#21st avenue

[loveinlesbians]

[pensamentsisomnis]

[ente-lab]

[just-a-ghost00]

What are they hiding from you?

Group 1 - Howl

Cards : 5 Ochre Sea Star - embrace rapid changes, king of wands, Power, Moonstone - find your natural rythm

There are a lot of sexual references subtly hidden in these cards. As I was shuffling your cards, the song Okay from Chase Atlantic was playing. Then as I started with the reading, two other songs played : Aerials- System of a down & Tied to your body - Monsta X. If you were doubting this person's attraction for you, here is your confirmation that they are into you. They feel a lot of desire for you and apparently they have finally decided to act upon it. There's a lot of fire in the air, excitement, giddiness. They can't wait to see your reaction when they reveal to you what they were hiding. And looking at the cards, that could be happening really soon. I'd say within a few days. This person will either bluntly tell you about their intentions or they will let something slip that will betray them. I was picturing fireworks for some reason. Maybe there's a carnival going on in your town or a festive even of some sort that you will attend to together. This would make sense because of the moonstone card I'm getting a night time energy. The next new or full moon seem to be significant. FIY, the next new moon happens on the 5th of July. Oh and July 4 is Independance day. It is a celebration. Well, if you were planning on celebrating this commemorial day with friends, the night could turn out to be interesting to say the least ;) The next full moon is happening on the 21st of July. So maybe these two dates will be important for you and the person you're thinking about.

Group 2 - Haku

Cards : 13 Dumbo Octopus - Stop chasing and attract what you desire, 2 of cups, reclaim, Bismuth - rewrite your code with rainbows

While I was shuffling your cards, the song Attitude from The GazettE was playing on my speaker. And as I started channeling and writing your messages, Teardrops from BMTH started playing. This person that you're thinking about is tired of waiting for love to come to them. They are tired of trying relationship after relationship just to be heartbroken and deceived by people. They are tired of waiting for you to make the first step. They want to hide from you that they love you and intend to conquer you. They want to step into your connection with a better and healthier energy than what they were into before. They are reclaiming their power and their place in your heart. They may have lost track of who they were and what they wanted from love, from the connection you shared, from their partnerships in general. They came out of a state of confusion and sadness. They've realised that they only live once, that fighting only to mourn what was lost is meaningless, that everything has a start and an end. Including their own life. They don't want to waste time crying or doing meaningless things. They want to live, to love, to laugh, to have fun with life so that they have no regret. They know that if they had given up on you, they'd have regreted it so they intend to come back. The reason they hide that from you is because they fear rejection. It may take some time before this person states their truth. If I had to give you an estimated timing, I would say several months.

Group 3 - Ashitaka

Demons in your dreams - Motionless in white BTBT - B.I ft DeVita and Soulja Boy Honeymoon avenue - Ariana Grande blueberry eyes - MAX ft SUGA

Cards : 25 Mantis shrimp - don't give up now, Destruction, Agate - find your solid ground, 8 of cups

There were several references to demons in the songs that were playing during your reading. Combined with the energy of Mantis shrimp and Destruction, it feels like your person is fighting inner and external battles. For some it could be related to addictions. This person is trying to move away from something that is detrimental to their healt, whether it's a person, a situation or a material thing. I'm picking up on several scenarios. I was getting for some that they are actually trying to cut ties with you. They are tired of fighting for something that they know deep down they can't change. They've been trying really hard but now they realize that moving on is the best thing they can do. But for others, this person is attached to you and loves you a ton but they know that there are things and people in their life that prevent them from being there for you, be a good person to you. Again that could be addictions, certain connections, or a toxic attitude overall when it comes to you. They are willing to put in the work in order to be a better version of themselves that you would be safe with. They are not telling you this because it is a very vulnerable period of their life which they do not wish to show. They feel like telling you would hurt you and the last thing they want to do is destroy what you have, regardless of whether they intend to stay or not. They don't want to be bad to you, they still care enough to be the bigger person and do what is necessary.

[shinysobi]

the kiss (aka that one scene) and subsequently—

*spoilers for bridgerton s3*

ahem...this might be a bit indelicate? Let us think about who Colin is, at his core. he is a dreamer. he's sweet, he's kind to a fault, and he's also the Bridgerton brother most likely to have ao3 in the 21st century.

Penelope asks for a kiss, and Colin cannot deny her that. so much of their relationship is evinced by the fact that they cannot deny each other anything, even if it is at the expense of their own well-being. Penelope has never once voiced her feelings for Colin because she is aware that he would never see her in such a light, and mostly because, she does not think that her feelings are his business. In the books and in the show, Penelope has never voiced her crush.

So, when she's facing the very real prospects of remaining a spinster and firmly under the influence of her mother and sister (Prudence, especially, I don't really think Phillipa would be that bad) she makes a choice to ask the love of her life, mind you, the one man she had always felt safe with, to kiss her. She is waving goodbye to the dreams of being married, finding a place of her own in a world where a woman had no value if they were not attached in matrimony to a man. Yes, it seems pathetic, yes, it seems desperate. It is. It is desperate. Penelope is desperate at this moment, and she is reckless, but she is not pathetic. She wants to be kissed, and she asks for it, it is a moment where we see a woman exercise agency for the first time in her life. Feelings are so very rarely black or white, and so is this scene; on one hand, you feel wronged and angry at the fact that Penelope is pleading for a kiss, on the other, you empathize with her situation and where she is coming from. She wants this moment, and who better to ask from, than her best friend? Colin has always, always been there for her, and she has been there for him. They know each other the best, she has had the privilege of being able to love him. She wants love, and she has it in her hands at this moment, a fleeting, transient glimpse into what her life could be if she were someone else. This is the moment when Penelope Featherington's dreams are well and truly shattered.

