for tip show 7/12/19

The Shadow Man by J.R.R. Tolkien

There was a man who dwelt alone
beneath the moon in shadow.
He sat as long as lasting stone,
and yet he had no shadow.
The owls, they perches upon his head
beneath the moon of summer;
They wiped their beaks and thought him dead,
who sat there dumb all summer.

There came a lady clad in grey
beneath the moon a-shining.
One moment did she stand and stay
her hair with flowers entwining.
He woke, as had he sprung of stone,
beneath the moon in shadow,
And clasped her fast, both flesh and bone;
and they were clad in shadow.

And never more she walked in light,
or over moonlit mountain,
But dwelt within a hill, where night
is lit but with a fountain -
Save once a year when caverns yawn,
and hills are clad in shadow,
They dance together then till dawn
and cast a single shadow.




My Type by Augustus Christopher

People ask if I have a type,
Someone I'm more attracted to.
Blonde? Brunette? Redhead?
Body style? Fit? Average? Soft?
Intelligence? Introvert? Extrovert?
I think we all have our own preference,
But when it comes down to who
I think I would want to spend
The rest of my life with, I would
Have to say that it's more emotional
Than it would ever be physical.
You could be the most perfect
Visual specimen in the world, but,
If your soul is black and your heart is empty,
You might as well not exist to me.
I need someone with feeling, a woman
Who could tell me an epic story with
Just her eyes and the way her lips
Curve just slightly when she recalls
A treasured memory.
I need an old soul. One who can love
My heart first and see past the hurt because
She knows what it's like.
She understands.
She speaks with her soul.
Touches with her heart,
Loves with her entire being.





Heartbeats by Bre
Chapter 36: In The Classroom (A Green Arrow Alternate Universe fic)


“Ms. Smoak.”

Felicity paused where she’d been organizing the midterms from earlier in the day, her hands freezing in midair, one still wrapped around a red pen, the other shuffled between some of the tests. She didn’t turn, she didn’t respond; she just stopped.

“Felicity,” he said, dragging her name out the way he always did. A shiver danced down her spine, her eyes slipping shut and she licked her lips, sucking her top one into her mouth. She slowly stood up, knowing without having to look that he was at his desk, in his chair… watching her. “Come here.”

His husky voice was like a caress as she set her pen down and turned, her eyes finding him immediately.

Their eyes met, and her stomach dropped. His face was impassive, but his eyes… they were alive with heat, deep cerulean pools searing right into her. Her mouth went dry, her lungs stopped working; her skin tingled with awareness, with the memory of his touch.

Calloused palms dragging down her spine;

Hands in her hair, her lips around his thick erection

Stubble he never shaved burning the inside of her thighs, his face buried between her legs;

Ropey scars all over his body;

Bruises he left when she rode him, when he gripped her tightly, guiding her movements;

Thick hair between her fingers, fisting it as he pounded into her.

It all skated over her nerves, a memory and a reminder, his eyes knowing exactly what she was remembering and promising so much more.

“Come here,” he repeated softly, and she was moving towards him without further provocation. He watched her approach, and she watched him watch, watched him notice the slow roll of her hips, the way she licked her lips, the flush creeping over her exposed skin.

She’d worn this dress knowing he liked it - “Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch you walk around, watch you bending over, the skirt riding up… their eyes on you… did you wear it on purpose, Felicity? For me?” - it had thin straps and was very tight across the bodice, dropping down into a full-bodied skirt that barely grazed her mid-thigh. His eyes followed the flowy lines, slid down her shapely thighs, down to the heels she only wore to see the way his eyes grew darker, the way his lids grew heavy.

She stopped in front of him and he slowly turned his chair to face her.

“Are you wearing panties?” he asked.

Felicity nodded.

He licked his lips, sending a wave of heat scorching through her, knowing exactly what that tongue felt like on every inch of her body, but he didn’t move; she never knew what to expect from him, what he was going to do. He had to know it left her frazzled, left her senses heightened, left her skin literally aching to be touched, her sex throbbing, her chest feeling so full it might implode with need.

Her nipples tingled as they hardened, and his eyes dropped to her chest.

Her professor reached for her and she moved into his hands gladly. Heat exploded where he touched, a sharp shiver dancing down her spine. Felicity’s hands landed on his shoulders, moving to his neck, and she scraped her nails under his ears, making his eyes flutter shut. He leaned into her touch, pulling her to stand between his legs.

