#british tv is on another level

[mmkayokay]

Watching broadchurch to fill the david tennant shaped hole in my heart except it's actually really good

Plus david tennant in glasses cmon

[jeanbie]

SWEET UNWIND ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampies, foodplay, grumpy & sunshine, fem!reader, piv sex, silent sex (little dialogue) | wc: 6.1k

note: proudly inspired by the insatiable thoughts i had while watching charles bake his cake and kill people in "the brothers sun". also i got cheated on and felt horny, so turned to my favourite cartoon man for relief

⏤ When Levi's not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he's found that baking desserts is an excellent way to unwind. Yesterday, he made a beautifully sweet strawberry drizzled cake with cream. On today's menu, his personal favourite: cream pie.

Gangnam, Seoul; five to midnight, the city turning in for the night as bold and bright lights flicker to life, the streets lined with neon glows that on the waterfront look like blurry fireworks. While constant lines of traffic come and go, honking and revving at the lights as they hurry to wherever they need to be next, Levi switches off the egg-timer that blares to life loudly and sets it down on the kitchen island.

Behind him, baking in the oven with a warm and golden glow, is the sponge for his lemon drizzle cake. He glances up at the TV screen across the room and watches as one of the contestants drizzles extra veins of lemon curd across a wide canvas of white meringue cream, then looks back at his own display of ingredients. 

First, he heads to the oven and using the oven glove, he pulls down the door and extracts his top sponge layer. Immediately, Levi sets it aside to cool — too hot and the dollop of cream that will spread into his smooth centre will melt and dribble off like water. 

When Levi’s not working, he likes to take things slow, and as of late, he’s found that making desserts is an excellent way to unwind. It’s a simple step-by-step process where the final product produces something he can feel proud of, and something he can enjoy with a cup of tea or even something stronger.

He’s found over the last three years or so of baking that a hard liquor blends well with cheesecake, one with crumbled biscuits as a garnishing layer. Bailey’s accents any type of chocolate dessert almost too perfectly, and even does well inside of one. Last Christmas, for example, Levi enjoyed a whole chocolate truffle infused with the alcohol all to himself.

Baking takes a level of concentration that actually requires very little of him, and being able to see something he’s made all on his own at the end of it all can often be more rewarding than the stakes in the real world, outside of his entirely too fancy penthouse apartment. His job is often too demanding, too vicious, but coming home with a bag of ingredients that will eventually transform into something beautifully delicious feels like he’s turning a switch and stepping out of one life into another. 

Outside, out there in the harsh city, Levi Ackerman is a force to be reckoned with, a danger to those outside of his inner circle. But here, inside his home, his fortress, he doesn’t have to be anybody but himself — Levi Ackerman, the man, the neighbour, the dessert enthusiast.

Now that the sponge has cooled and the decorations have been sliced and prepared, Levi takes to assembling his own version of the British Bake Off lemon drizzle cake. Instead of it being baked as a tray bake, Levi’s followed the same style as Mary Berry herself; circular, smooth and comfortably petite.

He takes the cream he prepared before and slaps it with a wet plop on the bottom layer of sponge, smoothing it out with the flat-knife until he’s satisfied with the coverage. Then, he uses a spiral technique to create a lemony blend to bite into.

He spares a single glance at the swirling iron staircase leading up to the upper floor of his apartment when he hears movement, a simple and quiet rustle of sheets and an equally low-volume groan — a stretch of some kind. Then, he looks back at his cake and sets the top sponge over the finalised inner workings of his cake and gets to work on the pipework and decorations.

It is so easy for him to get lost in the craft. One minute rolls into five and rolls into ten as he perfects the lemon slice arrangement on top of the cake. He even prepared some lemon gratings beforehand and uses them as a powdery layer on top of the smoothed out blanket of cream. Once everything is in place, Levi looks back up at the TV and watches the contestants present their final results to the judges. 

Back and forth — his eyes move from their cakes to his. He thinks his cake would have earned him Star Baker that week, that’s for certain.

Even though Levi chooses to bake after work to dispel the tension building up in his bones, he still doesn’t feel completely satisfied with his work today. The cake is as good as he can get, especially when it’s his first real attempt at a lemon drizzle. But an ache lingers in his shoulders, a buzzing feeling of discomfort in every joint and muscle. 

Today has just been extra hard. One dessert won’t suffice.

After a long haul of tracking down one of the leaders of a local crime organisation known as the Hannam Tigers, and successfully putting a few of his henchmen in early graves, Levi knows that one small cake won’t be enough to satiate his irritation for the night. In his line of work, things went wrong sometimes, even when they were annoyances he could do without. 

The Hannam Tigers operate in a network of highly trained men with highly decorated backgrounds, and even with Levi’s colourful skillset, it can be a challenge to rid them from the world. 

Levi rinses his hands under the tap and uses a cloth to dry them, catching the final portion of the competition on TV before tossing the cloth to the side and dumping his utensils into the sink. For now, he focuses his attention on the assortment of ingredients he’s set to the side to make his all time favourite dessert.

But first, he’ll need to head upstairs.

With what he needs in his hands, Levi escapes the kitchen before it swallows him into creating more and more desserts and then climbs the staircase curling up into the upper floor. Up here, there is a study that he barely uses — not because of his incompetence to utilise it, but instead for a general lack of need, considering he prefers a much more physical and hands-on approach to what he sensitively calls his ‘career’ — a small bathroom and his bedroom, which he heads for and catches a glimpse of the glistening city from the window inside, the door ajar.

Inside, he takes a few steps forward and sets his things down, looking up to make out your shape in the swamp of black bedsheets. He can barely see you in the dark, but you groan and make your presence known, sitting up on your elbows to peer at his silhouette cast by the light from the hallway.

“You finished your cake?” you ask, your voice tired but nonetheless sweet, caring, genuinely curious.

Levi makes out your face in the dim light and waits until his vision settles. Once he sees you more clearly and sees the smile on your face, he nods simply and looks back down at his messy pile of ingredients.

You arch up a little higher to see what he’s looking at.

“Bring any for me?”

Levi doesn’t look up. “No.”

“Rude,” you reply, amused and unable to make out what he’s arranging neatly on the ottoman at the bottom of the bed. “I happen to like lemon drizzle.”

He knows. That’s why he picked that episode to watch, those ingredients at the store. 

“I don’t,” he replies. Levi’s not a fan of lemon anything, really. 

The door behind him creaks ever so slightly, the light widening across the room. You sit up straighter, watching him as he falls into a carefully analysed breakdown of his mystery items.

“Can I have some later?” you ask, filling the silence with conversation. If you strain, you might make out the next episode of Bake Off beginning to play, but you search for Levi’s signature noises instead; his silent yet attentive laughs from his nose, the grunts under his breath, unbothered hums of his attention and or interest. 

Levi looks up then, and rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt. His blazer is downstairs hanging off one of the bar stools under the kitchen island, his shoes by the door. Now, he’s just dressed in whatever he came home wearing — there hadn’t been time to change, what with you slumbering like a princess in his bedroom. 

It’s a good thing he likes you, otherwise the lights would have been on and his work clothes off. Instead, he left you to it, heading for the kitchen when he came home and switching on his complimentary British Bake Off episode to accompany him in his regular routine of baking.

“I only made it for you,” he tells you. 

You arch an eyebrow — not that he can see, anyway. “Oh, really?”