And that same kiss turns Colin's world on its axis. It is so wonderful to see on screen how the same action can have two entirely opposite, but just as important effects on people. Colin has always loved Penelope. This is not even a discussion. He took action on behalf of her family (on behalf of her, really) when he found out about her cousin's schemes. He gives Cressida the cut direct when she humiliates Penelope in front of him. He seeks her out at every social assembly. He has always looked out for her and has always loved her. But all this is platonic. He has never felt a physical connection with her, because neither of them has had the chance to explore that avenue. Neither Colin nor Penelope are aware of their latent attraction to each other. For Penelope, it is because she has never been allowed to feel a physical connection with anyone, and Colin because he has never thought of pursuing a physical connection with Penelope. It is their kiss that ultimately awakens that connection in Colin, and by connection, Penelope asking Colin for a kiss is what puts the wheels in motion.

Which brings me to the first paragraph. Colin is the sweetest boy in the Bridgerton family (Gregory I love you, but nine children? Get off that woman, immediately). When he realizes that he likes Penelope, and loves her romantically, what does he do? He internalizes it like he does everything else. So much of Colin's character arc, both in the book and in the show is about him internalizing everything. He refuses to voice his own feelings if they make other people uncomfortable, much to the detriment of his own mental health. After being deceived in the first season, he removes himself from London because he cannot bear to stay in the city anymore, not when he is reminded of how naive and stupid he was, every moment. It is also important to realize that Colin has been viewed as the naive, soft-hearted brother, by everyone else. When he gets engaged in season 1, Anthony, his big brother, the example he is supposed to follow, tells him that he should have taken Colin to brothels and accuses him of getting married to have sex. In season two, Penelope, an outsider, is the only person who gives a damn about his thoughts. His own family refuses to listen to him, and what does he do when he returns a second time? He tells them, "I shall not bore you with the details". He knows, no one essentially gives a shit. This is why, when he comes to the knowledge of the full breadth of his feelings for Penelope, he internalizes so hard he dreams of her. And this is not an indelicate dream. He does not dream of taking her in the back of a carriage or on his yellow sheets, he dreams of her returning his feelings. He is yet unaware of the extent of Penelope's feelings toward him, but he knows he should not force his feelings onto her, and that is why he dreams of her.

I could go on and on about why Colin is the best Bridgerton brother (Gregory, nine children) but it will take up a lot of space, so I shall keep it brief: (in the show) Anthony almost marries Edwina, a girl who is what, thirteen(?) twelve (?) years younger than him, a girl who has no safety net outside of her sister and her mother, her sister whom Anthony was in love with, and refused to confront his feelings for. Literally, no one forced Anthony to propose to Edwina, he went down on one knee while being aware of his feelings for her older sister. Kate would have been content with relinquishing her younger sister to a marriage where she loved someone who would forever love another. Imagine if Anthony had married Edwina as he intended. Do you think, for even a second, that he would look at her face and not be reminded of Kate? Not to mention neither of them took action till the very last second, and Edwina, a bystander, was forced to ruin herself. Half the reason why she married abroad is the fact that not a single person in London would have married her (headcanon: she marries the Prince, fuck you, Anthony) when she was very publicly denigrated as the Viscount Bridgerton's cast-off. Yes, the Queen's favor saves Anthony and Kate's marriage from scandal, but it also saves Edwina, it saves her from further public embarrassment and scrutiny by a ton that not only views her as an outsider but also envies her for securing the title of the Season's Diamond. (Book)Benedict forces a woman from a servant class to be his mistress while he searches for the girl he fancied to be the love of his life. I'm sorry, there's no coming back from that. Colin gets angry when he is aware of who Lady Whistledown is, but his anger is not directed at Penelope herself. It is directed at her lack of thought for her own safety. Colin puts Penelope's safety and reputation over everything. In the carriage scene, he steps back as soon as he hears the words "but we are friends" from her mouth; he takes it as a sign, that this is Penelope telling him I don't have feelings for you, and he is happy to respect her wishes. Colin would have never voiced his feelings a second time if she had rebuffed him then, he would have been happy to remove himself from Society and spend his days on the Continent, writing in his journals. So much of both Penelope and Colin is them learning to voice their wants and desires and fuck, it's the most beautiful thing to watch as it comes to life on my screen.

[scopophilic1997]

scopOphilic_documentary_109 - scopOphilic1997 presents a new micro-messaging series: small, subtle, and often unintentional messages we send and receive verbally and non-verbally.

Memories of places in the past (former gay-lgbtq+ bars/clubs/cafe) (L-R, T-B): The Break (8th Avenue - Chelsea), Big Cup (8th Avenue - Chelsea), The Spike (West Side Highway - Chelsea), & Zone DK (West 21st Street - Chelsea)

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Barrington Hall

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Barrington Hall. This is the 21st building for my English Collection and inaugurating the red brick collection.

I decorated most of the house ground floor, for reference.

