"Yesterday L Pod made history as the first Southern Resident killer whales to return to Penn Cove since the horrific captures in 1970.
Ls surprised us all again by not only returning to Penn Cove, only this time, going much further into the cove. As they entered they were very surface active with many breaches and spy hops. As the day got later they appeared to be resting in the cove.
Orcas are cultural animals and pass down information from generation to generation. The whales that experienced the 1970s capture forever avoided the area and taught their offspring to avoid it as well. L25 is the only remaining Resident that was alive during the captures, and she was present with L Pod as they entered Penn Cove.
It’s hard to say why they have chosen now to return. One possible explanation is that there has been enough lapse in generations that the younger generation is more open to exploring new places. We hope their continued presence in Saratoga Passage is an indication they are finding food. And it’s entirely possible that today they decided to duck into Penn Cove to get out of the wind gusts and rest."
If nothing else good happens this week, this happened 🥹
𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓼? - michael jackson x black female reader
synopsis: michael invites you to paris after three long months apart.
pairings: michael (bad era) x artprofessor!blackfemalereader
tropes & warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI — smut (a lil fluffy smut), pwp, sub!michael, softdom!reader, established "secret" relationship (more about that later), long distance & reunions, michael is down bad, mentions of phone sex, mentions of religion, detailed descriptions of male anatomy, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, use of "mama, baby", etc., dirty talk, praise kink, p n v, cowgirl, ass smacking, creampie
wc: 4.2k-ish
an: when i say this shit put me in a tailspin? pls take me as i am or have nothing at all like auntie mary say LOL. you'll definitely be seeing these lovebirds againnnnnn!
You were really, really happy to be in Paris.
Michael knew it was always a dream of yours to go there. So when he surprised you during your summer break with a flight to come visit him in the City of Lights, you were sure your gleeful screams were loud enough to disturb your neighbors.
Sure, you hated long flights without him and he knew that, but you’d fly through hell for him, and he knew that too. And the last few months were hell without him.
Daylight rewarded your patience by gently waking you up in the warm, secure arms of your boyfriend.
Just the sight of him resting made up for the turbulence in your heart.
He was bathed in the softest golden glow. The sheer balcony curtains diffused the warm morning sun into sparkling beams that stretched across the room, caressing the high points of his soft, slumbering face. It was your turn to be lulled by the gentle sleepy flutter in his chest as he held you close, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. His sleep-smushed hair was so cute that it made you giggle in his arms, dark curls haphazardly splayed every which-way and contrasting against the ivory pillowcase. It took everything out of you not to touch him. To resist selfishly sweeping the preserved spirals on his forehead out of his eyes to ogle him better. Resist running your fingertips down the bridge of his nose. His long lashes spidered from his resting lids, creating shadows above the unconcealed designer bags under his eyes.
Watching him sleep was a secret joy for you, especially ‘cause he rarely got any these days. Michael evaded sleep like his fame and fortune would completely vanish if he closed his eyes and rested for once. Before the third leg of his tour, his schedule was brutal - studio sessions at the wee hours of the night, early morning choreography rehearsals followed by an afternoon stage fitting, maybe a quick bite on the way to a hospital visit or charity event before an occasional award show, rinse, repeat repeat repeat. Of course you’d fit time in between to nag him about it, completely throwing off his schedule, which would end up with you both playfully bickering. And then he shut you up the best way he knew how, leaving you dazed and wondering where he got the energy to put you through the mattress like that. Not long into pillowtalk, you’d notice him mumbling replies... soon asleep to the sound of your heartbeat, peacefully nuzzled between your bare breasts with sweaty curls stuck to his face. Content with ignoring his commitments for just a little bit.
You wouldn’t be surprised if your version of Heaven was like that. Shielded away from the demand of the world, the drama and entitlement that came with money, glitz and glamour.
Somewhere you and Michael would be at peace, tucked in his arms like you were now.
Your tired, pretty baby.