He gives you a hum, thoughtless. You rearrange yourself under the sheets.

“I thought the whole point was to eat the dessert yourself after making it,” you say, filling the quiet moment with something as he skims his gaze over the ottoman again. 

He doesn’t look up when he says, “Well, I haven’t finished baking yet.”

“Oh?” you reply. “Something else cooking?”

“Yes,” he says. Then, he rounds the bed slightly from the right and whilst looking at you, he climbs up onto the bed with his knees. 

“What’re you making?” you question, a grin widening over your face as he looms near. You feel his hand just miss your leg under the sheets as he lays his hands flat on the bed, lifting his weight closer to you all whilst maintaining an unnaturally cool composure.

If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he was bored by the entire exchange. His face is covered in shadows, and yet you can still see the slipping shift of something in his eyes as they catch in the light from the windows. 

Levi’s face reanimates in the city lights, now not far from your own. He curls his fingers around the bedsheet and tugs it down, exposing your legs to the cool shift of temperature in the bedroom. You shudder, leaning your head back until it softly hits the wooden headboard. 

“Pie,” Levi says.

“Mmm. I love pie,” you comment. 

He grunts, another one of your favourite Levi-sounds.

His hand shifts from the bed to your leg. In the dark, everything feels more pronounced; his ever-so-slightly rough palm smooths across your thigh and down your leg, past the knee and down towards your ankle. Once caught in his grasp, he manages to pull you from your sloped position against the headboard and back down into the pillows. He knows you're wearing nothing else from the waist down — all the more reason to tug you down and snatch a glimpse of what he knows is his.

“What kinda pie?”

Levi finds your eyes again in the dark, and you’re not sure if he planned it, but now you can see his face in a spectrum of light. His expression is flat, toneless, yet intrigue dances across his eyes as they wander across your face, down past your neck, and down to the exposed skin of your chest from underneath one of Levi’s shirts you stole from his drawers.

He says nothing for a moment. Using both hands and releasing your ankle, Levi presses his hands against your abdomen, running them up underneath the shirt until he reaches your sternum, the sloping sphere of your breasts against his fingertips. His eyes flick up to yours as he pushes the shirt all the way up over your breasts, and uses his body to part your legs until your knees are on either side of his hips.

The weight of his gaze makes you squirm slightly. 

He blinks. Licks his bottom lip so quickly you almost miss it and says very simply, “Cream.”

Your grin widens.

Levi lowers his face to your stomach, his lips pressing against the skin above your belly button. Immediately, as if practised, your hands jump up to his head of hair, your fingers threading through it as he works his mouth down from your stomach to the damp space between your legs.

A home within a home; a place he loves to push his face into when he’s had a particularly long day.

Levi doesn’t even have to put in any effort anymore. You quite contently lift your calves up over his shoulders, widening them enough to feel his lips circle around your clit, two fingers widening your folds so he can stuff his face with your cunt.

Coating your clit with a layer of wetness, he replaces his lips with his right thumb and moves his fingers, using his tongue to part you down the middle, and making you writhe against the bed with a satisfied moan. 

He’ll admit it to nobody but himself — he’s missed you. You’ve missed him, too, and the way it feels when he rubs his thumb against your nub in careful circles and plunges two fingers up your cunt. Levi could fool himself all he liked with the fantasy that baking a cake was enough to relieve his pent up stress from work, but nothing quite works to ease the burden like a face full of his favourite girls’ pussy.

Levi’s left hand drifts from your stomach to your thigh, smoothing over the top before curving down and round to the inner of your legs, his forearm wrapped around you comfortably and effectively locking you in place. He likes to watch the wetness pool between your legs as he gorges himself on your taste, but today he closes his eyes and closes his lips around you, tasting every inch of you like you’re his own slice of dessert, his favourite kind. Topped and served with a string of elated moans, just the way he likes it best.

“Mmf—!” There’s not a lot for you to say, nothing you can conjure up from the air gasping in your throat as Levi’s tongue licks laps around your clit, his thumb just shy to the side as he leaves a wet present for him to massage into your skin, his mouth very quickly preoccupied by the space neglected beneath. 

As his fingers curl up inside of you, then widen apart, your calves drop as if you’re trying to pull Levi closer to your body, and in turn he pushes his left arm down on your thigh and drags you with a smooth motion down the bedsheets and closer to his mouth. Your head arches back with the angled slope of your back, reaching up off the mattress in a coordinated performance of pleasure, and Levi finds the time to open his eyes and look up over your stomach and breasts to find your face; mouth agape and lids closed, gasping silently into the dark. 

Yeah. Out of all the desserts he could possibly create in his kitchen, he’d probably have to confess that his favourite one was one that could be made in the bedroom. 

Your hands take fistfuls of his hair and feeling the hot flatness of his tongue in the space between your clenching hole and your clit, you find your hips grinding up into his mouth, the slight nudge of his teeth making you squirm even harder beneath him. Levi’s no longer phased by the aching tightness of your fingers woven in a knot on his head. Whenever your fingers twitch and the clutch on his hair tightens, Levi knows he’s doing something right.

Every lick and nip against your cunt is matched by a groan, and as you ride the dampness between your legs against his lips, your voice thins out into a raspy nothingness. Your mouth is dry with the air of the bedroom, your eyes forcing themselves to close when they try and open to peer down at the man snug between your thighs. 

Levi feels a mixture of wet substances around his mouth and on his chin, but before he can grant you the pleasure of cumming down his throat, he pulls back.

The emptiness of the space between your legs is jarring, and almost immediately you sit up. Your hands drop from his hair and fall onto the bed, which you use to lift up your shaking body to watch as Levi leans back on his knees and retreats to the forgotten ottoman. It is only when he rises to his feet to observe the array of secret items displayed for his eyes only that you realise Levi is still wearing every article of clothing he was before. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask him, finally finding your voice as he arches over and fiddles with something that sounds plastic.

You catch the shine of your own arousal on his chin as he scans the catalogue of items.

“Preparing dessert,” he replies.

Your brows quirk, but when Levi stands upright and begins to shake something with his left hand, you feel your heart and its fast beating plunge straight to your stomach. A knot wells and tightens, and you bite a moan back and feel your thighs coming together like a magnet in anticipation.

Levi is shaking a bottle of whipped cream.

It shouldn’t surprise you nor excite you the way that it does. Levi has always had reservations about whipped cream — it should be from a bottle or made in a bowl; exclusively used as a side for a tart or cake slice, as a topping on a pancake, as the twist of sweetness on top of a hot chocolate. Levi doesn’t use whipped cream on his desserts in the same way he does as an accessory to the bake, but today — tonight, it seems as though he has found another valuable use for his generally unused bottle of whipped cream.

“This is new,” you say, feeling your ass lift off the bed as you struggle to contain your writhing excitement. Levi tests the nozzle; a burst of white cream spits out onto his finger, and without looking away he puts his finger in his mouth with all the nonchalance of a chef tasting his dish as he makes it. “I thought you didn’t like bottled cream on your desserts.”

“I like it on some things,” he replies. “First rule of baking is that you never feel afraid of trying something new.”

You hum thoughtfully as he retakes his position on the bed. It should make you laugh with the way he looks down at you while slowly twisting the bottle from left to right, but it doesn’t; it only makes you breathe heavier, your pulse quickening and legs opening as if on automatic and letting him take the space he’s claimed between them.