History of the house: 

The Barrington family, long-established in Essex since the Conquest, initially resided at Old Barrington Hall. This estate, shown on a 1624 map, included substantial structures, orchards, fish ponds, and brickyards. However, in 1564, they moved to the Priory at Hatfield Broad Oak, signaling their ascent as country gentry. Throughout the late 16th and early 17th centuries, the family engaged in legal disputes over rights to Hatfield Forest with the Rich family, eventually securing a portion of the forest.

Sir Francis Barrington played a significant role in government, receiving a baronetcy in 1622. The family also had investments in New England and Ireland during this period. Despite their growing wealth, the Priory required repairs by 1700 and was demolished, causing the Barringtons to relocate to Great Waltham. The family seat at Hatfield Broad Oak was eventually rebuilt in the 1730s by John Shales Barrington, although he left it unfinished, leading to his reclusive life.

In the 19th century, George Alan Clayton Lowndes acquired the estate and made extensive neo-Jacobean renovations to the house and gardens, which were lauded in contemporary publications. After multiple ownership changes, including the purchase by A.H. Gosling in 1907, the property was later sold to the British Livestock Company and is now owned by CPL Aromas plc. The original parkland has been divided, with only 12 hectares surrounding the house remaining as part of the current estate. The landscape includes notable trees such as ancient oaks, as well as remnants of historic avenues and garden features.

More history: https://www.francisyork.com/blog/barrington-hall-a-palatial-georgian-mansion-one-hour-from-london

House file:

Location: Essex, England

Material: red brick

Style: Neo-Jacobean

Date:  1624 + remodelings

This house fits a 50x50  lot, but it coulf fit a 50x40 if you lose the garden.

I only decorated some of the important rooms. All the rest of the house is up to your taste to decor.

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like the house and share pictures of your game!

Follow me on IG: https://www.instagram.com/sims4palaces/

@sims4palaces

Ealry acces: November 20

DOWNLOAD: https://www.patreon.com/posts/barrington-hall-113325949

[ireton]

No audio.

St. Louis Missouri

Surveillance video has been released from a use-of-force incident on February 21st involving a fleeing armed suspect who fired at detectives and was ultimately struck by an unmarked police vehicle.

The Explorer struck light poles near McLaren Avenue and Goodfellow Boulevard and crashed. The driver fled on foot and fired shots at one detective who was following in a vehicle. The fleeing suspect was struck by a police vehicle while shooting at detectives and apprehended.

Taiwansley Jackson, 42, was charged with one count of each first-degree assault, armed criminal action, resisting arrest by fleeing and unlawful possession of a firearm.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Regina city council has rejected an effort to rename a street that bears the moniker of a man who helped institute Canada's reserve system and establish Indian residential schools.  Ward 3 Coun. Andrew Stevens and Ward 6 Coun. Dan LeBlanc brought a motion calling for a renaming of Dewdney Avenue to Regina city council, which opens every meeting with a land acknowledgement honouring the Indigenous people of Treaty 4 territory.  LeBlanc said it was "improper" in the 21st century to have a major street named after Lord Edgar Dewdney, who he described as a "settler-colonialist racist" in an interview in May.  On Wednesday, LeBlanc urged council to support the change in the spirit of truth and reconciliation. 

Continue Reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[loveinlesbians]

[pensamentsisomnis]

[melancholicstation]

Salvatore can wait, now it's time to eat soft ice cream — bobby f. kennedy

As Jack's wife many may propose your sex life to be exuberant and quite frequent: in reality it's nothing of the sort. After having your beautiful baby-girl Enya, you'd expressed fears and insecurities of being intimate about your new post-baby body with Jack to which he kindly dismissed them telling you that he loved you even more now. While hearing those words from a man you've loved half your life warmed your heart his sentiments fail to quell your fears. However, what sets you free from all your present worries and gives you release is in fact his own brother and your brother in-law: Robert.

taglist: @vile-harlot @dulcegal @rockstarfreddybby @starsprangledgirl @bluelancergirl @hisamericanmuse @violetharmonsfavgf @vampyiricris @rocker-chick-7 @reptaysgf @castiellover77 @salvatoresablondie @mckinleygirl98 @h-l-vlovesvintage @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @obsessedwithjohnjr @monturi @darcyspirits @unmarlou @remotewatch @kennedyism @bloxholden35 @fortheloveofjos @strip-weather-forecast @ultr4v1ol3nt @acrowdedstreetin1944

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, postpartum insecurities, possible inaccuracies to do with pregnancy and postpartum as i have never been pregnant before, infidelity, nipple play, desperate catholic man, unprotected sex, drunk sex, fingering, being eaten out, 18+

words: 2,950 words

It was a quiet morning for you. A statement that you could rarely ever leave your mouth truthfully due to your residence being that big egg-shell coloured house located at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington—or how it's more commonly referred to as the White House. But you weren't in the White House, no, you for now were in the land of fado, wine, and poetry: Portugal.

Taking advantage of the barren land in your calendar managed by your assistant spacing between the 21st and the 28th you had decided to go visit your sorority sister, Alma, and her sprawling Lisboa estate 'Quinta da Abrigada'—or at least that's what she'd called it in her letters inviting you to the country house. You'd been initially apprehensive, a cross-country flight with a 6 month old baby seemed to be a recipe for complete and total disaster. Not to mention the press coverage, nit-picking your choices labelling you as an unfit mother, while hailing Jack as the dotting husband and father. Which he was, though that was when he was there which proved to be scarce.