His lips looked as plush and as soft as they were, staring at them made you bite your bottom one to hold yourself back from waking him with a barrage of kisses. You toyed with the idea, honestly. Then, his grip on you tightened in his sleep… corners of his mouth upturned a bit, like his mind’s usual chaos had been replaced with something beautiful, serene. His whisper-soft sigh made his Adam's apple bob in his throat, highlighting the dark passion marks on his neck and chest…
Memories of last night’s activities made you hot all over.
Morning brought calm after the storm that had passed through the suite last night, leaving items of clothing scattered around the room, floor… reminders.
🗼
The way he embraced you. Delved into you. Kissed you like your mouth was holy, reverent… a necessity to sustain his life and purpose as true as air to breathe. His lips admonished every piece of your skin revealed as he ceremoniously undressed you, doe-eyes sparkling up at your warm expression. You caressed his hair as he whispered his excitement to see you, inhibited desires he’s been holding on to for this moment as well as praises onto your deep toned flesh. His voice was soft, but sure, making you squirm anxiously against his body. You could physically feel aches of his longing as you unbuttoned his shirt to return the gesture, pressing hot, open mouth kisses against his collarbone and pecks, taking advantage of a moment to show you missed him just as much. It was so sweet, so romantic, it affected him deeply… made him nervous like it was the first time all over again, hands trembling as he touched you, helping you out of your clothes…
The primal look in his eyes as he stared at you quite literally halted your breath.
In juxtaposition, he moved intentionally and took his time… like rushing would break you out of the spell you both were in. You were fully naked now so he pulled you close, and soft sounds emitted from you as his mouth peppered kisses around your breasts. He spent what felt like forever there, slightly bending to change his vantage point while never taking his eyes off yours. His tongue swirled around and around your right nipple first until his lips pulled back with suction so delicious, you genuinely pouted when he pulled away. Releasing your skin with a wet pop, he smiled and switched to the left nipple, teasingly flickering the tip of his tongue over it as he rolled the right one between his fingertips.
Michael knew how sensitive you were there.
So he continued, hungrily licking and sucking around until your gentle sighs turned into whimpers and your hips rutted towards his bulge. Your wordless desperation for touch was graciously answered when he slid his clothed thigh between your legs, giving you some much needed friction. Needy sounds littered the air and he couldn’t help but groan at how good you sounded, cherry on top of the sensation of your warm, wet rotations against his leg. Your head lolled back briefly as he kept going, overwhelmed at the sight of him gripping your tits in his large hands and pressing them together to greedily lap and suck both nipples at the same time.
The distinct feeling of your stickiness seeping through his slacks made you blush but he just smirked, coyly asking if he could come down there, taste it, as if you would say no to being worshipped in that way.
On your knees, baby.
It was a simple acknowledgement from you regarding his request, yes, but the authority and affection coupled with your neediness made him burn all over. Made him want to obey. And when he kneeled before you, all he could think about was how he prayed for this, how blessed he was to be in your presence after three long months. If only his pastor could see him now.
All that could be heard in the hotel suite was the sound of both of your labored, anxious breathing. His hands held your hips tenderly, pulling you closer until his nose was pressed against the moist juncture of your thighs, inhaling.
God, I missed you.
Voice tender, you could hear the rawness of his emotions bubbling up onto the surface… as if your pheromones unsheathed something painfully rooted deep inside of him, sealed until that very moment. All the overworking, the decision making, performing, being on all the time, battling with loneliness, unworthiness. He didn’t have to go through any of that with you, or worry about not being enough. He could just feel, and be. And God, it felt good to just feel. Just be.
Your hands gently caressed his face and you weren’t surprised to find tears there. Using your thumbs, you gingerly brushed them away from his eyelashes, cheeks... He wouldn’t look at you, maybe feeling shy and a bit exposed with his silent outpour of relief but it didn’t bother you at all… you know he loved you, and you loved him and all that came with him including his gooey heart. You tilted his chin up anyway.