“They do say that it goes well with pies,” you say finally, watching as he angles the nozzle down on your stomach. The placement, if nothing else, has surprised you, and you suppress a moan of eagerness when he presses down and watches with a newfound intensity as the spiral of white cream pools out onto your skin. He’s cautious with the amount; just a small bud of cream, enough to swallow in just a mouthful.

Levi leans himself forward and pauses just before he can lick the dollop up off your tummy. 

“Clue’s in the name,” Levi replies, and with his eyes boring into your own, he presses his lips around the blob of cream and mouths it up off your body. It is entirely too fast, your jaw slacken as he pulls away, as if gauging your reaction. The yearning expression on your face has the nerve to almost look endearing to him.

He swallows. “Sweet.”

He receives from you something sounding like a whimper. Then, his finger is back on the nozzle and using the cream, he creates a trail from where he last was all the way down to your clit. 

You feel yourself clench when the cool texture of the cream sits in a melting bundle on your bud, and your teeth bury themselves into the flesh of your lower lip, biting down with extra force when Levi’s mouth shifts down to your clit and in one teasingly slow strip, he licks the trail of sweet cream up from your cunt to the wet spot on your stomach.

With his tongue, your back arches up off the bed, your knees by his shoulders. Levi is uncomfortably aware of the pooling arousal between your legs, his own forming tightness in his trousers. Watching you writhe with a glistening shine getting more and more pronounced so close to his face has proven to be exactly what he needed to unwind today, but he’s still not quite satisfied.

He’s not ignorant to the way your hips meet with the empty space he leaves when he moves away again, as if fucking an imaginary cock or grinding against an invisible set of hips. He uses his right hand to press you back flat against the bed and savours every second of your aroused moaning when he slathers your cunt with the cream, leaving no wet patch untouched. 

He watches with only minimal irritation when the cream slips down your folds into a white pool on the sheets — his sheets — but he takes its sliding as a sign to move back in. 

Levi licks the cream up as if it isn’t even there; it’s as if he’s taking gulps of you like it’s nothing, licking every inch of the cream and enjoying the wonders of your pleasure as you cry out above him. His nose brushes against the hidden bump of your clit, the feeling of his hot tongue making your toes curl behind his back, your fingers clenching around the sheets.

Ordinarily, you may have laughed at the sight of his lips coated in a white sheen, the cream on the tip of his nose, but today you can find nothing to laugh about. Every unit of energy is devoted to the tightening clench of your cunt, the tingling warmth growing inside of you as Levi wipes his nose and rises off the bed and onto his feet, right where the ottoman stands as a barrier between you.

He lets you play out your imaginary fantasy, rolling your hips into the empty vacuum of space where he was just situated and uses his hands to undo the belt around his waist. His trousers fall with an effortlessness when he undoes the front button, and he compels himself to watch you stare at him with a lustful gaze as he pulls his trousers down to his ankles. He decides he’ll keep his shirt on — it’s only fair, since you’re still wearing his, albeit the fabric is bunched up under your neck in the way he likes it.

He mounts the bed once again and meets you when you moan expectantly, and relishes in the sharp intake of your breath when he takes your right leg and folds it to the side. You look at Levi over your shoulder, your neck to the side as he presses you down with his left hand and uses the right to hold his cock.

You are once again reminded of how truly lucky you are to have a man like Levi; a man who needs nothing but your cunt in his face to get his cock standing rigid against his lower stomach.

You swallow a moan when Levi pokes the tip of his cock against your fluttering entrance, and when his eyes catch yours, the sharpened edge of his grey eyes staring straight into your own, you can’t catch the cry of pleasure that escapes when he pushes himself into you, feeling you wrap around the tip of him like your cunt is a mouth on its own.

Levi watches you gasp as if pained and he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up. You’re wet enough,” he says in a low tone.

“Hmf—!” And then the length of his cock is buried inside of you, only proving his point.

There’s nothing to explain the way it feels when he’s stuffing your hole: it’s as if he was made for you, a perfect fit to make you whole. Even with virtually nothing to ease the slip into your pussy, there’s no agonising stretch, no painful play — just a wholeness that feels as natural as anything else in the world.

Levi’s fucked you so many times that he might as well claim he lives up here, and each time he makes himself at home, he’s welcomed with open arms and a swallowing gulp. He pushes his hips all the way against you, until the underneath of your thigh is squished against his stomach and you feel the slight slap of his balls against your ass.

He’s never quite fucked you from this angle before, but it’s not unwelcome in the slightest. He wraps his wrist around your thigh and holds the front of it with his hand, his left coming to hold the sinking curve of your waist, which he uses to push you further into the mattress. 

Every time his dick sinks further inside of you, you let out a moan — he moves in and out so fast it’s as if he’s trying to keep your noise at a constant speed, never wanting to be left in a silence.

Levi looks down at you as he fucks, no longer interested in the way his dick disappears into the dripping darkness of your cunt and instead entirely devoted to mapping out the pleasure on your face. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but everything he loves to see.

His hips rock against you, his shoulders tensing as you clench furiously around his length. Surely you don’t mean to be coaxing him into an early finish — surely you wouldn’t be rushing him along when he’s trying to enjoy his dessert.

The tip of Levi’s dick kisses your insides, but from this angle and the burning heat pooling in your abdomen, you don’t know if he’s hitting your cervix or deeper into your literal stomach. Levi’s fucked you from all different angles in every corner of his house, but he feels extra large today. The darkened edge of his eyes might be deceiving you, the sticky residue of cream still on your skin. 

You’re almost vibrating with pleasure as he fucks you, and all you can do is stay pinned to the bed like a doll and gasp out your praises.

Like most fucks with Levi, he says nothing besides, “Fuck,” in a dragged out, strangled type of way. He likes to make you suffer by dragging it out for as long as humanly possible, just to see you writhe and cry underneath him, your pussy pink and pulsing, begging for him to stop. 

Today, however, luck looks to be on your side. 

Unlike normal, Levi has little desire to unravel you into a sobbing mess. All he wants today is to fuck the brains out of his girlfriend and watch as her cunt fills with his cum.

Levi’s fingers clench into your skin, and for a second he closes his eyes in an effort to ride it out just a little bit longer before filling you up. When he feels your hand wrap around his wrist like a vice, his eyes fly open to look at you; you’re curled up, sunken in the bed, contorted into his favourite shape. 

Levi spares a glance at his cock swallowed up in your hole and watches with pride as he thrusts in and out of the wetness, and after a stuttering sequence of your hips jerking and mouth falling open with the release of some of his all time favourite sounds, Levi devours the sight of white squeezing from around his dick. 

He feels his throat catch. He’ll let you have that one.

Around the quivering clenches of his cock, Levi shudders and lets you squeal until you’ve run dry. He runs his fingers across the width of your connection and smooths the cum between his fingers. Then, without giving you the satisfaction of catching your breath, Levi continues his thrusting which gives him the continued pleasure of hearing you squeal and cry, your free hand reaching to the slip of sloping skin above your pussy as if you were trying to suppress the feeling rippling through you.

Long forgotten are the fingertips pressing bruises into your skin, but each thrust of his dick hitting the same spot inside you is met with an exhausted groan. Finally, when you’ve gathered the energy and courage to look up and around your body at his face, Levi lets slip what you think might be a satisfied smile, and he falters.