Despite this worry of yours the person who truly convinced you was not Alma herself and her gushing about the residencies sparkling woods and breathing taking views of the Serra do Montejunto. In fact it was your very own tousled hair, chiseled jaw, president of the United States husband: Jack.

Apparently, in his astute opinion, he believed that some time away from the unrelenting US press and the ever thinning tightrope of public opinion would be good for you and the baby. Initially you'd worried that it would be to distressing for your little Enya to be away from her father that much for more than a couple days—you swore that you'd read a dreadful story in women's weekly of a baby forgetting the face of one of their own parent! You retold this story to Jack to which he only chuckled, and delicately cupped your face teasingly tapping the tip of your nose. In response to this he'd told you that once he'd finished up scheduled business in Palm Beach that he'd fly to Lisboa on the SAM 26000 Boeing. That was on the night before the 21st, and after listening to your husband you'd confirmed with Alma that you were in fact coming.

However it was now the 24th and Jack still hadn't shown up, and you were given no indication that he was ever going to.

Your melancholy about your marital situation was intermittently interrupted for a few days by Alma keeping you an incredibly busy working woman. You see, she was trying to convert the Portuguese country home into a fully functioning hotel and a wedding venue—she would never admit it to you or to herself but you had a sneaking suspicion it was a true vanity project in every sense of the word. You'd heard rumblings between European socialites that her Argentinian polo player husband was growing weary of her shopping sprees down at the Avenida da Liberdade and the last straw was a wine-filled rampage of the strip boutiques on Castilho Strett that ended in a bill of over sixty-two thousand euros.

Despite positioning your Portugal stay as a vacation Alma really put you to hard labour. Or at least your version of hard labour at 6 months postpartum which was lugging the ostentatious amount of floral and foliage arrangements for the happy couples who'd chosen the Portuguese country home to be a witness to their holy matrimony.

By 4 pm you were done for the day having laid out the varied bouquets of chocolate cosmos, primroses, hollyhocks, and wisteria. Some were incased by crystal glassed vase, like a trapped ballerina forced to spin inside of a music box. While others were allowed to roam free, tangled up the arched walls of the chapel, propped up by short and stumpy neoclassical stone pillars.

You'd initially underestimated how unhappy it would make you to see couples—each more happy than their former. It made you want to take a microscope to the state of your own marriage and shred it open. How unrecognisable you both were to the versions of yourselves that had walked down that Rhode Island aisle that day. Your marriage to Jack wasn't bad by any means: it was just different than it had been at the beginning. After having a child your relationship with Jack had morphed into more of a companionship rather than a romantic relationship. He'd become more distant: working later hours and coming to the west wing smelling of palo santo and black current bud.

A stark contrast to your personalised musk of waffle cone accord and vanilla...

But you were committed to make your marriage stick. For your sake, for your children's sake, and for the sake of Jake's whole presidential career. You were each other's best friend but sometimes, all of the time, you'd just wish he would touch and cherish you like a lover. You just wish he would be soft with your heart every once in a while.

You'd hoped a European getaway for the both of you would make some difference, but it seemed that Jack had made his choice. And so will you.

Because you had been such a help around the home Alma decided to watch Enya while you helped the florists prepare, the last time you saw your baby-girl was only a few short hours ago and yet your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest.

Dusting yourself off, brushing away the cut stems of flowers and pollen from various flowers that were sure to stain the surplus of linen matching sets you had brought along with you, you made a bee-line away from the chapel and towards the main house. Maybe Alma truly was on to something about making the sprawling estate into a hotel what with its ample land of approximately 1,350,794 Sq Ft.

Due to its overwhelming size Alma had allowed you to stay in the third wing of country home which had been newly renovated to accommodate for her aspirations of it one day becoming an auberge, but much, much large. With its many rooms you and Alma, and Jack if he bothered to show, were more than comfortable. Though you could afford it with the shear square footage of the wing, Alma's cot stayed with you directly to the side of your king sized bed, a welcomed addition of the renovations by you.

You couldn't believe that Alma was taking this kind of project on, to you just planning it all out seemed hugely anal. What with all the construction needed to implement tarred streets, sidewalks, public lighting, water pipes, sewage, electrical and network cables at the entrance of each lot. I mean it was a lot.

As you push open the door connecting the wing you immediately b-line for the washroom: eager to get the confused scents of opposing flowers off of you this instant. You thought back to your conversation with Alma, remembering that she would be watching her until 5pm: delightful. Despite the absence of your daughter resting on your chest being deeply felt by you, it was a blessing to be able to take your time in the shower. A privilege that you had taken for granted in your twenties.

Apparently your darling Alma, along with Alma's own older children, was going to get a private tour of the romantic woods, the various sycamore trees, and even the proprietary chapel in between the scheduled weddings that day. You'd gathered that by now, taking a look at your watch while you start to disrobe for the shower, Alma and Enya would have already stopped by the church by now.

During your shower you lathered yourself with your 'garden essentials' body wash the scent of California lavender leaving you with a camphorous scent, awakening your senses invigorating you for the evening. Next, you applied a scotch pine shampoo bar to your scalp-a gift from one of your Californian friends from elementary school who'd turned to the all natural life—whatever that meant. Once out of the shower you palmed a hair oil blend of argan oil, natural antioxidants and fatty acids, pear seed oil, and castor oil throughout your locks. Since getting pregnant and after giving birth you had seen a direct decline in the thickness of your hair and an increase in hair loss, a symptom of postpartum you absolutely detested. Activating the arrival of your baby soon you'd decided to get your hair out of your face, since her favourite pastime of late seemed to be yanking your strands of hair with remarkable strength.