In the sweetest voice, you redirected his shyness and instructed him to keep his eyes on you. He nodded and there you stood with his arms wrapped around your middle while you rubbed his shoulders softly, played with his curls, whispered that he was okay, safe with you. That you were proud of him, and that he could let go and unpack, breathe and be present. You had time. He fought for this time with you, through hell and high water.
Your desire was still simmering, but your heart ached for him as you cared for his spirit in a way that only you could. You’d do it a million times, and he knew that too.
After his sobs subsided, Michael ran his hands across your flesh, affectionately kissing the soft skin under your belly button. Heat was in his eyes now as he smiled, genuinely smiled, relieved, ready for more.
I’m so grateful for you, mama. Can I show you?
His fingers spidered down your ankle, lifting it to plant a kiss there first before dragging his lips up your calf so achingly slow, full-body goosebumps bloomed across your skin. He adjusted your leg until the back of your knee was resting on his shoulder, waiting for permission.
Mmhm… yes Mikey, show me.
You watched his gaze fall to your love bite adorned breasts, then at his own hands as they wrapped around to hold your waist, thumb tracing your belly button, until his eyes landed on the absolute delicacy between your legs. With his head tilted, he nuzzled into your folds, eyes rolling closed and groaning as soon as the mouth-watering flavor of your pussy hit his taste buds.
Shit, Michael was a starved man, and for three months he had an insatiable craving that no food could quell. A craving only you could satisfy.
Your body jerked in response to the vibrations of his moans. His grip immediately shifted to your hips to support you, but mostly to press you firmly against his mouth. Closer and closer… until you couldn’t tell where your clit ended and the gentle laps from his mouth began. Before Michael, you never knew a man could be hungry for you.
And hunger was an understatement.
Michael loved eating you. His favorite way to submit to you was by consuming you wholly, completely. He’d gladly lose time with his face buried in your pussy, accomplished only when your moans went hoarse, your slick smeared all over your thighs, glistening around his mouth, hands, bed, everywhere… Like his purpose was to be the vessel your body rocked desperately against in pleasure. Being yours, being used by you, pleasing you… he couldn’t do it enough.
Lust and longing created an ache that moved between the two of you ceremoniously, built from too much time apart. He moved like he rediscovered home in your softness, the wetness of you, like it had been all this time. Like he was homesick and the plushiness of your heated flesh against his mouth was the key that unlocked the door to his most favorite place in the world. His tongue moved languidly around your clit; up, down, up, down, slow circles, repeat, repeat, repeat, making you open-mouth moan and chase with your hips. Any thought you had in your mind was wiped like an Etch-A-Sketch when you stared down at his wide eyes, pupils blown, panting.
Fuck baby, you’re eating me so good—you’re doing so so good…
Your well was overflowing, so much so that you could hear him slurping and moaning between your legs. He responded against your wet flesh, words coming out between short pants and grunts as you caressed his curls.
Anything f’you, mama—so wet, wanna please you. Needed this bad—missed you on my tongue…
The sound of your heartbeat was loud in your eardrums. Your breath was coming out in uneven pants. It was getting harder and harder to keep steady… Michael had you right where he wanted you and he knew it. He swirled his tongue down to slip inside your twitching hole, encouraging you to ride his face while his nose rubbed against your swollen nub. Your body trembled in his grip as your hips rocked back and forth, letting him know you were close… so he added suction, rhythmically lapping at your clit at the same time. Trembles turned into twitches and shudders wracking your body… intensely, unwavering.
Right there—yes—God, I missed you so much, Michael—yes make me cum—don’t stop…
He obliged like you knew he would. His grip tightened on your ass while he hungrily nodded and shook his head for friction, urging you over the edge and mumbling for you to let it go with his mouth still attached to you.
You came roughly, moaning through gritted teeth and gasping as your back bowed—the sensation so intrinsically euphoric and expansive and missed that it unwrapped you, bringing tears to your eyes. You sobbed earnestly, feeling raw, gasping, shaking as he continued with his firm grip and unwavering stare. Michael was never content with just making you cum. He wanted more. To break you open too. Return the favor, remind you of how much he wanted to crawl in your skin and live there forever.
