're going home now."

"We are?.... ok." Liz went back to resting against him.

"Yes, we're going home." Seer sighed as Liz dozed in his hold. "Everything will be better tomorrow."

~

For Captain Adda, anything was but better at the moment. It took a two weeks to travel back to the Great Bay. First fourteen hours was her simply conducting to warmer and shallower waters so her crew could repair the ship, sending a message out, following the final hours sailing around in erratic patterns so she couldn't be tracked. The island paradise would have to wait. Arriving at her destination, Adda docked at the iron fortress. It was a massive island, heavily fortified with steel walk ways that lead deeper in. Mines in the water could be activated to raise up at any time, and the pirates had made the fish that swam through accustomed to human flesh.

Adda used the fortress as he beacon for those who pledged allegiance to her to rendezvous and coordinated plans for her pleasure and business. Making her way to a throne she stole from Danjur, Adda sat down on, deep in thought.

"Seer... that damned bastard. He just had to make things difficult. He couldn't see things from my prospective. He can't see anyone's prospective. I suppose that's a fault of the blind."

"Captain Adda?" One of her crew mates gestured to a messenger. "There is news from the kingdoms" She handed the captain a sheet of paper. It had Captain Adda's face on it, yet in place of the wanted dead or alive, there was a reward of high value that read "Shoot on sight". "It seems you're quite famous now, captain. The High King and Queen of Uskar has put a bounty on your head." She then pointed to the various posters of Adda's face. "Not to mention, Hyrule, Labrynna, and Danjur have all agreed with Uskar. They're all offering rewards too."

"Captain Adda, I'm sorry to disturb you, but you're going to be late for your meeting with the other pirate captains." Another crew member informed her. "There are a number of issues to the various captains wish to discuss."

Once everyone was in the appropriate meeting room, there were pirate captains who looked uneasy. Many were worried about their ships and their crew. Treasure could always be easily gained later, but with this new order from several kingdoms, anyone associated with Adda was in danger. While the captain was sure she controlled the seas, she could not be in several places at once, not to mention, take on a whole armada. The Wind Waker was powerful, but the news of these Lorleidians... could the Wind Waker be combated? There were too many unknown answers.

"Captain Adda," One captain took this chance to address her. "I come with unfortunate news. We of the Hondui Band withdraw our support. I cannot risk the lives of my men and women due to your recklessness."

"We of the Kirkeecane Tribe withdraw our support as well." Another captain felt anxious. "There are death sentences out for anyone who is under your command. There is no way we can defeat an armada as massive as Danjur's. Not to mention, Hyrule has these new foreigners there who supposedly can control elements."

"We respected you on the sea, but you decided to attack land. We cannot follow you there." Yet another captain spoke. "You went too far."

Adda took her seat at the head of the table. Listening to the concerns of her underlings, she tapped her arm rest in agitation. "I think you all need to think rationally. Tell me, how do you see the potential threat of a continent away affecting you. How do you think I went too far? We need to be clear here gentlemen."

"If all the countries are sending out warrants for your death, we will not have anywhere to go for supplies."

"Supplies? Ha! We won't have anywhere to go at all! Nowhere to go upon land!"

"You can't protect all of us, you can't be everywhere at once with the Wind Waker."

"And not all of us have fancy ships like you do."

"Besides, we saw what those Direnors could do. Those were only a few, imagine what all of them could do in the water!"

"Not only that, these Lorleidians could nullify the effect of the Wind Waker if their magic really is elemental like the rumors say."

"You went too far and killed innocents! There were children in the bay that were swept away like flies!"

"Another thing! The captain who killed the kraken, he's part Hyrule's navy now! If he took out a kraken, he can take out any one of us."

Adda turned to her messenger. "What of the Kikai Empire?"

"Openly, they are allied with Hyrule. But they don't dare cut off trade with us. They still use pirates to fuel their economy in secret as they repair. We've just received some experimental gunpowder actually."

"Good." Turning her attention the men, they held two strikes. "The Wind Waker is legendary. No fleet dares approach me. It can tear dragons from the sky, and ships or beasts from the sea. As for the rest of you, it's one bloody continent we lost for now. And a Kraken that Corsaire was lucky enough to put a powder keg in its mouth. Termina is still a whole country we can smuggle about our work. The Great Sea holds plenty of islands to hide about. And if it makes you milkdrinkers more at ease, I'll consider the bio-weapons we were offered to help patrol the waters around our ships. I'll ask again. Raise your hand if you want out."

"Whether they trade now or not, the Kikai Empire would be a fool to piss off Hyrule after finally establishing a truce."

"Gunpowder won't stop a whole nation."

"Legendary or not, it's magic won't last forever and when they come for you, and they will, I refuse to let my crew be in harm's way of a witch queen and her dragons."

"And Danjur's armada."

"If he can take down a kraken, he can take you down. The kraken was arrogant in its size and might and you are becoming thusly more so."

"Not to mention, it's foolhardy to say a mortal owns the sea; the sea belongs to the goddess and I'm not going to be damned for saying it belongs to you."

The last one reminded her of Rat. That bastard said the same thing. Just then, a shadow flew over the clearing mid her thoughts. Perfect timing.

Getting up, Adda walked across the table, and flicked something forward that had been hanging behind her. This was a special beauty. Modifying a rifles design she created a weapon that used shells to create a powerful spread of gunfire in close quarters. Pulling the trigger, she ruthlessly blew the head off the last man. She than looked up and nodded to the man who called her arrogant. He was pulled up by a clawed tail, right into the jaws of a terrifying dragon. This beast was known on the seas as Onslaught, an intelligent creature that had only merely thought upon partnering with Adda in the past. Somehow she got him to consider her offer now. As her own girls and the other men stared in horror, Adda pumped her weapon, a shell dislodging as the smoke cleared from her gun. "I will say this once. All you mother fuckers belong to me. I am the Queen of the sea. I am power incarnate. Stick with me, and I will reward you in all the pleasures and desires you could ever want. But leave me or get in my way, and I will spread your brains across the floor. Just like this fucker here. DO ANY OF YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT?! BECAUSE NOW IS THE FUCKING TIME TO ADDRESS IT!!!"

The men said nothing. Captain Adda always had a backup plan to the original backup plan. However, a few of them were silently trying to figure out a way to get out of this band. Sooner or later, the sea goddess or the kingdoms were going to come after all of them. Perhaps death was easier than rotting in eternal damnation for offending the sea goddess or living out the rest of their lives in a prison. Either way, Captain Adda had just made a few more enemies who were plotting against her.

“Good. Otherwise you can take it up with Onslaught.”

The dragon took a wet crunch out of the captain he devoured, speaking through the meat that started to get stuck in his teeth. “I’ve got your scents too. It’ll be a pleasure working alongside you all. Otherwise, I’m always in the market to purchase more willing brain matter. Absolutely delicious.”

Adda smirked to the men. “You heard him. Now all of you get back on the sea. Those against us have changed nothing.” She now had to speak to Onslaught about a personal matter that would be rectified.

~

Morning arrived in Uskar. Seer, as usual, was the first to wake. He grimaced slightly, feeling the small twinges in his chest from the healing wound. It was still sore. He worried about his health, not wanting to leave the girls alone. The healers said he would slowly recover but maybe not be the same as he originally was. Either way, Seer would not give up hope as long as there was a chance. Stretching, Seer made his way into the kitchen to start breakfast.

Liz was making her way out of the house, having an awkward silence with Lex when both twins woke. The last thing she wanted was an earful. In fact, some peace and quiet by the wall sounded good to her.

Seer heard footsteps. Lex had lighter footsteps when she was walking, practicing her princess mannerisms. So, it had to be Liz, wanting some time alone on the front porch.

Liz was putting on her shoes, ready to head out to be by herself. Maybe she'd feed Blizzard first, than go to the wall. Maybe she'd hear a Frost One's roar if she was lucky.

"Sweetheart, serve yourself some breakfast and wake up Bakura for his." Seer told Lex as he stroked her hair and then gave her forehead a kiss. "I'm going to talk to your sister, all right?" Heading outside on the porch, Seer stopped right behind Liz. "I hope you're not thinking of leaving without some breakfast. I fixed your favorite this morning."

Liz froze, giving a nervous chuckle. "Hey Dad. I grabbed some bread on my way out."