Speaking of postpartum symptoms... since you had started breastfeeding your baby girl, your nipples had gone increasingly sore and sensitive especially at nights. As a preemptive measure you put some nipple cream given to you by a midwife and went along with your out of shower routine slathering on your personal favourite body oil that you'd dispersed into a travel size bottle.

Moving out the bathroom after dressing your put on immediate edge. Despite its size you hear noises coming from the room adjacent to the bathroom you'd just stepped out of—the bedroom you and Enya had been staying in.

Ice hot horror had bleed into every crevice, and every vein in your body. Jack always told you to be wary of going places without security—always fretting over your security and your penchant for leaving unannounced, and now you were paying for it.

In an almost comical defence, you grab the nearest thing in your line of sight: ironically an erotic sculpture ground by a plinth that looked like it weighed a far few. Hands shaking you, grasp the brass handle and quickly turned the nob: trying to look as menacing as possible to an intruder.

But what was behind the door was anything but. There was Bobby, in all his grecian tragedian beauty, holding Enya with his big pilose arms supporting her head like a true natural parent—which you'd hope he was after having enough children to start as sports team.

Both of you looked equally surprised as each other.

"Christ, hun what ever are you doing with that thing?" Bobby says chuckling, while rocking back on the soles of his feet and motioning to the stone sculpture.

"Oh Good Heavens, Bob you nearly gave me a damned heart attack" you say clutching a hand to your chest. To which Bobby shamefully and discreetly looks at your chest—in his defence you were wearing a more than revealing top because you really weren't planing on any visitors.

"Oh I'm sorry, c'mere sweetheart how are you? It's been ages!"

"Bob we spoke over the phone two days ago!"

"Oh, c'mon now you that phone calls don't suffice for either one of us."

Bashfully you smile, but realise Jack has not accompanied Bobby, wondering where he is you ask,

"God Bobby it's good to see you too, tell me where is Jack around? did you tell him that there's stables he's probably there he'd love th-"

Interrupting you Bobby explains, "Sweetheart, he couldn't make it I'm sorry."

A bit embarrassed, you try to play it cool. Noticing your discomfort Bobby gently dislodges Enya from his chest to yours, and it's cheesing to say but the weight of her on your chest salves the wound ever so slightly.

"Bob how did you get her? I thought Alma was watching her?"

"Oh she was but we met down at the chapel and I offered to take Enya—she looked a bit occupied with her own roady children. I didn't want Enya to be forgotten about." he says while stepping closer to you, trailing the back of his hand against her cheek and then moving his eyes to you.

Flustered you take your time analysing him back: dressed in a rolled up button up white shirt, and khaki coloured slacks. Blushing, Bobby says,

"She seemed pretty sleepy when she was handed to me. Why don't you have some time on your own and I'll watch her for you?"

"Oh please Bobby i've had plenty of 'me' time. Your ramblings would do me good, would take my mind of Jack. Matter of fact I'm starving aren't you?"

"Famished! I tell you a palm beach flight to Portugal is no joke."

"Well that sorts it! we'll take her bassinet and have some food out in the grass."

"Sounds perfect, maybe some champagne. I know you can't drink but you can live vicariously through me!"

Chuckling you nod, and he follows you out of the room.

Moving into the kitchen you start to prepare the snacks. Looking at your bleak options since you haven't gone to the market you decide on hors d'oeuvres chicly displayed on a walnut cutting board gifted to you by a baroness. Gathering the necessaries: crisp bread, casalingo salami, foie gras parfait, chicken liver paté, and finally a bottle of pierre mignon for your beloved Bobby.

Delicately balancing the board with one hand, and the bottle in the crevice of your arm, you glance back into the bedroom with Bobby and Enya. Despite your unintentional eavesdropping you hear Bobby rocking Enya to sleep,

"You are so lucky to have your mom, huh? She's the best mom anyone could ask for don't you think?"

The comments warm your heart but you're unable to dissect that feeling as Bobby steps out of the room moments later and like a gentleman: immediately steps to take the bottle of wine and board from your hands.

And one thing leads to another, the hours pass, and by 10 pm you both felt drunk—and probably look it to any outsiders passing by. Despite not drinking a single drop you feel utterly intoxicated by his very presence.

Luckily, Enya had been picked up by Alma to be watched for the night after she'd landed upon you two in the grass: with Bobby's head in your lap, giggles emitting from the both of you.

As the night drew on you'd gotten immeasurably close physically, simply tripping over yourselves trying to catch each other up on both of your lives when you weren't with each other. Bobby being Jack's brother meant that a great portion of your life was spent next to Bobby, and even going a few days apart felt like a whole year for the both of you. Possibly a little co-dependent considering you both had parents but you both didn't want to question it to hard—the papers did enough of that themselves, always questioning your friendship or rather the existence of something more.

Once you two had sufficiently caught each other up on your respective lives, the conversation turned more soft and touchy. Bobby was extremely tactile when tipsy. You and Bobby had kissed a couple of times over the years but you'd never gone the distance, always stopping yourselves.