He loved you so much.
So much so, that he curved his long fingers inside your slick entrance and pumped them in and out, in and out, in and out… sending you babbling and flying full speed off the edge into the warmest orgasmic waves, eyes rolling back. Each convulsion reminded you that even when you were thousands of miles away, you didn’t have anything to worry about. That he still belonged to you.
God, there were so many reasons to be happy.
The remnants of pleasure that overcame your senses finally calmed, and you gathered yourself as he stood in front of you, content, licking you from his fingers, wrist and mouth.
Take those off and sit on the bed. You instructed, not taking your eyes off him.
It still made him shy sometimes to be naked in front of you. Like one day you’d decide you didn’t like what you saw. So you always made sure to pay attention while he undressed, this time with your hand anxiously rubbing between your legs. He was beautiful.
The sinews of his arms and shoulders flexed with the lean pecs on his chest, distracting you a bit as he slid his belt out of the loops of his slacks and tossed it to the floor next to his button up. You loved art, taught art history at a local college in your city, so for all intensive purposes, you knew art. And he was art. What he would deem were splotchy areas of skin were intricate designs of the masterpiece that was him. Hand sculpted just for you. It made you cry sometimes, how conscious he felt about his body. He was the owner of a dancer’s frame that worked tirelessly, even through shame, creating magic and beauty anyway despite all the pain it endured. Exposure therapy was nights and nights of kisses from you, lips decorating every “imperfection” he declared, until his eyes were wet and he felt covered in love, affection, acceptance, and desire.
The same desire you felt watching him gracefully slide out of his black slacks and briefs.
There’s my pretty baby…
Your praise made him breathlessly smile and blush behind his hands as he kicked his pants off and sat on top of the plush duvet. He was so cute, God, even embarrassed, his dick sticky and twitching against his belly. Even with the taste of you still rolling around on his tongue.
You reached between his legs to press your fingertips against his erection, effectively causing his hands to ease away from his face as both your eyes fell to his lap. His foreskin eased down with your fingers to reveal more of his flushed mushroom tip, engorged with the blood flow of arousal and glistening with precum. The urge to take him in your mouth almost won… you wanted to devour him until your jaw was sore, until his shuddering body folded in half, until he filled your throat with every spurt of his pent up arousal and the only names he could whimper were yours and God’s. So tempting… your mouth watered as you gawked unashamed, wrapping your fingers around what you would call a very sizable, warm, thick, throbbing work of art, fair skin peppered with deeper toned areas like the rest of his body. But you’d satiate that craving later. You really needed him inside you.
Michael’s breath hitched as his hips involuntarily bucked upward at the contact. You loved him needy. Smirking, you took your hand away until his body relaxed. Then you did it again, teasing him with lighter touches to hear him whimper and sigh before cupping his chin with your free hand to press a soft kiss on his lips.
Mmm eeeasy, cowboy… that’s what you get for hiding from me. D’you know how much I love you? Missed you?
If you one day got lost in his bright brown eyes, you’d never return. He nodded gently, lids heavy as he stared at you like you were the expanse of the universe.
Yeah, mama, I do.
You shook your head and tsked, stealing another kiss as you climbed on top of him.
Not hiding, you don’t. Lemme remind you…
The invitingly warm and snug suction into your walls, hot and slick and enveloping, did wonders for his memory as you descended his dick. An airy fuck left your lips as you sunk, lower and lower… He was inside you, and even just that felt so good—good enough to begin to sooth the ache distance created in your soul and body all at once.