"When I fixed you pancakes? You wound me so, Elizabeth." Seer sat down on the porch swing and patted the open spot beside of him. "Come here, love. We need to talk."

"I suppose I can't just run away?"

"You could try, but I doubt you'd get very far, Liz. Problems never go away until you face them."

"...You're right." Liz sulked as she sat next to her father.

"Tell me what's going on, sweetie." Seer pulled Liz closer, letting her head rest against his shoulder. "I can't help unless I know."

"....I'm angry."

"About your mother? Or are you angry at me?"

"Everything..."

"Let's pick a starting point, sweetie." Seer ran his fingers through her hair to soothe Liz. "You're angry because you feel like you don't have a good family?"

"Yes."

"Heh, well, that's an understatement." Seer tried to lighten the mood a little. "Your biological mom is crazy, you just met your biological dad who is an assassin, your sister wants to be a princess, and I'm blind. We're quite the bunch."

"I hate it."

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, sweetie?" Seer asked Liz. "I know we're not the picture perfect family like Revy's family might seem to you, but... I promise that no matter what happens in the future, that I'm going to be here for you. You're my girl, whether you're of my blood or not."

"Don't talk about Revy. It's not fair she gets to have everything go well for her and be perfectly happy."

"Now, now, that's not very nice. Do you think Revy would blame you for her situation if this was reversed?"

"She gets two have two amazing moms and a terrific dad with a big fluffy dog that's gonna live for at least another ten years." Liz sulked into herself. "And her sibling will probably be amazing too. If she's lucky she'll get a brother who gets to transform. Who will know his mother isn't some crazy killer who won't stop until she claims you."

"Yes, Revy does have all that, but it doesn't mean you don't have anything, sweetie." Seer told Liz honestly. "I'm not exactly high on the potential mate list, my darling. I wish like hell I could give you an amazing mother, but I cannot force an attraction. I wish I could give you more siblings too, maybe a brother or another sister that you could love and they would love you. Though, you're not alone, sweetie." He then said. "Lex does love you, despite her girly ways. You two are so different, but so alike at the same time. Your mannerisms, the way you eat, the way you talk, how you even make that annoyed groan when I make a bad pun. Reveka, I'm sure she'd fight off a horde of Frost Ones for you. I'm sure she sees you as her sister, has all these years since she doesn't have any siblings. Even when her half-sibling is born, you and Lex will be the only ties to the Gerudo she has." Seer then added. "I know you just met Bakura, but I think it'd be good for you to get to know him. He might seem a little... off. Though, I'm sure this is hard for him too. I know you don't have a mom, but... I guess two dads won't be so bad, I hope?"

".....It's not the same Dad. And what will I have? What's my future going to give me?"

"Well... I think a certain young prince has a crush on you." Seer chuckled at the remembrance of Halvar keeping Liz warm with his fur blankets. "So there's always the chance you might be royalty someday. Even if you don't decide that path, your Uncle Corsaire would be more than happy to let you go on travels with him in the navy. Perhaps you could stay here, study healing magic under Naira. There's so many choices, sweetie, but you have to decide to make the most of it. I can't do it for you, I can only be here for you. Do you understand?"

Liz was taken aback by her fathers words. "Halvar has a what on me?"

"Let's just say that Halvar kept you company and watched over you while you cried yourself to sleep last night." Seer tried to keep a grin from forming on his face. "And stuttered out a few choice words that enabled me to put two and two together."

"Oh my god..." Liz scrunched her face up as she felt a blush. How was she going to deal with this information. "Why'd you tell me this? I'm not good enough for royalty right now."

"Ha!" Seer chuckled in amusement, knowing his daughter was embarrassed by her tone of voice. "Cause I can." He teased her lightly as he hugged her. "My little girl is the best."

"Daaaad, stop it. You're embarrassing me. How am I suppose to look Halvar in the face now? He didn't say anything naughty about me did he?"

"Hrm, I don't know, I can't recall, it all happened so fast." Seer dramatically slumped against her. "I was in such shock from his apparent confession, the bravado, the splendor, the thought of my baby girl having a boyfriend. Ah! My heart!"

"Oh god..." Liz held her face in embarrassment.

Seer laughed as Liz fumed in mortification. His little girl always was embarrassed when it came to romance. She even gushed at the kissing parts in books!

"Feel a little better?" Seer asked as he took her hand, and kissed her knuckles. "I don't like my precious girl being sad."

Liz gave a sigh. "I was a jerk. I think I'm gonna grow up to be like mom..."

"No, sweetheart, you are far from ever being like your mom, because you're going to apologize and set things right."

"Revy shouldn't be a friend to someone like me. She's so pretty and strong. She doesn't need someone like... like me anymore."

"Wrong." Seer booped Liz's nose in response. "Friends don't give up on friends. Do you think I'd be here today if Uncle Corsaire gave up on me?

"No..."

"Then you have your answer." Seer stood and held out his hand. "Come on, now. You're going to eat some proper breakfast and apologize to your sister. Then you and Lex can go and ride your horses after you apologize to Revy."

Walking into the house, Lex gave a glare at Liz, but one more out of poutiness than actual spite. "I heard Halvar has a crush on you. Why you going after my main squeeze?"

Liz's mouth dropped. Lex had been spying again. "Lex! Halvar is just a friend! Besides, you like his eldest brother the most!"

Lex dropped her mouth in return, embarrassment of Liz calling her out in front of dad. "N-no I don't! He just has big muscles. And royalty. That doesn't mean I'm planning anything with him."

"You're both 13 years old, and you're not going to date until your of age anyway, so I'd put boys out of my head." Seer told his two daughters with a snort. "And Sigegar is way too much of an ass-I mean, butthole for my girl. Apologize to your sister, and both of you eat your breakfast. Remember, you got to take care of your horses today!"

"Daddy! We can date now. 13 IS of age. You can't stop us from dating boys below 18 years of age." Lex protested. Calming down, she waited to hear from Liz.

The redhead took a deep breath. "Lex... I'm sorry I said you were nothing. I can't control how you feel about our mom. And I shouldn't berate you for those feelings you have. I love you sister."

Lex gave nod, her high and almighty tone calming down. "I love you too Liz."

"No, 13 is the age that you're allowed to learn how to wield weapons in Uskar with training, not for dating." Seer shook his finger at Lex. "Don't argue with me. You girls are going to finish your education, learn proper methods of defending yourself, and won't worry about boys until you're ready for a family. End of discussion." He then smiled when he heard the twins making up, and sighed. At least that was one more thing off his list to worry about for later. "...? Is Bakura not up yet?"

"No. He's sleeping like a bear." Lex said. Liz took her seat and started to eat pancakes.

Inside the guest bedroom, Bakura laid out on the bed, half naked and fur blankets having fallen off him mid sleep.

"Good goddesses, I'll go wake him up. You girls make sure to clean your plates then put them in the sink." Seer then walked in the direction of the bedroom. He heard the snoring. Evidently, Bakura was definitely sleeping like a bear in hibernation. Then again, when was the last time he had a decent sleep? Knocking lightly, Seer tried to announce that breakfast was ready but kept hearing snores. He suppose Bakura was like Mojo and Juju; he had to shake them to wake them up. Going inside the bedroom, Seer was not aware that Bakura was a messy person and sprawled his clothes all over the floor. "Bakura, get up, I have breakfast ready---" The blind man then promptly tripped over Bakura's shoes, and fell on top of him.

Bakura gave an oof as Seer crashed upon him. His senses hadn't detected any danger, but apparently a falling blind man did not count. He was shocked to find Seer grading his face against his abs, a blush filling his cheeks. "S-seer? What are you doing?"

"Imph fhell." Seer's words were muffled by Bakura's chiseled abs. The blind man pushed himself off of Bakura, still leaning against the man to find his footing. "I fell." He repeated. "Over your boots, I think."

Bakura kept hold of his arms. "You should felt your way around better."

"Excuse you, this is my house, and the twins know better than to leave shoes lying around for a blind man to trip over." Seer huffed at him with a pout. "I came to kindly inform you that breakfast was ready before I fell on you."

"You? The blind man made breakfast? I think I'm petrified to try your cooking." Bakura gave a chuckle.

"I've been cooking longer than you've been killing I bet, sassy pants." Seer smacked Bakura's belly in retaliation for the teasing, earning a loud 'thwap'. "Get your snoring self up and come eat."