His hands slowly moved down her waist, following her lush lines down her hips and her thighs. Felicity sighed soflty and pressed her face against the crown of his head, taking a deep breath. She leaned against him as he pressed his face to her middle, his hands reaching bare skin.

They both sighed when he finally touched her, grazing his fingers over her soft skin, moving up underneath the skirt. Her heart skipped a few beats, anticipation and trepidation making his touch all the more precarious as he moved. Her chest tightened with desire, her stomach clenching with need, excitement licking at her insides… Felicity turned her face, resting her cheek on his head and closed her eyes, giving herself over to him, to the sensations only he could give her.

His hands moved up her thighs, his fingertips barely touching her, leaving a trail of fire. Every inch he covered hiked up her desire for more, so much more - she needed him to grab her, to throw her on his desk like he had last week, or to make her straddle him, or to push her to her knees… but he didn’t do anything but move slowly, deliberately. She whined his name, whispering a strangled, “Please,” but he didn’t give her anything… he only touched her until she was panting, her hips moving slightly, seeking friction. He took his time, reaching her panties; he hooked his fingers in them and tugged them down.

The material got caught at the juncture of her legs and she spread them, the wetness soaking through her panties leaving a sticky trail down her thighs. But he didn’t pull them all the way down.

Felicity looked down at him, her brow furrowing, realizing at the last second that she’d shoved her hands into his hair as he pulled away, pushing her from between his legs.

“C’mere,” he said gruffly, spinning her.

Felicity sat down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and he lifted her up, readjusting her, letting her feel the hard outline of his cock pressing against the seam of his pants. She bit her lip and he smirked at her… she licked her lips and wiggled, just enough for him to groan. A wicked shot of triumph soared through her as his hips arched up to meet her, rubbing, and she felt him swelling, growing harder…

“Felicity,” he choked and then he wrapped his arm around her hips, nailing her in place.

He looked up at her, his eyes hooded, his mouth gaped in a soft needy pant… for her. He needed her; she made him needy, made him fly apart at the seams, made him look at her like he wanted to eat her alive.

Felicity whimpered at the thought.

His other hand slid over her thighs, and her breath hitched, her panties tight enough that she couldn’t spread her legs, couldn’t encourage him; she could only wait.

He smiled at her, just a hint of a smile, and then he pushed his hand up between her thighs.

She gasped brokenly, spreading her legs slightly, giving him as much room as she could.

Their eyes stayed locked on each other as his fingers found her slick heat.

He slid his fingers over her, barely grazing her clit, her nether lips, barely grazing anything; she moaned, and his smile disappeared, replaced with a startling intensity… he teased her, dragging the tip of his middle finger along her wet seam, through her wiry curls, just barely touching her.

Felicity tried to move, to spread her legs more, to thrust up against his hand but the arm wrapped around her hips kept her still as he continued his slow torture, watching her every reaction. A surge of wetness coated his fingers, soaking through her skirt, and a heady flush rushed over her. His eyes dropped to her lips, and it took her too long to realize that her nails ached painfully because she was gripping his shoulders so hard.

He pressed his finger between her puffy, wet lips and swirled it around her entrance. She gasped, arching her back, unable to tear her eyes from his… and then he thrust it into her.

Felicity gave him a tiny cry, her head falling back, her inner walls clamping down on him. He pulled it out and added a second finger, thrusting into her again and she tightened her hold on him, letting him hold her, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall as she concentrated on his fingers filling her throbbing channel.

“Yes,” she hissed, the word ending in a choked whine that grew louder with each moan.

He barely moved, thrusting into her shallowly, keeping his fingers pressed deep inside her.

She felt his eyes on her, felt him watching her…

He pulled his fingers out of her and she arched her hips, wanting him back but he slid them up, soaked with her juices, to her clit. It was already hard and ready, and he rubbed it, making her gasp desperately, her fingers digging into him.

“Please…”

His movements were slow, unhurried, and it was tortuous as he built her up with a tender slowness that made her feel like he was replacing all her blood with acid. The heat inside her spiraled further and further out, tightening at the same time, her pleasure mounting. She spread her legs, needing more, rotating her hips for more friction against his fingers.

