Anonymous tennis RPS kink meme
May. 23rd, 2009 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxI stole this idea from many others, but most memorably ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vom_marlowe (from who I quoted these guidelines). This is how it works:
You post –anonymously- a kink request that you’ve always wanted to see. Something you really want but don’t necessarily want to admit to.
Random people come by, read the request, and write a ficlet to order. And post it as a reply to the comment, also anonymously.
Multiple replies (ficlets) to requests are welcome, nay! Encouraged. Also, requesters do not have to say thank you and readers who enjoy the ficlets do not have to provide feedback, but it’s always loved.
About the requests:
A pairing is not enough. Please provide some sort of scenario, kink, detail, situation, that makes it special to you. A handy link to generate ideas should your pervy brain fail you.
About the replies:
If you need to, post “part 1”, “part 2”, etc.
In general:
Play nice. This is all anonymous and I will come down like Rafa on a bad day on anyone being mean.
Feel free to pimp this everywhere you wish.
If you accidentally have yourself signed in, please delete your comment and repost anonymously. If you don’t notice, I will try to do this for you.
Please, no underage characters having sex.
Request! If your request is filled, write another one!
Write! If you find a good prompt, write it, post it, and look for more!
Read! Everyone loves a reader!
I think that covers everything. So! Go forth and kink!
ETA: if you appear to be a troll I will delete your comments.
vom_marlowe (from who I quoted these guidelines). This is how it works: You post –anonymously- a kink request that you’ve always wanted to see. Something you really want but don’t necessarily want to admit to.
Random people come by, read the request, and write a ficlet to order. And post it as a reply to the comment, also anonymously.
Multiple replies (ficlets) to requests are welcome, nay! Encouraged. Also, requesters do not have to say thank you and readers who enjoy the ficlets do not have to provide feedback, but it’s always loved.
About the requests:
A pairing is not enough. Please provide some sort of scenario, kink, detail, situation, that makes it special to you. A handy link to generate ideas should your pervy brain fail you.
About the replies:
If you need to, post “part 1”, “part 2”, etc.
In general:
Play nice. This is all anonymous and I will come down like Rafa on a bad day on anyone being mean.
Feel free to pimp this everywhere you wish.
If you accidentally have yourself signed in, please delete your comment and repost anonymously. If you don’t notice, I will try to do this for you.
Please, no underage characters having sex.
Request! If your request is filled, write another one!
Write! If you find a good prompt, write it, post it, and look for more!
Read! Everyone loves a reader!
I think that covers everything. So! Go forth and kink!
ETA: if you appear to be a troll I will delete your comments.
One of Only Two (1/3)
Date: 2009-07-29 08:49 pm (UTC)But half a season past his first Wimbledon win, he wasn't really used to the screaming yet.
More room to work the swing, less distractions. The only other problem, he guessed, was the skin exposed where his shorts dipped low on his waist.
Plyometrics kept him "packed in back, for such a tall slim thing", as a gushing fan once put it - Roger blushed remembering - so they stayed up okay back there.
Peter's new training had broadened his shoulders, but slimmed his hips, so his shorts' waistbands were starting to die a lot after whole matches full of his graceful, relentless movement.
He wasn't going to quit practicing with his shirt off just because the world press tweaked him about the odds of his shorts falling down mid-match. They didn't like his hair either, grooming or ponytail.
He shrugged, shaking its richness from the elastic. He was a tennis player, not a fashion plate. He'd get a belt or something.
Besides, Andre did it.
"You looked really good today."
Roger turned around. He lounged in the doorway, bare-chested, long white shorts, a near-mirror of Roger, just with ten years' more practice honing champion's focus.
I've been working hard on the visualization, but this is ridiculous, Roger thought.
Andre lifted himself out of the doorway but didn't move from the frame till the door swung shut behind him. Roger thought he heard a click. Did he lock it?
He tried not to react as Andre came closer -- smile radiating, soft walk camouflaging genius reflexes, champion's focus beaming out of soft brown eyes, aimed straight at Roger.
Zen rockstar?
Roger called Edberg his idol, but Andre had … something else.
Reflexes like rockets, hair flying behind like afterburners. Tanned, line-engraved muscle, heavy silky body hair in the same places Roger had his. After watching Andre practice, Roger decided it might be okay someday to practice with his shirt off.
He turned half-away, not to be rude, but hopefully far enough that the heavy curtain of his own hair might hide his blush, at least on that side.
"Thanks, Andre. I just try to do my best, you know? And - and live up to, you know, what … what you're doing."
The rocket-head hair was buzzed to near-nothing, but the shave itself had of course been timed for maximum buzz, to draw all focus to, or at least around, Andre. Just like now.
"I think you're the most complete player I've ever seen." Andre kept coming. He didn't make any noise, he focused on nothing but Roger. It made Roger sweat. But that was okay, yes? He'd just stopped practicing. But that was … how long ago was that? He shouldn't still be sweating. So he …
Just shut up, Roger, he told himself. Just don't say anything.
"Ever watched." Andre's attention and voice poured over Roger.
Roger tried to keep the surprise off his face, but kind of made a mess of it.
"Sure I've watched you." Andre lowered his voice and, for a minute, his eyes. "I think you watch me too, once in a while."
Roger did. Especially if they might be playing each other in a tournament. He watched, mesmerized, from streams of glances to just shy of plain ogling, till he forced himself to quit so as not to get caught staring -- which, he guessed now, hadn't worked that well.
Andre looked back at Roger again, full-on. "You know you're good." He put a hand on Roger's shoulder by his neck, man-to-man, then lifted two fingers to push back - again - again - the long thick swatch of Roger's hair that kept falling in his face.
Roger swallowed, changing colors again. He hoped his beard hid it -- he mostly didn't think about shaving at tournament till his first match -- but he figured it didn't, especially with Andre stroking his hair out of his face. His heart was thudding, like he hadn't been off court for at least half an hour. "I can swing a racquet."
Andre slid his hand down from Roger's shoulder, rested it at his waist. It was another kind of older-to-younger-brother gesture, except there was a kneading pressure on the muscle that surprised Roger. Not exactly, um, brotherly.