Bakura felt the blind man smack his hard stomach, and looked up at him with a grin. "You seem awfully attracted to my body Seer."

"How so? I can't even see it." Seer managed to stand upright and carefully took his foot and moved Bakura's boots under the bed. "Though I will admit, your stomach feels like a rock."

"Because I work out." Bakura stood up, holding Seer's arms. "But you can feel it, can't you."

"Feel it, touch it, sense it, whatever you want to call it." Seer was not as easily embarrassed about his body or someone else's. He grew up in a brothel, so modesty was quickly thrown out the window. He was just unused to affection from an interested party. It was probably why Adda caught him off guard. "I hope you like pancakes."

"Hmmm, we'll see Seer." To get a little back, Seer received a smack on the ass as Bakura went out, putting on a shirt.

"HEY!" Seer yelped when Bakura's hand slapped his backside. "Hmph. No whipped cream for you." He rubbed his ass as he walked back into the kitchen. "Girls? Was breakfast good? Tell this non-believer that your father can cook."

Lex decided to be cheeky. "Its only as good as much as I can date right now."

"You remember that next time you want rabbit stew."

Lex stuck his tongue out at Seer in good fun. "Eat the pancakes other dad!"

Bakura took his seat. Applying some syrup, Bakura took a bite, getting an audible reaction of pleasure out of him. Quietly, he continued to eat.

"... I hear a fork and knife going to town, so I'm taking a guess and saying that you owe this blind man an apology." Seer crossed his arms. "Petrified of my cooking, my butt."

"It's good." Bakura wiped his face with a napkin. "I'll have to thank you some how."

"Uh-huh, you can thank me by helping me wash dishes and do chores." Seer felt around on one of the shelves for his heart medicine that Naira gave him. One pill a day was not so bad, but he hated how tired and cold it made him feel. Still, he had to put up with it for his girls. Downing the pill in one gulp, he then said. "The girls have to learn from Angorn how to ride today, so they're going to be gone most of the morning. When they get back, it will be time for their studies."

"Ok Daddy." Lex gulped down her water. Liz nodded. "I suppose I should go talk to Revy.:

"Yes, talk to Revy first before you go riding." Seer reminded both of his girls. "I expect both of you back here no later than lunchtime to eat and start on your studies. Scarlet is stopping by later to give you lessons in Gerudo, so I expect you to give her your utmost attention and be polite. After you're done, you can do what you like until bedtime."

"Yes dad."

"Of course daddy." Both girls gathered their things and headed outside.

"All right, you two have fun!" Seer called after the twins. "Be careful! And remember, lunchtime! I'll be listening for you two!" After all these years, Liz and Lex knew how Seer was. He wanted to keep a routine to give them both a sense of foundation and responsibility. Perhaps the horses would be a good start for the girls to show they could learn to take care of another living creature, therefore be responsible for it and their own self. He hoped. Once the twins were gone, Seer returned inside the house to clean up the mess from breakfast. "The girls will be fine. They know their way around here."

"I'm not too worried about them. They seem to know their limits." Bakura was already half way cleaning up the dishes.

"They know how to push their limits too, especially Lex." Seer chuckled as he took the spot beside of Bakura. While the assassin washed the dishes in the sink, Seer dried. "I think they'll like having you here."

"I'm glad. I like being here."

'This place is barren. What good can we do hear? Kill him. And leave.'

Seth. Bakura guessed the voice would come around by now. "My other doesn't think so. But alas, I care not on his opinions."

"Hrm, well, I'm assuming this 'other' personality of yours doesn't like the cold." Seer attempted to jest lightly. "Either that, or doesn't think he has a place among the twins."

"He tends to not like others in general." Bakura finished the last of the dishes. "So, how often does family come to check in on you?"

"Oh, there's a rotation." Seer laughed. "I keep telling them I've been blind since I was a kid, that I'll be okay. Yet, they refuse to listen now even more so that this happened." He gestured to his heart, the scar on his chest. "Raynor, my father, comes by on Sunday, Rat on Monday, Angorn on Tuesday, Bjarke on Wednesday, my brother, Eskie on Thursday, my sister, Halldora on Friday, and my aunt, Hallfrida on Saturday."

"You never have a moment for yourself?"

"Oh, they don't stay all day." Seer told Bakura with a shake of his head. "I'd go crazy if they did that. No, they usually just stop by to help me with some of the things I can't physically do just yet, or just in check in. Rat, Angorn, and Bjarke take turns chopping wood for me and Eskie goes fishing for me. They're worried about me shifting or doing harsh physical labor until I'm completely back to normal." He finished putting up the dishes, so very carefully back on their shelves. "It's nice to have a big family. My sisters and my brother have children who get along splendidly with the twins and Revy. We all look after each other; it's part of being a pod."

"That's very noble... I think I have a better solution for you than what your people have provided." Bakura went to grab some medicine from his supplies.

"It took some getting used to for sure." Seer then put away the silverware and wiped his hands dry on the kitchen towel. "I didn't even know I had a family here until Uskar was discovered."

Bakura came back, dressed in his usual attire. "Get on the table and take your shirt off."

"...? What?" Seer was not sure if he heard Bakura correctly.

"Take your shirt off and get on the table. On your back, chest outwards."

Seer's face turned blood red.

"I'm not going to strip for you!" He blurted out suddenly, the embarrassment evident in his voice. "If this is a seduction attempt, you're really going for the finale."

'He's right you know. There are easier ways to fuck him.'

Bakura growled, only wanting to help. Pushing Seer down, he ripped off his shirt. "Stay still."

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Seer did not have his usual strength and could only flail around as Bakura basically hefted him onto the table. He yelped in surprise when Bakura tore off his shirt, the cold instantly causing him to shiver. "Let go!"

He suddenly felt a hot slap around his heart, a steamy cream filling him. "Breathe. Stop flailing like a salmon turning red."

Seer felt the heat on his chest and gasped, inhaling sharply. He still did not know what Bakura was doing, anxiety clouding his mind. There were several times in his youth that he felt helpless against the woman or the man trying to torment him in the brothel. This was bringing back bad memories, that horrid feeling of being restrained.

Bakura made shiekah prayers, applying the jell further. He only let go to grab the few herbs he had on him. Grinding a blue, red, and green herb together, he made a fine powder. "It's a drug. Eat this."

"NO!" Seer reacted negatively to the mention of the word drug, smacking Bakura's hand away. He was drugged for too long, out of his mind, having only gods and goddesses know what done to him. There was a slight trace of panic across his features.

"It's a healing remedy. And this is the only herbs I have, so stop flailing you imbecile. This will help you!"

Seer knew he had to calm down or his heart was going to suffer for it. He tried his best to swallow the feelings of despair, that anxiety threatening to consume him, that terrible feeling of helplessness. With a shaky hand, the blind man felt of the drug and brought it to his nose. It was not opium. He repeated that several times in his bed. It was not the bad drug, the was the good drug. It could help him. Slowly, he popped it into his mouth.

Bakura took a spoon and fed him five times. The drug took a moment, but Seer felt a joy flow through his body. His brain gave him signals of colour and his body felt light as a feather. His heart started to beat fast and healthy.

Not only did the drug start to work a miracle, but it also made Seer feel sort of lightheaded.

"... whuuut... is dis?" He slurred slightly.

"Herbs from my clan. It's highly illegal, but perfectly healthy. Should be the perfect remedy to your heart. That scar isn't going anywhere though. You feeling ok?"

"Reeemeeedeee..." Seer actually felt sort of drunk, his words slurred. "Feel sort of... sssilly."

"Hmmm... you're high. A notable side effect for first time users. And on top of that, I gave you the strongest dose.”

"Nooo..." Seer held his head. "Dun wanna be high... drugs... bad." The blind man was having trouble thinking straight. "You... jerk wif da chiseled abs..." He was starting to say whatever first came into his mind.

"This is very good drug, I assure you." Bakura decided to make a makeshift sign of no disturbance at the front door. Seer couldn't be seen like this.

"Used ta... be high all da time..." Seer got off the table and stumbled along the hallway, trying to find his bedroom. It felt like the ground was moving underneath his feet. "Stupid... slave masta... kept me dat way cause I..." He giggled suddenly, as he knocked into wall. "Fought a looot... then took meh eyes. Can't see, can't run~~~!" He said in a sing-songy tune, even waving his hand to the words. "Run like ah little bunneh..."