Ropes of warmth fill your cunt, and you hear Levi moan, loudly, and he unwraps his wrist from your leg and holds the base of his dick with his right hand. Carefully, he pulls himself out, save for the tip which remains snug in your hole, leaving no space untouched by his seed. He watches with wonder at the way your hole gapes around his cock like a mouth, swallowing his cum up until it billows out. Finally, he slips out of you, staring down at the oozing, swollen hole that is pulsing with cum. 

For a while, he stares at it, breathing loudly as he waits for all of his cum to squirt out of you; it’s like squeezing a cream doughnut and watching the sickeningly sweet contents slide out. 

Levi glances back up at you, amazed that you’ve been bold enough to watch him until the end, and he pats your waist appreciatively before rolling you back so that you’re flat on the sheets, legs apart, cunt wide.

Time to taste.

You watch as his head disappears between your legs, but he leaves no element of mystery. Your body almost jumps up off the mattress when his tongue pushes into your gaping entrance, lapping at the mixture of your cum and his and whatever else he can catch a taste of while he’s savagely licking down there.

Barely having the energy to pretend to stage a protest, you elect for moaning your approval and tiredly rake your hand through his hair again, pushing it from his forehead as you stare half-lidded at the crown of his head.

You lose count of how long Levi remains nestled down there. The only way you notice he’s no longer there is by the way he sweeps his hands down your legs and lays them flat, making note of every twitch and quiver your body makes.

Staring up at Levi and reluctantly forcing your body back up on your elbows, you grin up at him as he licks his top lip and appears thoughtful.

“Yeah,” sighs Levi, sniffing once in the way he does when he’s trying to fall back into his characteristic charade of coolness. “Homemade cream tastes better.”

Unable to argue, you heave out a laugh and meet his gaze.

“You’re fucking greedy,” you say, but that he actually does smile at. 

“So what,” he replies, reaching for another one of the items on the ottoman; a cloth from downstairs that he uses to wipe the mess between your thighs, “we both know I like cream pies. I even shared.”

You flinch when he dabs the cloth against your still-sensitive pussy. You take it from him to finish the honour, meanwhile Levi gathers the bottle of cream and whatever else he brought and never used before opting to watch you shift the cloth between your legs, throwing it back at him in a forced huff. He catches it effortlessly.

“Whatever,” you say, very slowly moving across the bed to the floor. The wooden slabs are cold beneath your feet. “I’m sure your lemon drizzle is miles better.”

Levi shakes his head affectionately and moves to meet you face-to-face when you stand on your feet. He hums when he gets there and strokes his finger down your arm, charming his way into your arms and once he’s close enough to your face, he allows a smile to warm over his features.

He dips his head to greet your lips with a kiss, the first of the day since he left you in the morning.

“Trust me when I say,” Levi says when he pulls away, his expression amused as he croons his finger under your chin and quickly leaves another kiss on your mouth, “I very much doubt that.”

[gimmickblogcompletionist]

Heyyy, I’ve been doing the same thing as you recently and I thought you might like to see that you’re not the only one out here doing the lords work of cataloging the various gimmick blogs of tumblr.com

Here’s my list so far:

Tumblr gimmickverses

The threatsverse

@fuck-you-ominous-threats

@the-real-list-of-ominous-threats

@backup-ominous-threats

@the-fake-list-of-ominous-threats

@the-list-of-real-ominous-threats

@list-of-lists-of-ominous-threats

@twelfth-list-of-ominous-threats

@another-list-of-ominous-threats

@love-you-ominous-threats

@this-threat-is-ominous

@i-identify-as-an-ominous-threat

@nominous-threats

@autotheist-of-ominous-threats

Signsverse

@ominous-signs

@silly-signs

@hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard

Gimmickthiefverse

@gimmick-thief

@gimmick-thief-thief

@bad-gimmick-thief

@gimmick-thief-thief-thief-thief

@gimmick-thief-theif-thcief

@gimmickthiefthiefthiefthiefthief

@gimmick-remover

@gimmick-thief-burglar

Identifierverse

@fish-identifier

@cat-identifier

@identifying-cars-in-posts

@identifying-horses-in-posts

@identifying-planes-in-posts

@poorly-identifying-cats-in-posts

@identifying-cat-phenotypes

@identifying-cats

@identifying-cellphones-in-posts

@identifying-bees-in-posts

@identifying-guns-in-posts

@identifying-guitars-in-posts

@identifying-gulls-in-posts

@identifying-fonts-in-images

@identifying-the-unseen-in-posts

@dragons-locator

@creatures-in-posts

@certified-piss-posts

@mammalidentifier

@identifying-spacecraft-in-posts

@dog-spotted

@cat-spotted

@i-identify-guns-in-posts

@identifying-dinosaurs-in-posts

@identifying-birds

@identifying-maille-weaves

@identifying-typewriters-in-posts

@mouse-spotted

@snake-spotted

@certified-new-york-posts

@chicago-mentioned

@identifying-snakes-in-posts

@which-os

Detectorverse

@fox-detector

@bear-detector

@detector-detector

@loss-detector

@girl-detector

@orca-detector

@carbon-monoxide-detector

@south-carolina-detector

@corviddetector

@goose-detector

@crab-detector

@gay-detector

@opossum-detector

@bell-detector

@columbiforme-detector

@corvid-detector

@axolotl-detector

@snow-leopard-detector

@bat-detector

@salmon-detector

@detector-detector

@mouse-detector

@cat-detector

@trans-detector

@egg-detector

@shark-detector

@bug-detector

@dino-detector

@crowdetector

@fish-detector

@skid-fit-detector

@therickrolldetector

@crane-detector

@lizard-detector

@i-detect-rickrolls

@pigeon-detector

@bronzong-detector

@text-inverter-detector

@tsunderedetector

@british-alert

Achievementverse

@pointless-achievements

@achievement-unlocked

@randomitemdrop

@dailyquests

@achievement-achievement-unlocked

Officialpostsverse

@official-boob-posts

@official-penis-posts

@bees-official

@knifedealler-official

@teamrocket-official

@youareanidiot-official

@anti-terf-posts

@ofishal-fish-posts

@medici-official

@official-cannibalism-posts

@official-linguistics-post

@official-crab-posts

@official-nature-posts

@officialgrassrating

@official-level-five

@official-olm-posts

@the-equator-official

@milk-the-official

@official-jurassic-park

@french-horn-official

@cute-aggression-official

@deja-vu-official

Brandsverse

@google-officiall

@firefox-unofficial

@mcdonlads-official

@big-mayo-official

@yahooo-official

@the-real-apple-mail

@totally-apple-music

@whataburger-possibly-official

@class-dojo-officially

@100percent-shell-oil

@cvs-pharmacy-real

@truly-jcjenson

@definitely-wikipedia

@k-f-c-official

@totally-scjohnson

@officially-google-translate

@reallytimhortons

@walmart-the-official

@apple-unofficial

@totally-roku-tv

@firesub-houseway-real

@yahooo-official-may-return

@its-target-official

@wikipedia-the-non-official

@the-real-yahoo-mail

@realgoogleclassroom

@realsafari

@duothelingo

@the-real-gmail

@sony-official

@operagxreal

@yes-im-youtube-kids

@the-one-and-only-duckduckgo

@the-real-ecosia

@definitely-quicktrip

@pizza-hut-official

@gb-tesco-official-new

@real-microsoft-outlook

@buildabearfr

@firehouse-subs-fr

@deviantart-official

@totally-ikea

@yandex-search-fr

@official-sainsburys

@definitely-spencers-gifts

@totally-not-kraft-mac-and-cheese

@real-pollo-campero

@the-real-ipsy

@totally-peacock-i-swear

@not-really-discord

@burgerking-official

@obviously-mojang

@pizza-hut-unofficial

@the-one-and-only-duckduckgo

@the-dunkin-of-dunkins

@the-real-gamefreak

@applebees-honestly

@im-pandora-i-promise

@barnes-and-noble-official

@the-real-chipotle

@official-toys-r-us

@sony-official

@basically-bumble

@undeniably-chevron

@speedron

@official-petsmart

@100percent-chipotle

@checkers-official

@biglots-official

@journeys-official

@nutterbutter-official

@starry-unofficial

Governmentverse

@government-agency-bracket

@centers-for-disease-control

@nasa-official

@transit-fag

@the-even-officialer-news

@the-official-news

@ripta-official

@definitely-waste-management

@the-us-navy-official

@royal-canadian-air-force

@localairport

@bureau-of-mental-regulation

Poetryverse

@eggblackoutpoetry

@reallybadblackoutpoems

@shitpost-poetry-official

@i-scan-your-poems

Locationsverse

@maryland-official

@marylandofficial

@maryland-officially

@ohioofficial

@official-northkorea

@officialmexico

@officialunitedstates

@raleigh-nc-official-totally-real

@totally-durham-nc

@chapel-hill-nc-real

@totally-france

@massachusetts-official

@the-state-of-georgia-official

@official-rhode-island

@totally-salisbury-nc

@the-fr-north-carolina-totally

@the-fmby-north-carolina-totally

@rhode-island-real

@literally-the-first-state

@newhampshireofficial

@the-real-illinois

@atlanta-city-official

@0fficial-america

@the-republic-of-california-fr-fr

@state-of-connecticut-official

@westernmassposting

@officially-dorset

@the-ottoman-empire-for-real

@definitely-totally-croatia

@definitely-britain

@new-mexico-official

@france-unofficial

@the-principality-of-sealand

@totally-italy

@france-the-third

@the-official-italy

@official-denmark

@washington-official-2

@denmark-forreal

@denmark-official

@denmarklandia-official

@official-hongkong

@official-ireland

@definitelytherepublicofireland

@forever-scotland

@russia-totallyofficial

@definitely-canada

@germany-official

@totally-germany

@genuinely-germany

@official-new-zealand

@india-official

@yugoslavia-official

@the-official-roman-empire

@guatemala-official

@definitely-brasil

@very-real-australia

@literally-luxembourg

@definitely-totally-croatia

@totally-japan

@therealrepublicofkorea

@pakistan-official

@republic-of-molossia

@the-kingdom-of-norway

@sweden-official

@non-tyrannical-usa

@the-state-of-michigan

@cape-breton-island-itself

@state-of-florida-official

@state-of-conneticut-official

@the-real-illinois

@utah-offical

@mhm-wisconsin

@the-only-ontario

@actually-alberta

@new-york-for-real

@the-province-of-nova-scotia-real

@france-the-third

@officiallybavaria

@totally-china

@yorkshire-official

@real-british-empire

@buffalony-official

@utah-official

@guatemala-official

@the-real-nevada

@a-new-found-land

@official-sc

@new-york-unoficial

@hawaii-offcial

@real-california-republic

@sovereign-state-of-alaska

@washington-official

@saskatchewan-forreal

@definitely-indiana

@soviet-state-of-new-york

@real-chicago

@totally-india

@official-vermont-fr

@mackinac-island-official

@the-nevada

@iceland-the-official

@mid-maryland

Miscellaneous gimmicks

@definitely-not-a-bee

@really-a-vampire

@the-fake-catholic-church

@the-official-goose-god

@randomly-generated-posts-machine

@the-missiles-guy

@the-exploder-anon

@i-just-reblog-stuff-i-hate

@blog-for-water

@hellsitegenetics

@posts-i-saw-on-wikipedia

@dragons-locator

@oldenglishtextposts

@randomalienencounter

@whatcoloristhatcat

@will-it-soup

@snailifier

@post-uwuifier

@yeahokayillreblogthat

@facts-i-just-made-up

@fixing-bad-posts