However this time neither of you wanted to stop, in a haste Bobby motions to take off your top, that was until Bobby's soft caresses of your body reminded you of the insecurities plaguing you for the last 9 months.

Feeling you freeze up Bobby, worried that he'd done something wrong, asks if you're feeling okay,

To which you reply, "It's nothing on you Bob, it's just that ever since Enya I'm so different to how I was. Now i'm sore and I ache all the time, and I feel so damn unloveable."

"Oh Hun, you're nothing of the sort. I see, before me, a woman not only worthy of love but of worship. Let me worship you, please I promise it'll be-"

Captivated, you nod almost immediately but cringe as you release you hadn't had time to wipe off the nipple cream you'd lathered on hours before.

Once your breasts are revealed to him you can't bear to look from embarrassment expecting him to recoil, but he doesn't in fact—your worries are bulldozed by the fervid pleasure of his mouth of your bud, sucking delicately for your pleasure and your pleasure only.

Taking his warm mouth of your bud for just a second Bobby says with batted breath,

"Take a deep breath, baby, C'mon"

Overcome, you arch your back like a Persian kitten. Your nails scrambling, and tearing into the soft grass: your moans turning into soft, delightful screams.

Overcome with gratitude and deference to Bobby you scream out, so loud that you're not entirely sure that Alma can't hear you,

"Baby, baby, baby, I'm-i'm your man"

Who knew you could cum from that? Certainly not you, that's for sure but alas you did.

You take several minutes to come out of it, to which he just cradles you brushing a few short strands of hair, dotting kisses along the concave of your breasts.

As if to give back you raise a hand to his chin, and engulf him in a sweet kiss, nothing reminiscent of dominate coming from either side: just tenderness.

"Oh I can taste champagne on your lips, Bobby!"

"Y'know I do have an idea on how to get rid of that taste" to which Bobby dramatically lays you on the ground and gets down to business on his hands and knees, fingering and teasing your mound: warm and inviting.

By the whole end of the ordeal you've had 5 orgasms and made enough noise to rival the neighbouring cats and dogs screeches and barks.

All the nipple butter has been removed from your breasts and is now squarely strewn around on Bobby's face and lips—they do say lanolin is a good moisturiser for the lips...

[doo-wop-city]

Neon Lights 1: North Wildwood

Most of our visits to Doo Wop City are during the daytime, but the neon lights only come out at night. This is the first in a series of posts featuring the town’s glowing lights. We commence in North Wildwood. Our adventure begins just off Surf Avenue in North Wildwood, at Ivanhoe. This is the first instance of the extravagance that awaits us. Adjacent to Ivanhoe is the extremely Googie…

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Song carried on breeze

(Part 1)

Azriel x OC

Word count: +2300

Summary: It's spring and Azriel is enjoying his day off when he finds out that the famous pianist is coming to his city and of course, he can't miss the opportunity to hear her

Warnings: none

@azrielappreciationweek Day 4: Paid time off Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Part 2

Azriel was on a walk, seemingly aimlessly strolling the streets of Velaris. It was rare for him to have a day off, so naturally he wanted to get the best out of it. And he wasn't the only one. There were dozens of people passing the streets, enjoying the day and temptations that different shops offered to attract potential customers. All windows of the stores were beautifully decorated, smell of delicious meals, coffee and different teas was mixing with the expensive perfumes.

The weather was beautiful and warm, the air was filled with the sweet scent of spring flowers. From above, the city looked like floating on fluffy clouds of whites and pinks, all trees were in full bloom. That was one of his most favourite views, but there was something Azriel liked even more - a walk under those trees. He liked to touch those delicate flowers, their texture so different from the rough, scarred skin of his hands.

Azriel already visited three different parks and currently he was on his way to another one that he glimpsed down the street. This avenue wasn't so overcrowded and he could stretch his wings out little bit, sunbathing the sensitive membranes in warm rays. As he walked at slow pace towards his goal, a group of faeries gathered around the information board caught his attention. He wasn't in hurry, so he calmly waited for them to leave and only then he stepped closer. His gaze fell to the biggest poster, freshly hung out.

Allison, The Magnificent Pianist

Reading the title his eyes widened. It wasn't the first time he heard that name. Allison was famous at all Courts, her talent being legendary. Everyone who witnessed her play, claimed it to be the best performance they ever heard, the music so beautiful that they cried. Azriel longed to hear her piano, but until now he never got the chance. This was her very first performance at Night Court and he was determined not to miss it out no matter what.

Forgetting all about the flowers momentarily, Azriel dashed to the sky, rushing to buy the ticket for the best seat before it would be sold out. Thanks to his wings he arrived as the first to the theatre, immediately running directly to the ticket office. With his connections and thanks to his regular visits, they let him in before the opening hours, welcoming him kindly. Shadowsinger was their best customer after all. No wonder. Azriel loved music and didn't miss a single performance whether it was just concert, ballet or musical. They even went so far as already reserving him his usual preferred seat. Smiling happily with a ticket in hand he walked out the theatre gates, the row of waiting faeries already creating on the street. Allison was really popular.

Already fully satisfied with the outcome of the day, he headed back to the city, aimlessly wandering the streets and exploring new gardens and parks he found along the road.

"So you want a day off on 21st?" Rhysand asked him this question at least million times in last hour.