Bakura paced around him, his feet silent on the floor. "Well, the high should wear off in five minutes after consumption. I hope you aren't mad when you come down. There's been plenty of effects to the mood to various consumers."

"I'mma... I'mma kick joor fan... fantastic... ass..." Seer stumbled into Bakura, still snickering. "Joo jerk..."

"Really? You aren't so bad yourself."

'You gave him an open compliment.'

"I doubt he'll remember."

Bakura packed up his medical kit and returned to his bedroom. About a minute or two and Seer would feel like himself.

In about a minute or two, Seer was in his bedroom, laying on the bed. Groaning aloud, he held the sides of his head and cursed four different languages. He thought it was a side effect of the medicine Naira gave him. Oddly enough, he did not remember coming into his bedroom.

Bakura gave a knock. "You ok in there?"

"My head," Seer gritted his teeth. "Is pounding. What happened? I remember you telling me to strip and that's about it. Did I get something on me?"

"I gave you a healing remedy for your heart. I believed your primitive medicine was lacking. Your welcome."

"You did what?!" Seer could barely stand the sound of his own voice. "Is that why my chest feels like it's been next to the fireplace?!"

"Of course. You got a little high for a moment. But it was nothing but positive effects." Bakura took a look at a clock on the wall. "Anyways, I think I should be heading out in an hour. I'm going to meditate until than."

"The hell you are, you're staying right here until I feel like myself again." Seer slammed a pillow over his head. "I got a history with drugs, I don't like getting high."

"It was a one time use. You're fine."

"You don't know that!" Seer protested. "What if I start to get high again from it dispersing throughout my body?! I refuse to let the girls see me that way!"

Bakura grabbed Seer by the face, with both cheeks. "I wouldn't let them see you like that. You're fine Seer."

"You don't know that, Bakura, I was an addict for years before Corsaire came along!!!" Seer was adamant that the man stay. "Stay!"

Bakura sighed. "I need to mediate Seer. You can do it with me."

"I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here until I know for sure that drug won't cause me to go loopy." Seer was not moving from his bed. "Just lock on the door on your way out and put a chair or something under the doorknob."

"What can I do to make you calm down and trust me." Bakura was getting incredibly agitated. He helped this man be able to be physical enough for his girls, but instead of thanks or a silent pleasure, he was being berated.

"Just... sit there, please." Seer asked Bakura quietly. "And make sure I don't go nuts. I don't care if you want to do your meditating in here, just make sure I don't harm the girls. I've been violent under the influence before, and the last thing I want is to hurt you or them, or anyone."

"I can't mediate with you acting ballistic. I helped you from your heart condition! You will NOT have a relapse! The drug has finished making its way through your system. Now will you stop acting like a baby, and believe my word!!!"

"Oh, go fuck yourself!" Seer was beyond understanding at this point. "I'm grateful for your help healing my heart, but you will not call me a child for being afraid! Believe your word?! If you want me to believe you, then stop being a jerk about this!"

Bakura went still. His body shook for a moment, ending in the crack of the neck. A deep breathing of the cold air was heard, and the eyes of dark mind fell on Seer. "Well Seer... You should have listened to Bakura."

[kenmoorman]

Chelsea Man United | Full Highlights - video Dailymotion

Manchester united video highlights - Extended highlights: Burnley 0, Manchester United 1 | NBC Sports

United up to highligts in Premier League. United move up to 13th with win. United are still winless at home. Rashford and Martial get it done, and De Gea keeps a clean sheet. Greenwood shines again, and Martial, Rashford, and Bruno all get in on the action too. Martial is a scoring machine! Pogba provides the spark to earn a draw. These men manchester united video highlights be mostly forgotten, but the bangers they scored live on forever.

Bruno and Tony get clever, and McTominay makes it safe. Burgundy-coloured smoking? Why not. A photo posted by Patrice Manchester united video highlights patrice. Here we go with Blondie Felli Cookie banner We use cookies and other tracking technologies to improve your browsing experience on our site, show personalized content and targeted ads, analyze site traffic, and understand where our audiences come from.

By manchester united video highlights I Acceptyou consent to our use of manchester united video highlights and other tracking technologies. Manchester United: Highlights.

By Vince Rosetta January By Vince Rosetta December 2, On the win "Massive win, to get the clean sheet was very importnt. Still a second-leg we have to concentrate on. Manfhester main main Bruno Fernandes continues to set the standards for United.

Picture highlights. Still waiting for match reaction Quite the delay at full-time tonight. We're yet to hear from Solskjaer or any players. In the other games A look at all the results in the Europa League tonight.

United player ratings David de Gea Handled some straight but firm shots from Kenedy faultlessly. A comfortable win It was a weak penalty. A soft penalty somehow goes past the keeper. He has to save it. United penalty Bruno Fernandes appears to be hit by Brice in the box. Crucial moments ahead United highlighhts, but it's not over yet. A second goal could all but kill the tie, but it isn't worth risking a higher line for. Solskjaer would be happy with a narrow win and an away goal. United SO close to a second.

James finds Fernandes in the box but his close range websites somehow saved by the keeper. Scrappy play A bit of a gritty game now with lots of turnovers in possession. Neither side able to do much with the ball. Vjdeo The officials haven't manchester united video highlights consistent with their bookings tonight. Maguire suspended for second leg United will be without their club captain next week.

He has just picked up a yellow card. Big block A good piece of defending from Lindelof as he blocks a cross in the box. United eventually get the corner away too.

Chelsea 1-2 Man United | Full Highlights

United could kill tie tonight Granada have played well, but United are clearly the better side. They need to kill this one off. Warning sign Another moment of opportunity as Kenedy fires a low shot straight at goal. Granada rather wasteful Granada have been quite wasteful in attack. Wasted A decent corner meets the head of Pogba, but his effort goes over the bar. On the break Another promising piece of play from the hosts on the break. Manchester United find themselves in the same position they manchester united video highlights in under Jose Check Manchester united video highlights Mourinho Jose Mourinho received a new contract and guided Man United to second but was then not backed and sacked.

Things feel different with Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. The Man City players who could be sold to finance Erling Haaland transfer Manchester City Transfer News Financial losses and a strict transfer budget will constrain Manchester City this summer but they can still raise funds for a major buy. Most Read Most Recent Bolton Man these details police on mum and friends dressed as dinosaurs in local park The 'killjoy' called police after asking if she had a permit to dress up.

Coronation Street All major networks, such as ITV and BBC, have switched to live coverage following the breaking of the news of Prince Philip's death shortly before description this afternoon.

Morrisons The supermarket giant is following in the footsteps of Tesco. Gogglebox fans predicted 'weird' start to show as viewers baffled by 'quick edit' Gogglebox Channel 4 made the decision to air Gogglebox as normal, which often sees the families reacting manchester united video highlights breaking news.

I can't wake her up' Manchester united video highlights is the MasterChef final on TV? Top Stories. The latest infection rates across Greater Manchester as all ten boroughs record falls once again Coronavirus The lowest infection rate in England is in Torridge where there was just one confirmed case during the week ending April 5.

[mancitynoise]

A touch, a turn and a searing explosion of pace. That is all it took for Greg Walsh to realise that Manchester City had something very special on their hands.

“Jadon Sancho was unbelievable. Unbelievable. This kid came over to tackle him and his touch… it was like the defender wasn’t even there,” Walsh, a former scout for the Premier League champions, tells HITC.

While most 15-year-olds are sampling their first sip of cheap supermarket cider and confronting the terror of trigonometry, Jadon Sancho was ripping apart full-backs two, even three years older than him at Manchester City’s space-age Etihad Campus.

“What an absolute talent. Explosive, direct, that variety of skills; he had it all. He always played above his age group and he must have only been about 15 when I saw him,” says Walsh, unmistakeable awe in his voice as he reminisces about the first time witnessed arguably the most coveted teenager in the game today.

If Diego Simeone played with a knife clenched between his teeth, this Camberwell-born teenager with his goofy grin and ombre tips seemed to stroll through games with a cigar in his mouth.

“You could see him light a match off a defender’s back,” Walsh quips about a player who, even before his 16th birthday, was demonstrating the kind of ruthless efficiency that separates good players from great ones.