@probablybadrpgideas

@trochaic-mutant-ninja-tetrameter

@thegimmickblog

@postanagramgenerator

@libraryofbabel-postlocator

@how-many-purples

@how-much-yellow

@not-a-trampoline-daily

@word-problem-posting

@free-post-store

@reading-comp-posting

@post-store

@waterboardingwizard

@the-frightening-ghoul

@time-travel-approval-council

@you-get-water

@official-john-lennon

@the-mojave-desert

@the-sniffer

@sniffer-of-gimmicks

@marryingthewholecorpoverse

@the-everything-remover

@totally-hardcore-tanoc

@rainworld-name-verifier

@post-fishifier

@text-inverter

@ur-fav-hates-columbus

@randomly-generated-posts-machine

@making-you-in-spore

@alienracist

@shakespeare-official-account

@rate-this-color-please

@top-secret-replier

@l-is-t-e-n

@a-literal-rat

@counting-hrt-in-posts

@real-boeing-757

@ratethepost

@hellsite-cat-genetics

@the-assigner-of-gimmicks

@not-a-dark-matter

@has-no-opinions

@singular-ghost-sound

Planetsverse

@herbig-haro-211

@officially-triton

@actually-titan

@real-yucous-ghe

@the-real-planet-x

@the-moon-styx

@the-sol-sun-fr

@the-moon-called-cyst

@official-moon-of-vitreous

@neuro-officially

@vitreous-officially

@official-meibo-ghe

@official-macula

@totally-the-moon-oculus

@blue-marble-earth

@venus-for-real

@saturn-official

@temporarily-moon-two

@diomenia-daughter-of-callisto

@deimos-moon-of-terror

@mercury-the-swift

@totally-callisto

@planet-king-jupiter

@the-great-io

@the-red-planet-mars

@the-ringed-planet-saturn

@the-lovely-planet-earth

@the-speedy-planet-mercury

@the-chill-planet-uranus

@official-planet-pluto

@truly-pluto

@haumea-the-dwarf-planet

@makemake-the-silly-dwarfie

@the-real-eris

@asteroid-belt-resident-ceres

@the-amazing-andromeda-galaxy

@i-am-the-alcyoneus-galaxy

@i-am-the-milky-way-galaxy

@the-serene-moon-luna

@moon-of-fear-phobos

@the-panic-moon-deimos

@pizza-moon-io

@speckled-callisto

@the-radiant-sun

@truly-the-sun

@big-fucking-sagittarius-astar

@totally-the-real-pisces

@aries-official

@andromeda-the-constellation

@offically-taurus

@and-cassiopeia

@orion-in-the-sky

@ursa-minor-probably

@official-draco-constellation

@ursa-major-actually

@the-official-gemini

@im-canis-minor

@literally-leo

@literally-leo-minor

@might-be-capricorn

@yeah-im-scorpio

Antigimmickverse

@anti-royal-canadian-air-force

@water-for-blog

@counter-facts-i-just-made-up

@breaking-fixing-bad-posts

@alphabetuncompletionist

@reading-comp-wrong-answers

@rat-detector-but-evil

@evilorcadetector

@anti-h2o

@gimmick-fixer

Kitty blogs

@kittysmoker

@kittybroker

@kittybrokerrater

Snomverse

@i-am-a-snom

@oshnom

@robosnom

@snomchievement-unlocked

@i-am-protosnom

@rescued-snom

@engineer-snom

@special-agent-snom

@pride-snom

@sneaky-detective-snom

@snom-with-a-nuke

@apocalypse-snom

@wizard-snom

@thief-snom

@shiny-snomblr

@shiny-snom-red-edition

@snomfee-cup

@i-am-a-frosmoth

@eclipse-frosmoth

@space-snom

@ethics-snom

@otherworldly-patron-snom

@momsnom

@snom-with-sweater

@snom-postal-services

@snom-with-a-bomb

@i-am-catboi-snom

@snom-appreciation

@snomba-has-blog

@snomonomicon

@snom-with-a-knife

@snominrandomplaces

@dinosnom

@reborn-apocalypse-snom

@snom-devourer-of-worlds

@snom-in-space

@lawyer-snom

@snom-with-a-bazooka

@ditto-snom

@cowboysnom

@charlesnom

@evil-snom

@snom-propaganda

@snomonado

@snomnom

@snomganda

@snomms

@snom-goodman

Translatorverse

@translatingpostsintodutch

@translatingpostsintofrench

@translatingpostsintogerman

@translatingpoststojapanese

@translatingpostsintoenglish

@itranslatepostsintotokipona

@translatingthingsinfrench

@randomalienencounter-translated

@translatingpoststoesperanto

Letters/ Grammarverse

@t-counter

@a-counter

@voweltally

@e-counter

@contraction-counter

@how-many-letters

@i-add-ampersands-to-posts

@theletterkcompletionist

@the-disemvoweler

Completionistverse

@asciicompletionist

@oedcompletionist

@alphabetcompletionist

@punctuation-completionist

@numberscompletionist

@periodiccompletionist

@wildcard-completionist

Worddetectorverse

@silly-detector

@amongus-text-detector

@bible-word-counter

@in-the-bible

@arethesewordsinhomestuck

@are-these-words-in-thee-bible

@arethesewordsin-thebible

@beatles-lyrics-percent

@arethosewordsinthebible

Painterverse

@the-firey-painter

@the-glitter-painter

@the-icy-painter

@the-purple-painter

@the-blue-painter

@the-red-painter

@painting-red

@the-bazzow-painter

@the-orange-painter

@the-yellow-painter

@the-green-painter

@the-teal-painter

@the-pink-painter

@the-white-painter

@the-gray-painter

@the-rainbow-painter

@the-void-painter

@the-pixel-painter

@the-mystery-painter

@happy-little-painter

@the-not-painter

@the-doodle-painter

@the-bird-painter

@the-pride-painter

@the-mew-painter

@the-weezer-painter

@the-deep-fry-painter

@the-scribbles-painter

@the-sus-painter

@thecroissantpainter

@the-lesbian-painter

@the-pan-painter

@the-aroace-painter

@the-trans-painter

@the-omori-painter

@the-sad-painter

@raidpainter

@the-stormy-painter

@the-howling-painter

@the-bisexual-painter

@the-hoppip-painter

@the-random-painter

@the-high-saturation-painter

@the-collage-painter

@the-inverted-painter

@the-duck-painter

@the-scaly-painter

@the-gumball-painter

@the-chaotic-doodle-painter

@the-pony-painter

@the-agender-painter

@the-gay-painter

@the-ghost-painter

@the-space-painter

@the-xenogender-painter

@the-music-painter

@the-anomaly-painter

@the-rotted-painter

@the-neon-painter

@cipher-painter

@the-mewtwo-painter

Ipostsverse

@i-say-ok

@i-make-things-into-faces

@i-remove-color-from-posts

@i-make-things-content-aware

@i-make-things-explode

@i-make-things-glitched-out

@i-make-things-snakes

@i-make-things-spheres

@i-am-a-fish

@i-give-olms-to-people

@i-give-you-a-fish

@i-respond-with-emoticons

@i-spy-a-blog

@i-doodle-pfp-guys

Ratdetectorverse

@rat-detector

@rat-detector-detector

@rat-detector-detector-detector

@ratdetectordetectordetectordet

@rat-detector-to-the-5th-power

@rat-detector-seven

@ratdetectortheninth

@ratdetector-x11

@rat-detector-twelve

@rat-detector-13

@rat-detector-thirteen

@ratdetector13

@rat-detector-the-14th

@rat-detector-15

@rat-detector-16

@rat-detector-17

@rat-detector-the-18th

@rat-detector-19x

@ratdetector20

@rat-detector-the-21st

@rat-detector-the-22nd

@ratdectector23

@rat-detector-24

@ratdetector25

@25th-rat-detector

@ratdetector-x26

@rat-detector-the-26th

@rat-detector36

@rat-detector-72

@rat-detector-84

@rat-detector-87

@rat-detector-rat-89

@rat-detector-236

@rat-detector-333

@rat-detector-334

@rat-dedecdor

@rat-eliminator

@rat-detectors-detector

@detector-rat

@rat-detector-fail

@the-rat-detector-couple-the-1st

@rat-detector-redacted

Presidentverse

@nixon-official

@patricia-nixon-official

@hoover-fbi

@kissy-kissinger

@froggyroycohn

@jimmydean37

@official-abraham-lincoln

@emobernie

Elvisverse

@elvis-official

@transfem-elvis

@transmasc-elvis

@nonbinary-elvis

@miniature-elvis

@elvispurrsley

@elvis-parsley-official

@ghost-of-elvis-official

@pelvis-presley

@elvis-unofficial

@yelserp-sivle

@evil-elvis-official

@scary-elvis

@emo-presley

@robot-elvis

@snailvis

@haiku-presley-elvis

@sauromon-presley-the-orber

@elvis-hell

@elvis-parsley-chiapet

@mii-elvis

@wizard-presly

@eggvis-preggsley

@catgirl-presley

@italian-elvis-official

@italian-elvis

@elvis-researcher-official

@furina-de-fontelvis

@canadian-elvis

@the-ghost-of-elvis

@barbara-gunnhelvis

@death-elvis-official

@elvis-compressedly

@catboy-presley

@arlecchelvis-official

@phannie-elvis

@gay-elvis

@werewolfelvis

@mouseelvis