Watching the blissed out expression wash over his pretty features activated something in your mind that you couldn’t really explain. His shallow breaths, his eyes fluttering upward in response to your pussy slowly accommodating every inch of him was worth every anxious minute you spent on that flight, bouncing your leg, ready to get to him. Every late night phone call you spent with him laughing the ache away, crying it away, moaning it away. You missed the feeling of fullness, the way he fit perfectly inside you. Better than your fingers. Better than the toys you used on yourself when he wanted to hear you lose control for him in his absence. His body shuddered as you eased your mouth against his for another slow kiss, savoring the taste of yourself on him as he bottomed out.
Mmh, you barely fit, shit… feel how much I miss you, hmm?
He couldn’t control his whimpers as his hips undulated underneath you, body begging you to move.
Fuuuuck, yes—God—pleaseeee, mama, please I need you…
You wanted to relish in it a little bit.
Riding him satisfied your desire for control, your want to make him lose his composure and inhibitions completely and get lost in you. This was your show now—this bed, your stage, and both of your bodies were performing a tantalizing duet that always topped the charts of your bedpost. Michael didn’t need any music to fall into step with your illicit choreography, body molding into your moves just right. He was so anxious, so ready to feel what dance you’d do next he was twitching inside of you, hands holding your hips so tight you were sure he’d leave fingerprints.
Eyes on me…
You kept direct eye contact with him while rotating your hips, waist winding in a slow and steady rhythm you knew would drive him crazy as you held his neck. His pulse thumped under your palm as he groaned, rhythm of his heart matching your own.
There was nothing in this world… nothing, more encouraging than the grip of Michael’s feverish hands as he kneaded your body as you rode. Nothing more stimulating than the muffled tenor of his open-mouth moans against your jaw, mixing with your lead vocal to create the most sensual harmony. He danced his fingertips down your back, making your spine elongate and curve into him more until your nipples rhythmically grazed his chest with your movements. This was Heaven to him.
He wanted more. One of his large hands came down on your ass, smacking it roughly. The whimper from your lips at the impact made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, the tinge of pain mixed with the mind-numbing tingles in your limbs encouraging you to go faster.
Feels good, don’t it? Mmhm I can tell, baby… it’s twitchin’ so deep in me, mm, you ready to cum?
Your slow ride turned into a full-on bounce and Michael leaned back a bit to capture the moment, taking mental pictures he wanted to keep for the rest of his life. God, you were so beautiful, staring at him through barely open eyes, battling between staying present and succumbing to the pent up tension up in your lower belly as your body moved at a dangerous pace, bruised breasts bouncing on each impact. His eyes locked on where you both connected, watching incredulously as your swollen pussy made him disappear and reappear like magic while your thighs slapped down on his over and over again with a wet plap plap plap. Admiring all the creaminess you’d worked up around his dick made his balls tighten even more… that milky white substance in a thick ring around the base of his shaft, some of which had since smeared everywhere between his legs.
You sped up just a little more and….
Oh God, oh you feel s’good mama yes—I’m about to—please
Michael’s mouth gaped open, words coming out jumbled as his body curled up on itself and against you instinctively. His hips rose off the bed, tensing as the pressure of his orgasm rose from his thighs to his heavy sack, then to his dick, until it twitched into an eruption as it all became too much to contain. He was hitting your spot deliciously still, enough to trigger your own release but you were relentless, focusing on squeezing your muscles around him as you came up, pulsing them as you came down. The sound of your ass smacking in his lap was faster now, and you did it over and over and over until the room was filled with his grunts and whimpers and pleads for you not to stop, face contorted in pleasure.
Making him cum first always tipped you over the edge.
There was something so dirty about it; the warm feeling of his release filling you up in hot spurts, so much that you’d end up using it as lube to go again. There was always so much, he’d leak out of you into his own lap or on the sheets where you both could watch between sessions… And if he was feeling particularly sentimental that day, he’d collect any of his renegade cum on his fingers and push it back inside you. For safe keeping, he’d say.
Michael shut his eyes tight at the beginning of your spasms, senses overloaded and overwhelmed and still wanting more. So much so, he took matters into his own hands, literally, slipping his hand between your bodies to roll his thumb around your swollen clit as he continued to twitch inside you, still hard. The gracefulness of your movements graduated into desperation, and there was an unmistakable tremble in your body as you chased the feeling, moaning in crescendo… probably loud enough for the whole hotel floor to hear.