“It was effortless. Jadon would draw a player in and then go past him. His decision making in the final third, his work rate; just a joy to watch. An absolute joy.

“He’s full of confidence in his own ability. If I was going to write a scouting report on him, that would be the conclusion.”

Though even Walsh could be forgiven for being taken aback by how quickly City’s one-that-got-away has exploded onto the scene. As is typical for Sancho, everything has happened at breakneck speed.

These days, he is one of the first names on the team-sheet for England and Borussia Dortmund, with records tumbling like Jenga blocks on a bouncy castle.

In September, he became the youngest player ever to reach 15 Bundesliga goals at the age of just 19.

And, just last week, Sancho finished second behind Atletico Madrid’s £113 million sensation Joao Felix in the prestigious Golden Boy awards, keeping Matthijs de Ligt, Erling Braut Haaland and former City team-mate Phil Foden off the podium.

Just 24 hours after that, he was celebrating a stunning goal away at Barcelona in the Champions League.

Pep Guardiola may boast the most fearsome arsenal of attacking weapons in the game right now but even he must look back rue the day Sancho decided to swap sky blue for yellow and black in 2017. According to The Telegraph, City would welcome their prodigal son back with open arms – though they will have to pay over £100 million for the privilege with Liverpool, Barcelona and Manchester United circling too.

The grass isn’t always greener

Sancho isn’t the only former City speedster pulling up trees on the banks of the Ruhr. Rabbi Matondo joined Dortmund’s blue collar, coal-digging neighbours Schalke in an £11 million deal ten months ago and he too has gone from strength to strength under David Wagner at the Veltins Arena.

But for every Sancho and Matondo, there is a cautionary tale of a young player perhaps demanding too much too soon. Brahim Diaz, for example.

Almost a year after swapping Manchester for Madrid in an eye-watering £22 million deal, Diaz must be wondering whether he was right to give into wanderlust and follow the footsteps of Sancho rather than Foden and .

With Gareth Bale and Eden Hazard, plus Samba starlets Rodrygo and Vinicius, for competition at the Santiago Bernabau, the 20-year-old has played just 18 minutes of La Liga football all season. Speculation suggests he could be loaned out in the New Year.

Looking back, Walsh admits that Diaz never quite blew him away during his formative years at City, even if the Spaniard did eventually go on to make 15-first-team appearances under Pep Guardiola to Sancho’s none.

“I found Brahim really frustrating at the time. He used to do too much,” says Walsh, who has also unearthed rough gems for Watford, Birmingham City and Crewe amongst others.

“He’s one of those small, technical players, great balance, change of pace, but he just never seemed to release it and seemed to fall over the ball in critical areas.”

For Diaz and Sancho, it was their decision making which set them apart.

Nevertheless, the Spaniard’s drawn-out departure was still a major blow for the Premier League champions, especially with Sancho and Matondo slipping through the net too.

It’s no wonder that City are desperate to tie the grandson of club legends Mike Doyle and Glyn Pardoe down to a new long-term contract as soon as possible (TEAMtalk).

'Phenomenal'

A tenacious throwback of a midfielder who has been thundering into tackles at City’s academy since the age of 8, Tommy Doyle has greatness flowing through his veins.

But if the now-18-year-old was feeling the pressure of living up to two of the club’s greatest ever players, he didn’t show it during a classy and composed debut in October’s EFL Cup win against Southampton. In fact, he looked at home alongside Sergio Aguero, Riyad Mahrez, Bernando Silva and Gabriel Jesus, walzing through the game with such poise that he could have been wearing slippers rather than studs.

Like Sancho, Doyle’s natural talent shone through well before his first-team breakthrough. Though the former, Walsh points out, is more likely to execute a perfectly timed sliding tackle than a textbook rabona.

“Tommy is a completely different player to Jadon Sancho,” Walsh says of a fair-haired enforcer who was running the show for City’s U16s at just 14 years old.

“He’s a real old school central midfielder. Even when he was 15, you wouldn’t have wanted to play against him. He was physical and he'd have no problem playing against grown men at senior level."

It is Doyle’s technical ability, however, that caught the eye of arguably the most influential coach of the modern era. Guardiola had ‘no doubts’ about throwing him in from the start against an experienced Southampton side – and Doyle barely put a foot wrong on the night.

“He’s one of the best of his age in Europe. He’s phenomenal,” Walsh says.

If Doyle goes on to have even half the career his legendary grandfathers enjoyed in sky blue, Manchester City’s academy can toast a job well done.

You win some and you lose some after all and, while Sancho, Matondo and Diaz felt they had to leave in order to fulfil their potential, the future of City’s midfield is just waiting to be unleashed.

[eastbridge-sb]

Eliteserien Asian Total Goals Match Previews – 23rd September Monday

Mjøndalen v Rosenborg

Rosenborg are in good form, unbeaten in 9 matches and are up to a solid 4th in the table. They are breathing down the neck of Odd and might even have Bodo/Glimt in their sights eventually. It’s taken RBK some time to settle down this season but now they are playing much better football under manager Eirik Horneland. I think the title is too far out of their reach. Making up 10 points on Molde in just nine games is unrealistic. But RBK have to believe they can finish as high as 2nd, or at worst third which would get them into Europe for next season. Rosenborg are of course currently involved in the Europa League group stage and were in action in Austria on Thursday night. At the time of writing the result of their match against LASK Linz is unknown but they can’t afford to prioritise the Europa League just yet.

Horneland has been rotating his squad during European weeks this year and he may do the same again here. Rosemborg have a massive squad at their disposal though and guys like Botheim and Ceide are more than capable of causing MIF problems. One thing we do know is that right winger David Akintola is suspended. I personally worry for Mjøndalen and think they will be ultimately relegated. They just don’t have the quality and I expect Rosenborg to prove too strong for them here. There is a chance the visitors could be affected by their trip to Austria though so i think a better bet is over 2.75 goals.

The clean sheet Mjøndalen picked up at Haugesund last week (0-0) was their first in quite some time. Their defence has looked quite leaky in recent months, whilst for some reason Rosenborg themselves seem incapable of a shutout anymore. I think the strong physical approach from the hosts could cause some problems to RBK, although midfield captain Christian Gauseth is rated doubtful due to injury. The previous meeting between the sides this season ended in a 3-2 win for RBK and a high scoring encounter is what I’m expecting again.

Asian Total Goals Betting Recommendation: Over 2.75 goals at 2.080

Stabaek v Molde

The last round was a very good one for Molde. They comfortably beat Tromso 3-0 at home whilst title rivals Bodo/Glimt and Odd both slipped up. In the case of Odd, their defeat at Viking may well have ruled them out of the title race. It looks like a head to head battle now between Molde and Glimt. Whatever happens on Sunday between Ranheim and Bodo, MFK know that they will still be top on goal difference. So a victory or even a draw here in Stabaek would give them some sort of gap on second place. But it will be all three points they target at the Nadderud Stadion. Molde are unbeaten in ten games, winning seven of those fixtures and scoring plenty of goals in the process. It seems like head coach Erling Moe is preferring Leke James upfront at the moment and Ohi Omoijuanfo is being left out in the cold on the bench. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Ohi given the start against his old club this Monday night though. Molde have no new injury concerns and should have a very healthy squad form which to pick from.

Stabaek are fighting for their lives and surprised everyone by drawing 3-3 away at Bodo/Glimt last Sunday. They are a much improved outfit under manager Jan Jonsson and since he took charge nobody has beaten them easily. This can be a tricky venue to play at with natural grass and the crowd getting on top of the opposition players. It’s certainly a ‘banana skin’ type fixture for Molde anyway. However, it’s a test I would expect them to pass. Molde are the best team in the Eliteserien and appear to have confidence all over the field. But it’s especially in midfield and attack where they seem to have some great options, always capable of breaking down opposition defences. MFK can be backed around the even money mark on a -0.5 Asian Handicap but my preferred pick is over 2.75 goals. A good number of Molde away matches have been high scoring this season and we know after last week that Stabaek won’t hold any fear facing one of the top teams. I would expect something like a 3-1 away victory with a very good chance of these overs landing.

Asian Total Goals Betting Recommendation: Over 2.75 goals at 1.870

Preview by: @meatmansoccer.

Access these prices from Steve Wyss’ selections for this weekend’s Eliteserien match through Skype Betting now.