Azriel was sitting in High Lord's study with hands crossed on his chest, shadows swirling around his broad shoulders. He came to report results of his latest mission and to get new orders. He decided to take advantage of the situation and asked his brother for the day off. He just rarely did so, mostly he had to be ordered to stay home, so no wonder it picked Rhysand's interest.

Azriel rolled his eyes and gave him the same answer as before. "Yes, I do."

"Is there something special about that day?" Rhysand pried curiously, grinning. He was seated behind his desk, elegant as usual in black shirt and pants all tailor made, leaning over it eagerly. The talons of his power brushed over the shields of Azriel's mind, gently asking for access that he wasn't granted this time.

Azriel didn't want company for the event. He just wanted to fully enjoy the experience. If he invited Rhys and Feyre, they for sure wouldn't bother him, at least not aloud. They were capable of being quiet, but only on the outside. Inside they would lead dialogues mind to mind that usually turned into insufferable experience for everyone around them. Azriel even didn't want to think about the topics they could possibly discuss like that. Their scents were enough to assure him that he didn't need to know it.

For a moment he considered inviting Nesta who loved music just as much as he did and he wouldn't mind at slightest if she was there. It could be actually even more enjoyable memory as they were very close friends. But being mated with Cassian meant that the mentioned one would most likely want to go with her and Azriel knew very well how that would end up. Last time Cassian went to the theatre, he snored so loudly that the concert of classic music was interrupted because players couldn't concentrate and he was kicked out.

"No, there's nothing special about the day. I just have something," he calmly answered to Rhysand.

"Something," Rhys hummed. "And what that something is? Do you have a date?"

Azriel knew that if he didn't give him something, he wouldn't stop, so he said the first thing that came to his mind. "I have a health check."

"Is that so? Then I should ask Madja to be thorough. I want the best for my brother," Rhysand was testing him as if he didn't know that such tricks never worked on Spymaster.

"I have a bit different kind of the health check. Lately I feel tension in the shoulders and it's starting to affect even my work, so I made appointment with physical therapist who has experience with wings. Hopefully, he can fix it." That wasn't lie. He really had an appointment with a physical therapist from the Day Court, just on different day.

Rhysand's brows knitted together with worry. "Oh.. Are you sure you don't want the leave until then? I wouldn't like you to get hurt somewhere in the Autumn Court or on continent."

"I'll be fine. I know my limits and won't risk," Azriel promised just to get over with this topic. Even thought Rhysand was the one with daemati powers, Azriel knew him enough well to know what to say to calm him down.

Rhysand thought it over while eyeing his brother with concern. "Well then, as you wish. So 21st then. One insane risk and I'll put you on ban," he threatened him.

Azriel only raised a brow, nodded and glad that it was finally over, left.

Azriel was so excited that on the day of the concert he woke up long before the sunrise and because he couldn't stay still, he headed to the training ring that no one used at this hour. After few hours of punching and muscle training, he returned to his room to take shower.

The concert was due to start in the afternoon, but because of his small lie, he had to pretend to leave the city and stay away from his family and any of their friends and acquaintances. It was quite easy for him as the spymaster.

In the afternoon, dressed in his best suit, Azriel landed in front of the theatre and quickly headed in, taking seat in his favourite box with the best acoustics from where he had good view of the whole stage. The heavy velvet curtain with gold hem was closed, he was one of the very first in the hall. He retreated into the shadows of box, watching as the auditorium slowly filled up. When everyone was finally seated, the lights turned off, the curtain lifted and revealed a podium with a piano made of crystal in the middle. With bated breath and throbbing heart Azriel leaned forward, waiting.

Several minutes later, a petite figure separated from the shadows behind the scenes. An angel-like female with veil of long light hair and porcelain skin with round, shiny blue eyes and full red lips slowly walked over to the piano, the crystal slippers clicked on wooden floor. She stopped in front of it and bowed, long silver dress pooling around her feet. She didn't have to but she introduced herself, thanking everyone for coming.

Azriel forgot how to breath at sight of someone so beautiful and fragile. If he was the embodiment of darkness, then she was his complete opposite. The unspeakable power and light radiated from her, attracting him. He wanted to bask in her gentle light, let it chase away all the darkness that followed him day and night.

Allison sat down, readying her hands with long but tiny fingers. The first soft tones filled the auditorium and at that moment Azriel got lost. The world around him was erased from its existence and there was only Azriel, Allison, the crystal piano and the beautiful tunes that danced on a breeze around them.

Allison started with the softest and the lightest compositions, the music graduating with every new one. Azriel wasn't sure how she did it, maybe it was her power that during every composition made him see different scenery. From the deepest depths of ocean she carried him high above the tallest mountains to the sweetest heaven, caressing all his senses and by the time the last tone faded away, Azriel was crying like a baby. That's how amazing experience it was.

He didn't quite believe all the praises he heard about her, but now he understood. Her music exceeded all his expectations, smashed them into pieces. Even if he lived for ten thousands years, there wouldn't be the music better that what he had just heard. His heart sang in his chest like a nightingale, trembling. He decided that he would visit her to personally give her his gratitude for this unearthly experience.

But first of all, he needed to put himself together and learn how to move his limbs. He sat there, baffled, all kinds of emotions swirling in him until all the lights turned off. He didn't even notice that everyone had already left, leaving him alone sitting in the darkness. Scared she left, too, he scrambled to his feet and on silent steps headed to the backstage dressing rooms. He prayed she was still there and fortunately, the Mother was enough merciful to grant him his wish.