That’s it mama, yes yes yes—take it, use me—I wanna feel you, s'good please
His encouragement was joined by a firm grip on your ass, taking over from underneath to pound up into you until your vision blurred around the edges. You came hard, screaming his name, walls convulsing so intensely around him that he had no choice but to cum again...
🗼
Michael shifted underneath you again, the gentle caress of his hand on your back taking you out of your vivid memories.
“Baby.” His voice was thick with much-needed rest. He sounded so good, your ears immediately perked up in attention, chin resting on his chest.
“Yes?”
“You watchin’ me sleep again?” The edges of his mouth quirked up, contradicting the playful judgement in his tone.
“I can’t help it, you’re so pretty…”
His eyes opened in a squint from the brightness, already blushing as he looked down at your doting face.
“Baby…” He warned but you didn’t listen, instead leaning up to dramatically kiss his hot cheeks over and over until you felt his body shake with laughter against you.
Once you got out most of your pent up affection, you planted a sweet kiss on his lips.
“I could lay here with you forever.”
“Forever, huh? Ironic you say that…” Michael smirked, pulling one of your hands up to kiss your knuckles. “I was thinkin’ about startin’ somethin’ forever, today.”
Your initial confusion lasted for about five business minutes until you caught sight of your left hand. There, a big, fat radiant cut diamond sat snug on your fourth finger.
Yes.
taglist: @justalocallesbian, @narratedillusions, @enhasdihsucker, @blcknebula, @somenichegirl, @heeheeow, @someonessoulrecord, @fortuncooki, @baldmonkmonks, @darkgreengrl, @heubstr, @96kittii, @cinnamoncunt (please let me know if you'd like to be added or if i missed you!)
I always got in trouble as a kid for "wasting" all the tape or tissues in the house with my "trash projects" as my parent always called them.
Growing up and seeing how inexpensive those things were, really had me feeling some complex feelings...
Anyways, I saw someone make pull tabs for the scrapbook and other cute whimsical additions to it, and I was hit with such inspiration, I made this waterfall card of the 12 song sigils in Sundowing. It worked out amazingly for the first time I've tried something new!
Now that I've marked the first page in the empty sketchbook, the seal is broken and my creativity is unleashed ✨️
I think I'll make more Sleep Token related things in this one. Because I'm an adult and no one can stop me 🔥
This was the first time in a long time I felt myself get lost in the process. I took my time with it because I didn't want to rush, it didn't need to rush, and it was ok. The art itself is nice to look at, but making it felt so wonderful 🎶
Am I healing or is it just my follicular phase?
(Unrelated sidenote, the sketchbook itself was a gift from my best friend. He couldn't sleep one night, so learned bookbinding just enough to make this one and never did it again lol)
Headcanon that Flambae can go from Flambae to Uncle Chad mode in about .2 seconds and it gives everyone in proximity whiplash.
Robert didnt need to witness it to discover how jarring it can be. He sent Flambae to be a celebrity guest judge at a kids art show. He had a little panic because it turned out to be an engineering show where kids make towers and bridges to demonstrate natural disaster resistance and such.
Flambae didnt realize his comm was still on when he dragged a father out of the room to chew him out for being horrible to his own kid. Flambae want from 10 f bombs and 8 bitches per 3 sentences while threatening bodily harm and at least 4 arson violations to walking back inside and
"Oh em GOODNESS! Is that toothpicks!? Wooooww. That is so smart, I cant believe you got it to stay up through that. How did you do it *sits on the ground and stares eye level with the bridge* what level earthquake was that? What material is this simulating? What's the scale? Can we paint it orange?"
Robert didnt even have time to tell him he was on the recorded line before he was cooing over all the projects and (somehow) asking all the right questions to let the kid explain their project.