The post Eliteserien Asian Total Goals Match Previews – 23rd September Monday appeared first on Eastbridge.

source https://eastbridge-sb.com/eliteserien-asian-total-goals-match-previews-230919/

[rnrmarineservices-blog]

The purist's America's Cup the story of the seven-strong J Class Regatta in Bermuda

A record fleet of seven J Class yachts in Bermuda represented the purer form of the sport for many America's Cup fans. Toby Hodges reports.

Seven J Class yachts hit the startline for the first time ever. Photo J Class/Carlo Borlenghi.

Inviting the J Class fleet to sail in Bermuda during the America's Cup finals was one of the smartest decisions made by Russell Coutts and the organisers of the event. The largest J fleet to ever assemble in the 88-year history of the class put on a true yachting spectacle sailing at its finest.

The America's Cup catamarans divide opinion sharply among long-term sailing fans. For all those who love the high speed, high adrenaline format, it appears to repel at least an equal number. Hosting the J Class in Bermuda proved the ultimate foil to the foilers. It was an exhibition of timeless design and sail handling skill that the modern Cup lacked.

When five Js raced for the first time in 2012, it signalled the true renaissance of this incomparable class. But the sight of seven Js on a startline, racing over the calm, turquoise waters of Bermuda was sensational. It was the picture-perfect showcase for these graceful 1930s designs and a demonstration of the precise choreography of the large teams of skilled hands needed to get them safely and speedily around a race course.

All nine existing Js are in prime condition, upgraded and optimised to the nth degree (although both Rainbow and Endeavour are for sale and were not competing). The seven-strong racing fleet carries carbon sails, for example, as used by grand prix race yachts. The sight of these black sails on classic yachts made for a strange sight as they cast dark shadows over the clear water.

Lionheart, a 2010-built Hoek design that is taken from one of the lines plans made for the Ranger syndicate in 1936, proved the star performer. She won both the Superyacht Regatta, which comprised six Js and 14 superyachts, and the seven-strong J Class Regatta.

But the latter was only decided in the final stages of the final race (more on that later). As with most J Class racing in recent years, places were often separated by mere seconds on the water.

JK3 Shamrock V, the oldest J and the first built for the America's Cup in 1929, changed hands last year and underwent a refit to get her race-ready for this season. Her teak planked construction means she can't take the high rig loads of the other steel and aluminium Js. She is shorter and around ten per cent slower so can only compete on handicap.

JS1 Svea, the newest and longest J, is the polar opposite. Her blend of J Class lines and maxi class technology makes her one of the most exceptional new yachts of modern times. Impressively, she got a 3rd place on her first ever race, and a 1st on the second a phenomenal achievement for a virtually brand new yacht.

Ultimate exhibition of sail

The Js held their own regatta either side of the first weekend of the America's Cup finals and an armada of local and visiting boats followed the fleet out to the racecourse.

Those ashore were given the chance to see the fleet in action too. The shallow waters of the Great Sound are too restrictive to set proper courses for the J Class, hence the races were held off the north coast of the island. On the day of the first America's Cup match, however, the Js performed an exhibition race that saw them set off at 30-second intervals on the Cup course on the Great Sound.

The footage and live commentary was beamed to the big screens and watched by thousands of fans assembled in the America's Cup village. It created a carnival atmosphere and a tangible link to the history of sport's oldest trophy.

The J Class were originally designed and raced for the America's Cup during the 1930s. Sir Thomas Lipton commissioned the first J Class yacht, Shamrock V, for his fifth challenge for the Auld Mug. The Js signalled the change from the big boat class, to one where the size and displacement of the yachts were controlled for more even racing. Fittingly, it was the adoption of the Bermudan rig that enabled Js to carry their vast sail plans.

Just three of the ten J Class yachts originally built survive today the rest are replicas or new builds of original designs. It still requires around 30 race crew to get these 180-tonne yachts around the marks, just as it did during the 1930s.

You only have to look at the start sequence, with everyone within a second of the gun, it's very close, said Shamrock's skipper Simon Lacey. It's vital to have the skill set to sail these boats safely at this level.

Photo J Class/Carlo Borlenghi

Lionheart leading the fleet.

Velsheda

The green hull of Shamrock V. The the oldest J in the fleet is in great condition but her smaller size and sailplan mean she can only compete on handicap. Photo J Class/Carlo Borlenghi.

Cup sailors on ex-Cup yachts

The huge pool of decorated sailing talent aboard the J Class yachts in Bermuda made for a stark contrast to the modern America's Cup format, where sailing roles are limited. The Js need the pros and the pros increasingly need the Js.

The pit and forward ends feature serious muscle power, ex-grinders with nicknames like 'Meat', 'Animal' and 'the Tractor'. A glance at the afterguards shows that this class holds the cream of collective experience and provides longevity to the careers of some of the sport's greatest sailors.

The crew of Ranger, for example, under long-term helmsman Erle Williams, included four times America's Cup winner Brad Butterworth calling tactics. Tony Rae, manning the mainsheet, is a seven-time Cup veteran who sailed in every Team New Zealand line-up from 1987 until 2013.

For me there is no sailing role now for a 55-year-old, Rae explained. It has all changed and that is one of the reasons we have so many ex-America's Cup sailors on these J Class yachts.

Hanuman is helmed by ex-Puma skipper Ken Read, who is supported by his Volvo Ocean Race navigator Stan Honey and eight-time America's Cup sailor Warwick Fleury trimming.

Svea's strategist is North Sails CEO Tom Whidden, a three-time Cup winner, sailing with navigator Peter Isler, his fellow crewmember from Stars & Stripes. Andrew Taylor is the crew boss, a powerhouse who has won the America's Cup three times twice for Team New Zealand and in 2010 with Oracle Team USA.

The pros are used in pivotal positions on Js and the other crew and permanent hands absorb their knowledge and experience. Lionheart's Bouwe Bekking, a seven-time Volvo Ocean Race veteran, stressed that although the pros are vital, every hand is really important. One of the strong points of Lionheart is that we have been sailing together for four years.

Velsheda's crew has sailed together for a decade and includes top Kiwi pros such as Tom Dodson as tactician, Campbell Field navigating and Carsten Schon trimming. Mainsheet trimmer Don Cowie made the point that it is actually difficult to find younger crew these days who are used to racing on yachts with such phenomenal loads.

Stu Bannatyne, Shamrock's helmsman and a three-time winner of the Volvo Ocean Race, doesn't think that there is a danger of these skilled roles dying out however. Who knows what will happen with the next round of the AC? It may revert to boats that do require a little bit of sail handling I think that would be nice.

Shamrock's crew included Olympic and Volvo sailor Chris Nicholson on tactics and four crew from three current Cup teams.

Olympic Tornado sailor Pim Nieuwenhuis mans the huge Harken primary aboard Svea. Charlie Ogletree and Francesco de Angelis flank her owner-driver. Photo J Class/Studio Borlenghi/Butto'.

Hanuman's long-term helmsman is ex-Puma skipper and America's Cup television commentator Ken Read. Photo ACEA 2017/Studio Borlenghi.

Hanuman's owner, Australian model Kristy Hinze-Clark, takes the helm. Photo J Class/Carlo Borlenghi.

Olympic Finn sailor Peter Holmberg at the helm of Topaz, with double Olympic medal winner Ross MacDonald on tactics. Photo Studio Borlenghi.

Seven J Class yachts race

On the first day that all seven Js actually raced, Shamrock's skipper Simon Lacey, the only person to have skippered all three original Js, invited me to join Shamrock's crew.

At the start, we were the only boat to cross the line on port tack a tactical decision to take the transoms of the fleet and keep out of their dirty air. Shamrock is smaller than the other Js and restricted by her older systems and rig, so has to sail her own race. We have 30 per cent less stability and 200sq m less sail area for the same weight as Hanuman, says Jeroen de Vos of Dykstra Naval Architects, who was trimming.

De Vos has worked on the design and optimisation of six of the Js over the last 20 years, including Hanuman, Ranger and Shamrock last year. Hanuman and Lionheart in particular underwent extensive work that specifically targeted the light winds of Bermuda.

De Vos said that ten tonnes was stripped out of Hanuman and that the forestay was moved forward a rigging change that was also made to Ranger. Hanuman also has a furling forestay and is the only J to use a snuffer on the kite to allow for late drops and quicker mark roundings.