@elvis-official-impersonator

@gen-z-elvis

@eagle-elvis

@theelviseater

@girlvis

Is-allverse

@pesto-is-all

@marmite-is-all

@mayo-is-all

The Croakerverse

@the-muppet-joker

@strange-aeons

@mydarlingathena

@lifedoesntdiscriminate

@minuseyes

@cabbagex4

@descimatedcroakernightmares

@gonzobatman1

@gunchhorseman

@bruciemilf

@descimatedpiggydreams

@peachyfuck18

@statleragainstposers

@jimmythebastards-blog

@unmask-strange-aeons

@thestrangemuppetjokerfan111

@trash-panda-anon

@marsha-landlord

Potatoverse

@potato-murderer

@anti-potato

@i-say-potato

@small-potato

@toastedpotatoes

@your-average-potato

@might-be-a-potato

@im-a-potato-lol

Entityverse @eldrich-horror-official @god-official @theholyspirit-official

Blahajverse @the-gulhaj @the-haj @the-blahaj @the-rodhaj @the-gronhaj @rosahaj @the-lilahaj @the-svarthaj @the-rodbrunhaj @the-grahaj @the-rodgulhaj @the-vithaj @the-klapparhaj @the-magentahaj @blalilahaj @demonhaj @thedivineguldhaj @the-rutighaj @the-smahaj @the-djavulsksilverhaj @the-purpurhaj @the-purjolokhaj @the-brunhaj @brunhaj @the-snohaj @the-turkoshaj @svard-haj @ultraviolett-haj @the-attaarmadhaj @the-dinohaj @the-anglahaj @the-leendehaj @the-litenhaj @the-omvandhaj @the-448c-haj @the-jahalh @the-eldritch-skrackhaj @ogiltig-haj @swimhaj @the-ljusgrahaj @spelutvecklare-haj @the-sonicjah @the-v1haj @cardboard-haj @the-hajhaj @hajitale @the-blahajtale @the-blavingad @the-ljushaj @the-fuchsiahaj @the-odethaj @halvgudhaj @the-emohaj @the-fotografhaj @biblicallyaccurateangel-haj @the-arohaj @the-crowhaj @the-korallfisk @scoliosis-haj @the-valhaj @gummy-haj @the-kasmiskhaj @butiksagarehaj @the-truth-seekers @unregistered-haj @the-batmanhaj @the-dovehaj @alcoholhaj @sibhaj @den-av-alla-hajen @bagarhaj @4-sc3n3-sh4rk1e @the-brathaj @gandalf-the-grahaj @the-frankenhaj @nathaj @redhoodhaj @dm-haj @the-vamphaj @bookworm-haj @the-dandyhaj @the-butterhaj @biblically-accurate-haj @teto-haj @sleepyhaj @the-invertedhaj @the-rymdenhaj @the-norsehaj @mintblue-haj @the-smolhaj @groenhaj @spikeplushiehaj @the-aftonsparv @starz-rambles @larryhaj @the-purpursparv @the-rod-katthaj @the-farhaj @emuotorihaj @brithaj @exi-alone

Evilcompanyverse @evil-inc @superhgb @l48yr1nth @the-evil-real-gmail @ratspancakes @evil-maryland

Thegaymilitaryverse @trans-army-real @aromantic-navy @actual-aspec-military @aspec-mafia-official @the-aplatonic-cavalry @the-real-aromantic-fbi @demi-demolitions @aro-sp-ace-force @aroace-evils @electio-aroace-navy @aromantic-detective @the-aroace-attackers @cupiomantic-air-force @the-aroace-defense @the-official-aro-archers @aroace-army-garlicbread-producer @bisexual-navy @pansexual-spaceforce @pan-warriors @real-omnisexual-military @omni-spaceforce @nonbinary-coastguard @transcoastguard @obviously-enby-airforce @genderfluid-marine-corp @actual-transgender-navy @demiboy-army @the-demigirl-airforce @queer-military-treasury @queer-military-authorities @queer-enby-police-force @official-queer-airforce @indianaspecforces @italian-aspec-forces @britishaspecforces @the-aspec-country @american-aspec-forces @canadian-aspec-forces @the-agender-archipelago @disability-submarine-fleet @bisexual-airforce

Theslenderverse @slender-fae @slendergenderfucker @slenderdawg @plague-doctor-slenderman @bitchlessslenderman @robloxian-slenderman @genderfluid-slenderman @selfcare-slenderman @notstraightslenderman @slenderrat @eviler-slenderman @the-splendorman @defense-slenderman @blue-slender @flirtatious-slenderman @slenderjerma @coke-slenderman @hybrid-slenderman @discourse-slenderman @bitchless-slenderman @aroorchid-slenderwoman @realest-slenderman @slenderman-and-the-tapeworms @legallyblondeslenderman @absurdly-tall-slendy @poet-splendorman @poet-slenderman @pinkslenderman @green-slenderman @greenslenderman @drpepper-slenderman @slenderofclubs @slenderofdiamonds @slenderofhearts @slender-mad @slender-judge @slender-miku @slender-genderfluid @slender-woman-returns

Yes hello!! I feel like we are colleagues haha. You do amazing work!

I actually already have your list saved in my drafts because I found it and it's such a wonderful resource! Just havent had time to go through it yet.

Tysm for making sure I have it! If you ever wanna talk gimmick blogs, my dms are open! I find this silly phenomenon fascinating.

[dragoneyes613]

At the end of July, I returned from three weeks in the U.K., most of which were spent in London. As the cultural capital, the city’s attractions for Jewish visitors include but are not limited to illuminated manuscripts at the British Library, the British Museum’s Judaica collection, and the Holocaust Galleries of the Imperial War Museum. Away from London, Cambridge’s Geniza, Oxford’s Bodleian Library, and Manchester’s Imperial War Museum North are among pan-U.K. installations of Jewish art, photos, and artifacts.

Although some Jewish art treasures on display throughout London, its suburbs, and elsewhere in the U.K. are correctly labeled to reflect their history, others fail to do so. There are similar omissions in attributing medical advances to Jewish researchers. When museum or library collections that have obvious Jewish connections or innovations by Jews remain unacknowledged, those collections negate – read: deny – Jews’ positive impact on society.

In recent years, Jewish voices in U.K. arts have contested both a dearth of Jewish characters in theater and TV and Jewish actors chosen to play them. This is a significant issue, but it deviates from the focus here and deserves its own platform. And lest one imagine that I am singling out the U.K.’s considerable achievements in arts and science for reprimand, read on.

Do the U.K. and U.S. experiences below represent cancel culture? In a study (Vogel, Anderson, Porteus, et al., 2021) of how Americans defined it, 14% of respondents pointed to censorship of speech or history. Rewind to my cancel culture experience, before the term went viral.

My Road to Recognizing Cancel Culture

Pre-2006, I visited a London gallery’s temporary photo exhibit on eugenics, a pseudoscience alleging some races’ superior physical characteristics and others’ inferior ones. Eugenics claimed to predict feeblemindedness, predisposition to criminal behavior, and other “undesirable” traits in “undesirable” populations.

I was disturbed that these photos’ annotations lacked sufficient context. The captions failed to take the consequences of eugenics to the next level by explaining how it was manipulated by the Nazis to justify genocides of people of color, Slavs, Roma, and others, most extensively Jews. I confided my concerns to the Open University’s late lifelong learning pioneer Naomi Sargant (aka Lady Haringey), a mensch whom I had previously interviewed. Naomi suggested that I register these concerns with the exhibit’s curators. Here’s what I did: Nothing.

On another occasion, I visited the British Museum’s Roman Britain exhibit to indulge my fascination with that history. Lo and behold, protected by a large case, there was a beautifully engraved silver bowl with a six-pointed star in the middle. The placard described it as of pagan origins. I would have described it as the work of a Jewish craftsman or belonging to a Roman Jew. Again, I did nothing.

Fast forward to July 2024. My plane home was canceled after the previous week’s worldwide “outage” debacle, so I grabbed the bonus day to visit the Victoria and Albert (V&A) Museum. I walked through the recommended jewelry exhibit and stopped at a solid gold necklace, largely because within it, there shined a stunning Magen David. The case’s notation for item #4 stated that it originated in 10th-11th-century Cordoba. No Jewish connection was mentioned.