“Felicity,” he breathed, his voice taut with need and her eyes flew open, flew to his. His pupils were blown, his cock hard underneath her, and it only made her wetter. He groaned, shoving his fingers back down to her opening…

Without warning, he thrust three into her.

“Oh god!” Felicity cried, her hips thrusting back.

“Fuck… Felicity,” he groaned, and she blindly grabbed his face, her lips crashing against his, his teeth cutting against her lip as she kissed him viciously.

He returned the kiss with just as much ferocity, his moan vibrating through her, his other hand sliding up her back to the back of her head, keeping her pressed against him as his fingers thrust into her.

His thumb slipped through her wetness, finding her clit, rubbing it with each tiny thrust, and it was the push she needed as his fingers filled her, stretching her, over and over and over…

“Oh god,” Felicity whispered against his lips, pressing her forehead to his as she rode his fingers, his chair squeaking with their combined weight. She panted, the pleasure starting to spiral out of control inside her, heat traveling across the surface of her skin in heady waves that left her unable to concentrate on anything else.

“Oliver,” she gasped, repeating it over and over, his name a litany on her lips; they breathed each other’s air, his fingers thrusting, his thumb on her clit, her hips grinding down, his hand on the back of her neck, keeping her anchored to him. “Oh god, oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t… Oliver, Oliver…!”

Felicity suddenly stiffened, the pleasure inside her peaking; she froze, every single cell in her body focused on the pleasure he was giving her, on his hand thrusting between her legs, on… everything… before she exploded.

“Aaahhh, oh god!” Felicity shouted as her release shot through her, her voice carrying through the empty classroom, her nails digging into his face. She cried out, his hand not stopping, his finger still on her clit, riding the orgasm out with her… he kept thrusting, her inner walls clamping down on him, wanting more, needing more… until it was too much and she grabbed his hand, stilling him. “Oliver, Oliver, Oliver… Oliver… oh god…”

“Shhh,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her limp ones, his hand still tight on her neck, cradling her as she came down. “Shhh…”

“Oliver,” she whimpered, an aftershock making her jerk in his arms, a pitiful cry slipping out and he pulled his fingers from her, gripping her thigh with his wet fingers.

They didn’t let go of each other.

Her heartbeat slowly returned to normal, her breathing evening out…

She slowly became aware of the hardness she still sat on and his taut breaths, his hard grip.

Felicity pulled back, taking him in for a moment - god, he was gorgeous, flushed with unmet need, his jaw clenched, his lips swollen… She kissed him, and he groaned, his fingers on her thigh flexing. It quickly grew more passionate as she nipped at him, her hips rotating against him. She pressed her chest against his, the stiff material of her dress rubbing against her hard nipples, their sharp protest when she pressed them against his hard body

She stood up - she was still shaky, still vibrating from the orgasm he’d given her - and moved to pull her panties back up, but he stopped her with a rough, “Leave them.” Her eyes flew to his before she did just that and slid to her knees, her fingers already working on his button and zipper. She rubbed him through the material and he leaned down, gripping her face, pulling her up to kiss her again as her hands worked between them. He held her tightly, the kiss wet and sloppy, his legs wrapping around her, rolling his chair closer to her as she finally…

A knock interrupted them.

“Professor Queen?”

They both froze, breaking away from each other instantly. For an eternal second, they just stared at each other, neither moving, waiting…

And then the knock came again.

Oliver cursed under his breath, helping her to her feet before he shoved his hard on back into his pants with an agitated hiss, nodding his head to his bathroom. “Go clean up. You still have papers to grade.”

“You really think my brain can handle anything past one plus one equals two right now?” Felicity whispered.

He smirked and she rolled her eyes at the sheen of pride shining back at her.

She yanked her panties up just as the student knocked again, and she moved to the bathroom, but his hand shot out, grabbing hers and pulling her back.

He gave her a searing kiss, one she felt straight to her toes, before he pulled back with a, “We’re not done here, Ms. Smoak,” and then he let her go.

But she wasn’t done either.

As Oliver rolled his chair back to his desk, readjusting the obviously uncomfortable bulge in his pants, she leaned over him and cupped him through his pants, making him gasp, his eyes falling shut.

“No, we’re not,” she whispered into his ear, and then she disappeared into the bathroom as he yelled, his voice cracking slightly, “Come in!”

The End