Shamrock's size difference is certainly noticeable on deck and below. While she was clearly slower and less agile around the track the upside of which, for me at least, was a prime view of the mark roundings of six other Js ahead Shamrock was still expertly handled during the windward-leeward races that day.

During the first beat our crew boss Andy McLean, a Kiwi sailor who worked on the control systems for Land Rover BAR, admitted that he hadn't sailed with a spinnaker pole since the 2007 Cup.

As we approached the top mark, however, the bear-away set he oversaw was a lesson in clockwork efficiency. Eight crew manhandled the spinnaker pole into place, while two more set the jockey pole. As we powered around the offset buoy, the sheets were eased, before the spinnaker rocketed aloft and burst open. Crew then scurried to the foredeck to grapple down the genoa, the kite was trimmed and calm restored.

Unfortunately the sight of all seven Js racing together only lasted for one and a half races. While coming into the top mark during the second race, the top fitting of Svea's headstay furler parted with a frightening bang. The genoa dropped instantly to the water and, were it not for quick crew work, they could have dismasted.

The runners and sheet were immediately eased and halyards cranked onto the foredeck. No one was hurt and Svea made it back to dock safely for her official christening party that evening. But it was a crushing blow for Svea's crew, who had worked so hard over the last two years to get her ready for this summer's J events.

Svea is a remarkably stiff yacht with carbon sails and rigging that directly transmit the wind's force through the boat. An astonishing 35 tonnes of load can be cranked onto the forestay. That this failure happened in 11 knots of wind and flat water, at less than half the safe working load of the fitting (55 tonnes), is highly concerning. Captain Paul Kelly says the rig will be inspected in Newport and that they hope to be back racing in time for the inaugural J Class Worlds in August.

The Js may sail at a pedestrian pace compared to the America's Cup foiling catamarans, but as this fleet increases in size, so too does the potential for drama and position changes. One bad layline call, one poor gybe, or a mistimed entry to the windward mark even by a few seconds and the race positions get shaken up.

This was proven during the final races, when Hanuman and Ranger went into the last day sharing the lead but finished 3rd and 4th. Lionheart had a poor final start and was in last place going up the first beat it looked like Hanuman's regatta was sealed.

But when a penalty was issued to Hanuman for a rule infringement on a port approach to the last windward mark and Lionheart then managed to pass Topaz on the downwind leg, Lionheart snatched the regatta win in the final moments.

The crew were ecstatic. On receiving the trophy, Lionheart's owner said the crew had been gearing up for this event for over two years. That both Lionheart and 2nd-placed Velsheda have owner-drivers is also good for the future appeal of the class.

The crew of Lionheart celebrate their victory.

All spare hands grapple with the 950m2 spinnaker aboard Svea, the latest addition to the J Class fleet. Photo J Class/Studio Borlenghi/Butto'.

The future of the J Class and the Cup

Might such an event happen again or was it a once in a lifetime? And will the Js continue this formal link to the America's Cup?

The Js are all private yachts used for racing and cruising, so such a decision lies squarely with each owner. But would the owners be keen on going to New Zealand for the next Cup for example?

Yes, I would say so, says J Class Association secretary Louise Morton. Certainly the invitation was there.

It is very unusual (and expensive) for the class to do standalone events yet recently they have competed in Falmouth, Bermuda and their first worlds will be in Newport in August. Next year the class plans to attend the St Barths Bucket and three key Med superyacht regattas.

The success of this Bermuda event also begs the question of whether we will ever see more than seven Js race? If Endeavour and Rainbow change hands it is certainly possible. And there are still a number of original lines plans that could be commissioned as new builds.

It's in the hands of the owners to maintain the longevity of the class, says Dykstra designer Jeroen de Vos. Now the class is growing it will only appeal more to potential owners.

Whatever becomes of the America's Cup racing class in the next edition of the Cup, it would be a prudent decision for the new defenders to get an early invitation in to the J Class fleet to join in. That's how to guarantee a spectacle.

The post The purist's America's Cup the story of the seven-strong J Class Regatta in Bermuda appeared first on Yachting World.

[horny-haaland-hoes]

Last part for today.. don't wanna risk anyone leaving work for no reason (I mean the reason bottom lip anon would have is a good one tho).. hope its not too much tho

Ødda felt like waves crush over him the moment he touched himself for the first time. It was like losing track of time. His whole body was closing in on him, he could feel every cell in his body jump in anticipation by this touch. He could feel his blood heat up and his mind go blank. When was the last time touching himself felt that good? When was the last time he touched himself? Must be days, weeks perhaps. The last weeks were so busy and hectic and sometimes when he came home late from Training, he immediately fell into the bed and was gone. But this.. it felt like weeks of anger and need was collecting itself for this moment. He bit his tongue knowing the orgasm coming from this would be good. Unbelievable good. He could feel it in his stomach. He slowed down, just kept hold of his cock, felt it twitch and leak. He pushed his left hand inside his pants as well, grabbing his balls, feeling them tighten up. He was so close. He let his index finger of his right hand ghost over his sensitive tip, feeling how his precum was collecting on his fingertip and how it was pulling strings of arousal. Close.. so close

He grabbed himself tight and knew 2 more strokes and he would spill his cum.

He had to be silent.. his hips wanted to buck up and he had to resist it so bad. Somewhere far in his mind he was catching an old memory of Erling. Something he still has lively in his mind..

It happened 1 year ago when they were on Camp and he was the new Captain of the National Team, the whole day of Training was intense and Erling couldn't get enough of calling him „Captain Ødda“.. it made his guts fire up. How he said it and looked at him. He rememberes going for a shower after that Training session, being the last one like always and how he couldn't resist doing a quick wank under the steam, totally forgetting everything in that moment, until Erling asked next to him how he is doing and he remembers the heat moving up in his face and how it was impossible to hide how hard he was.

He moves his leg collecting that thought, sighing through almost closed lips.. shit he was so close, he wished he could just scream on top of his lungs. In need and frustration..

He grabbed the thought again, the images from the past flooding his mind..

How Erling smiled at him back then, how he leaned against the wet tiles of the showers, grabbed his own cock and joined. How he leaned his head against the wall, being so quick and fast with his strokes that Ødda almost forgot to touch himself again. How fast it all went, how Erling moaned and how this echoed from the tiles, how Erling trusted in his hand and how Ødda couldn't help back then but just stare and watch him cum. How it made him lose it immediately.. he could never forget it..

He felt his orgasm build up.. making him speed up, forget everything.. losing the touch for past and present..

Sander shifted next to him and it took all his willpower to make himself stop.

His cock twitched angrily, precum leaking over his fingers, he had to bit his tongue to not cum untouched in some after waves..

Ødda opened his eyes. He felt dizzy and realised how sweaty he was. His hair was sticking to his forehead and he felt exhausted from all the control he had to keep with himself.

Sander was awake, that was for sure and Ødda licked his dry lips, trying to gather some words to make this situation less awkward .. but he couldn't ..

Sander moved again, he could hear sheets rustle and then Sander shoved his leg over and Ødda followed some weird reflexes and pulled his own over Sanders..

Nothing happened.. just breathing and his cock aching with so much force, he feared it would pain to touch it again.. he hated edging.. it was torture..

Sander moved closer and he could smell his cologne. Some sort of eucalyptus and wood. Fresh and familiar and underlined by the smell of Sex. It hit him for the first time. It definitely smelled like Sex, he smelled like Sex and fæn.. Sander must smell it too..

He could hear Sander moving the sheets back, swooping over, tugging at Øddas sheets and then slide under in one smooth move. He couldn't even control any of this. His mind was a blank space. Filled with lust and only his aching cock. He felt so small compared to Sander. Like always. Sander literally consumed him. He moved his leg, feeling how the muscle passed out in it and that was when he felt it. Pressed against his hip. Ødda couldn't breath when he realised Sanders cock was pressed rock hard against his hip. He could hear him breath in by surprise. Not knowing this contact would happen so soon. Øddas world hung upside down. They often send Nudes or jerked off together, sitting in different corners of a room when they were younger. But mostly it was Erling. Sander was more shy and had to be tricked into these things. But laying that close, knowing each other was horny as hell, this was new.