Allison was already on her way to the exit when he arrived.

"Please, wait," he called after her before he could think it over.

She turned to him, eyes wide with fear. She looked around and when she found nobody else nearby, she paled, pressing her back against the wall. Azriel stopped several steps from her, keeping an appropriate distance.

"I'm so sorry for scaring you," he raised his hands, smiling nervously like a youngling first time speaking with his love interest. "I mean no harm, I swear. I won't put a single finger on you.. Well, only if you'd want it."

She blinked, confused, but her lips slowly spread into a small smile.

"I'm Azriel and I kind of work for the High Lord of this Court," he put a hand on his chest and slightly bowed. "I heard rumours about your music and when I saw the poster about your performance in my city, I had to hear you. I just wanted to tell you.. Your music is marvellous and astonishing! I've never heard something so beautiful in my entire life. I want to thank you for this unforgettable experience and I really hope that I will have the pleasure of hearing you play again sometime."

Allison chuckled softly, hiding her smile in palm of hand. "Kind of work for the High Lord? What exactly does it mean if I can ask?"

He rubbed the nape of his neck, his cheeks tinted with pink. "He is like my brother, we grew up together. So he isn't my real employer. I'm just helping him out with the protection of this Court."

"So you are the part of the famous Inner Circle, aren't you?"

He nodded and she finally relaxed, sighing with relief. "You should have said so right away. You really scared me. I thought that you are some fanatic fan who broke in. Even though I'm very grateful for all the love and support I'm getting, some fans are really scary."

"Oh, I apologise. I had no idea such things are happening. If you need an escort to get safely to the hotel.. and you don't mind.. I could do that."

She looked him up and down and then hesitantly nodded. "I'd be very grateful, if you could help me out. Of course, only if you have time."

Allison was staying at hotel in the center of the city, so it wasn't so far from the theatre. They spent the short journey talking about different stuff and Azriel learnt a bit more about her. She seemed to be interested in the city and since she was supposed to stay for few more days, Azriel decided he would try to invite her out. It didn't have to be a date necessarily - even a friendly tour of the city was enough for him.

Stopping in front of the hotel entrance she turned to him, craning her neck to look into his eyes. "Thank you so much for coming to my concert, Azriel, and also for walking me back to hotel. I'm really glad that I could get to know you." She was smiling softly, swaying her skirt playfully, but she wasn't in hurry to part the ways with him.

"Allison, if you would like.. I'd like to show you around the city. I don't mean anything perverse by that, just.."

"I'd love it!" she interrupted him with a bright, big smile. "When could we meet again?"

"If you don't have anything important, how about tomorrow after the lunch? There's a lot to see, so I need to think it over a bit and select the best places to visit."

"That's perfect! So tomorrow, Azriel," she waved him as she backed to the hotel, watching him with interest, eyes shining. "I'm looking forward to meeting you." With that she disappeared in the building.

That day nothing could wipe the smile from Azriel's face.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

The end of the six-day work week and the fight against genocide mark the Black Consciousness March in São Paulo

The 21st edition marched from Paulista Ave to the Municipal Theater; organizations celebrated it as a national holiday

Under the motto, “Palmares stands tall, and racism falls. Zumbi and Dandara live in us!” demonstrators walked from Paulista Avenue to the Municipal Theater in central São Paulo during the 21st Black Consciousness March on Wednesday (20). Support for the Proposed Amendment to the Constitution that ends the six-day work week, authored by federal deputy Erika Hilton, was the highlight of the march, which also demanded an end to Black genocide in Brazil and celebrated November 20 as a national holiday for the first time. 

In addition to Erika Hilton, other parliamentarians were present at the march, including state deputy Ediane Maria, the first domestic worker elected to Legislative Assembly. Maria pointed out that her fellow workers are still "locked up in family homes." "Overturning the six-day work week schedule is fighting for dignity," she said, arguing how this would benefit the category to which she belongs. 

Elected as a counselor in São Paulo, Amanda Paschoal also highlighted the need to end the current working hours provided for by the Brazilian laws for the benefit of the Black population. "This exploitative schedule needs to end. We will remain articulate, quilombos [community formed by enslaved people who escaped their enslavers], occupying the streets, Parliament, and all spaces of power to guarantee the bright future the Black community deserves." 

Continue reading.

[scopophilic1997]

scopOphilic_documentary_108 - scopOphilic1997 presents a new micro-messaging series: small, subtle, and often unintentional messages we send and receive verbally and non-verbally.

Memories of places in the past (former gay-lgbtq+ bars/clubs) (L-R, T-B): Crow Bar (East 10th Street - East Village), Pyramid Club (Avenue A - East Village), Danceteria (West 21st Street - Photo District/Chelsea), & Limelight/Chapel Entrance (West 20th Street - Photo District/Chelsea)

These posters were all over the Lower East Side for many years in the 1980s/1990s when Dean Johnson's Rock 'N' Roll Fag Bar was happening at The World, The Pyramid Club, and other venues later on. Dean also did the door at the Limelight (Chapel entrance) for some wild parties with Michael Alig & the Club Kids. Dean also had two great bands: Dean and the Weenies and the Velvet Mafia. Dean was the ultimate showman at whatever he did. Sadly, Dean was murdered in Washington DC in 2007.

(Both posters are part of my collection. The photo one was cut off a wall around 1987. The illustration was given to me by a close friend of Deans.)