He could feel Sander moving his hand over, how it felt large and warm on his thigh. The muscles under his skin flexed and his cock twitched heavy. Sander moved closer, locking Øddas left leg between his own and somewhere in Øddas mind the lights whent out. He just opened his mouth and let the moan slip past. Strong and clear. Telling Sander he knew what was coming next, telling him to do it, to move on, to use him, to hump him like a pillow. His mind gone with the waves of that orgasm that was bulding up for ages now. He just wanted to cum. Wanted to spill his seeds all over himself and be a mess.. but Sander did not move, not his hand, nothing.

And Ødda had no nerves left, he took Sanders hand, which was warm and yet clammy, larg and so familiar and guided it upwards. There was no thought left in his mind. He was a broody mess of horny feelings and he would've humped anything to get it done..

He placed Sanders hand over his cock, which was covered in his sticky, wet pants and then he moved his left leg, pressed it up against Sanders hard cock, making him moan slowly.

He grabbed Sanders hand tight, almost shaking, and moved it over his cock, trying to convince him to finally do something.. he could hear Sander chuckle.. hearing him mumble „I cannot believe you are doing this Ødda“ his norwegian thick and heavy from his arousal..

But Sander couldn't resist.. of course not and it took only seconds for him to move his cock up against Øddas leg, thrust against him, making Ødda aware of the mess he caused. Let him feel how close Sander was as well. And then it went so fast, something clicked by Sander and suddenly Sanders hand was wrapped around his cock and Ødda moaned like the world depended on it. He grabbed Sanders leg and with one move, pulled him onto his lap. Wanting to feel it all, every inch of him, wanted to have all the friction in the world. Sander moaned in agreement and Ødda never felt so needy for anything in his whole life. No Blowjob he ever got, no wet Pussy ever made him so thrilled for the outcome. Because this was new, and somehow wrong and yet so good.

Ødda pulled the waistband of Sanders pants down and Sanders cock sprang free. Sander followed his lead and in some thrilling rush, Ødda could feel how Sander did the same with him. And then it was just animalistic. The moment Sander took his own cock and Øddas cock in the same hand, there was no point of return. If there ever was one. They both moaned and bucked their hips and Ødda closed his hand around Sanders, wanting him to speed up and he did, pressing against Øddas lap, moving onto him. Ødda threw his head back.. his orgasm building up, so hot, like a fire was raging and burning houses to the ground. Sander mumbling in that thick norwegian.. saying „So close Ødds, so close..“ and Ødda looked up at him, and between them and how their mixed strings of arousal collected on their hands and how hot it looked and how red headed Sanders cock was, almost like it would burst any minute.. and that was basically all Ødda needed to see because his orgasm hit him harder than he imagined, he cum hard, spilling long shots of cum on his chest and over Sanders long fingers and he could hear himself moan so loud, the boys in the next room must've heard him. Sander bucking against him one last time, throwing his head back and cumming all over them both.

There was a silent moment that passed ..

And Ødda regained the touch to reality, could feel how Sanders hand let go and how he sank forward, how their forheads collided and how they both were breathing so hard. This was so odd and yet so good. Ødda felt Sander shutter against him and he just closed his hand around Sanders cock, still hard but getting softer and stroke him through the after waves, making him moan softly against his face..

Softly Ødda rolled Sander to the side, using his bedsheets to clean his fingers, his chest, and repeating the process with Sander, making sure no sticky cum was left. He kicked down his sticky pants, tugging at Sanders, and kicked the sheets and the pants onto the floor, the cold air hit him and in some lazy move he pulled Sanders sheets over them both. Feeling the warmth body next to him, slack and naked.

Sander closed his eyes.. exhausted and thrilled.. At least he would find sleep..

Well omg 😱 I have no words left that was so hot

[eastbridge-sb]

Eliteserien Asian Total Goals Match Previews – 16th September Monday

Molde v Tromsø

Molde sat top of the Eliteserien table during the international break. They have a one point advantage over Bodø/Glimt and a five point gap back to Odd. Most people are expecting them to go on and claim the gold medal from this point onwards. Molde have a full ten games to focus on the Eliteserien with no other distractions. MFK were unfortunately knocked out of the Europa League by Partizan Belgrade. That was a blow but it might actually be a blessing in disguise now that they can fully focus on the league. Manager Erling Moe had been heavily rotating his squad during July and August, seemingly giving preference to European matches. This was a risk but it’s actually worked out. Molde won 4 of their 5 games during this period and giving some of the fringe players extra minutes could be beneficial in the long run.

Tromsø haven’t been in bad form recently but they are still hovering just above the relegation zone. A couple of bad results here and there could suck them back into massive trouble. I have said numerous times this season that the big strength of this TIL side is getting on the scoresheet. Only three times have they fired blanks in 20 games, which is quite an impressive record. However, the 40 conceded at the other end is now the worst in the entire Eliteserien! Tromsø concede an average of two goals per game which is a terrible record and something which doesn’t look like changing. On a more positive note, new signings in attack Fitim Azemi & Aiden Barlow have both settled well and look like very useful additions. TIL have lost 6/10 away games this term but did claim a shock 3-2 victory at Brann in their most recent road match, so can’t be taken too lightly.

Tromsø also beat Molde 2-1 in the reverse fixture back in May. At the time, that victory was a huge shock result and a proper bolt out of the blue. I would say there’s a good chance that Molde can get revenge here though. When on song they are the best team in the Eliteserien and I expect them to be fully focused after the international break. MFK have a 7-2-0 home record in 2019, although the two draws have been more recent which would be of slight concern to those who are considering betting on them. Molde are -1.5 Asian Handicap favourites which is perhaps fair enough. They should win comfortably but my preferred bet is over 3.25 goals. I did mention that Tromsø have a knack of at least scoring one goal in most games and it wouldn’t shock me if they managed to hit the back of the net here. Something like a 3-1 or 4-1 scoreline could be on the cards so I’m happy to strike with this over bet.

Asian Total Goals Betting Recommendation: Over 3.25 goals at 2.030

Sarpsborg v Vålerenga

Two teams in poor form meet at the Sarpsborg Stadium where both will be desperate to win. There is every chance that Sarpsborg could enter this match bottom of the Eliteserien table. Geir Bakke’s men have only won a measly two games all season in the league, the last of which was way back on 16th June, exactly 3 months ago! This is a team that is severely underachieving this season and everyone is waiting for them to wake up and find some form again. On paper they certainly have enough ability to be doing far better, It’s a complete mystery what’s going wrong. It certainly looked like Sarpsborg would end their winless streak against Viking last time out, but they blew a 2-0 lead with only 5 mins left! The team haven’t necessarily been playing badly but are finding it extremely difficult to grind out a full 3 points.

Facing them in this Monday night clash are a Vålerenga outfit winless in five games. Things were looking good for VIF prior to the summer break but they came back playing some horrible football. I think manager Ronny Deila really needs to carry some of the blame because this team should be producing much better results than they’ve shown. Losing key playmaker Chidi Ejuke was a blow and perhaps he was even more important to them than most people could imagine. But there is more than enough ability in this squad to be beating teams such as Stabaek, Kristiansund & Haugesund, all of whom ‘Enga have dropped points against recently. Maybe the international break did them some good but I didn’t like what I saw from VIF in the weeks leading up to it. On the road Ronny Deila’s men have only won 2 times out of 10 this year which doesn’t exactly exert much confidence heading into this game

Neither team is making much of a case to win here. Incredibly, Sarpsborg are odds-on favourites with the bookies around the 1.95 mark. Who on earth could risk backing them on a -0.5 Asian Handicap? I am not saying that Sarpsborg won’t win here, and in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. But we are talking about a team that’s only won TWO times in 20 matches this year, how can Geir Bakke’s men be trusted? My preferred bet is to take over 2.75 goals. Sarpsborg have only kept two clean sheets all season, whilst VIF have looked vulnerable defensively since the resumption of the summer break. It might be that both teams look to their attack forces in order to score their way out of trouble. Despite confidence being low each outfit will probably see this match as a good chance to pick up 3 points, so they’ll probably go for it. Over 2.75 goals is generously priced and the only real scoreline that looks like a danger is 1-1.

Asian Total Goals Betting Recommendation: Over 2.75 goals at 2.050

Preview by: @meatmansoccer.

Access these prices from Steve Wyss’ selections for this weekend’s Eliteserien match through Skype Betting now.

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source https://eastbridge-sb.com/eliteserien-asian-total-goals-match-previews-160919/