Enough is enough. I wasn’t going back to my earlier Millennial Silence. I took a visitor comments card (see photo) and explained the star’s “Jewish connection” – that Cordoba’s prominent Jewish community was once home to an illustrious resident – you guessed it – Moses Maimonides. I asked them to investigate and correct the card. I left my contact information with the Museum. Since then, I have received emails reiterating the Museum’s commitment to accuracy and that the appropriate staff would research the matter, but, to date, no definitive response from them has been received.

I left the V&A, with 90 minutes to spend next door at the Science Museum. The docent suggested I visit the Space and Medicine exhibits, which I did, in that order. The space exhibit extolled man’s progress in traversing the universe, beginning with rocket science (advanced in large part by Nazi scientist Werner von Braun) and progressing to pioneering astronauts – Alan G. Shepard, Neil Armstrong, and Yuri Gagarin and others – all named.

Then I proceeded to the Medicine wing, a testament to man’s medical discoveries and those scientists behind them. One can observe how penicillin, the wonder drug discovery of Alexander Fleming, saved lives. Moving on, an iron lung and devices that alleviated the suffering of polio victims are displayed. A small card describes how inoculation halted the polio epidemic, without mentioning Jonas Salk, who first developed the polio vaccine, and Albert Sabin, whose palatable oral polio vaccine was more easily administered to children.

The Science Museum was closing, so I quickly submitted a visitor comments card. I noted that while the museum acknowledged innovations and innovators in science and medicine, it did not do so for Salk and Sabin, whose discoveries had global impact. Was this because they were Jewish, I wondered? The museum’s reply indicated that appropriate research would be conducted and after some days, a representative responded. She cited a display on Ernst Rachwalsky, a German doctor who transported his x-ray machine with him when he fled to England in 1936, but said that in the Medicines and Communities galleries, where the polio epidemic is documented, there are no stories of individual scientists. I didn’t request a story, or even that the museum mention Salk’s and Sabin’s Judaism.

Rather, I asked them “just to put a small placard mentioning their names as associated with each vaccine. I would hope this can be implemented by the museum, because source attribution, or giving credit to those who have innovated or made invaluable contributions, should be standard practice.” No response has been forthcoming.

When Jewish culture and Jews are being canceled, isn’t it time to voice our concerns?

Homegrown Cancelation

My colleague Gary Morgenstein recently remarked that when the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures opened its museum about the history of Hollywood, it omitted virtually all references to Jews – an omission so grievous as to beg calling out. Eventually, public outrage at the Academy’s revisionist history forced the Academy to include the Jewish immigrant creators of “the studio system.” Adding insult to injury, the amended exhibit diminished these men by characterizing them as morally or otherwise depraved. Why it has come to that is, since October 7, really a rhetorical question.

Among the nations, Jews have contributed to the development of science, medicine, the arts, and almost every walk of life, disproportionate to the global Jewish population. Jews, who account for less than 0.2% demographically, comprise approximately 22% of Nobel Prize winners – 41% for economics, 26% for medicine, and 21% for physics. Yet these contributions are increasingly ignored or outright canceled. It’s time to call out this cancellation for what it is.

[killjoynest]

[ID: A photo of a man pointing to the sky, where an panel of the fridge from the comics has been added. Text in the image reads: "If nobody got me, I know mysterious fridge in the desert that somehow has power got me. Can I get an Amen?" End ID]

[ID: The Destiel confession meme from Supernatural. With teary eyes, Castiel says: "I love you." Dean, looking unruffled, replies with a tweet from the NewsAGoGo twitter account, "This station is no longer operational. Have a BETTER day." End ID]

[ID: The Oh No Anyway meme made from two screencaps from the British TV show Top Gear. the caption reads "dr death-defying announcing yet another clap with the exterminators going all costa rica". Panel 1: Show host Jeremy Clarkson says "oh no!" with feigned shock. Panel 2: He looks into the camera with a straight face and says "anyway." End ID]

[ID: The 2-panel "turn up the volume" meme. Panel 1 is a motion-blurred image of a hand turning a volume knob up to the maximum level. Panel 2 is a motion-blurred image of Viner Jay Versace crying with headphones on and pumping his fist in the air. The caption reads "when cherri cola gets too polka dotty to go on air but that means jenni cocaine is covering poetry corner for the evening". End ID]

[ID: Griffin McElroy holding up a piece of paper that reads: "I don't know whats in the grafitti bible and at this point I'm too afraid to ask." End ID]

in-universe posting back yet again

and a few bonus ones:

[ID: A meme of the outline of the side profile of a person's head, labelled kobra kid, with a speech bubble to the left. The person thinks: "this is not a great situation" Out loud, they say: "bit shit innit." End ID]

[ID: A meme of Viktor and Five Hargreeves from The Umbrella Academy, looking out the window at each other from the driver's seats of their cars with confused expressions. Viktor is labeled "me in re-education after my neighbour reported me" and Five is labeled "my neighbour being put in the next tube over." End ID]

[cuubism]

I assume you’ve heard of the phrase “britpicked” (text looked over to make sure the proper Britishisms and such are used)

What’s the American version? Or for any other English-speaking country… we need to come up with phrases to mean “checked over to make sure the X Country’s versions of words/products/etc are correct”

This feels like the sort of thing it would entertain you to think of

Hmmm I love culturally specific language and voice things. I feel like I would call this context or cultural editing. And for me (unfortunately for my sanity) it goes so much deeper than surface level word choice and names for things and such--making something sound properly British, or American, or whatever is embedded in the bones of how characters speak, what they are used to, how they approach certain problems, how they see the world. That can be really hard to get right if it's not your own cultural context. But that's what makes it interesting!

In terms of just language, that too can be very subtle. It's easy enough to google "list of American vs British English words" and be like Oh I have to call it Crisps, or whatever. What's harder but more interesting to pick out is the subtleties of grammar and phrasing.

A few examples. One that I see a lot is that British English, colloquially, sometimes replaces the past continuous tense with the past participle in verbs conveying a state/stasis: "He was sat [on the couch, eg]" (past participle) vs "He was sitting" (past continuous). You can also do it with "stand" -- "He was stood on the street corner" vs "He was standing." [You can also do it in present tense -- So I'm sat there... barbecue sauce on my titties...] Anyway, this pops out to me immediately because you wouldn't hear an American phrase it as "was sat" or "was stood".

But this is how subtle it can be.

Here's another: repetitive use of 'Me' at the end of a first person phrase. "I love a good walk, me." <- feels really British to me. You wouldn't really hear this in the type of generic American "TV accent" or phrasing that you see. (I could see someone in the South saying this, maybe.) What you will hear though is it reversed: "Me, I love a good walk." These things are so so tiny sometimes.

There are a lot of others too.

These subtleties are what's most interesting to me and I feel like you need to be immersed in whatever culture to be able to edit for it effectively. It's one of those "I'll know it's wrong when I hear it" things. It's harder for me to give you American English examples because they're my natural language so I only notice them in direct comparison to others.

Specificity in character voice is so important and adds so much realism and vibrancy. The best way to learn these cultural specific voices is probably talking to real people (or eavesdropping on real people), second best would be anything unscripted like interviews or documentaries or reality TV, third best is anything scripted written by people from the actual place (TV, books, anything).

Ted Lasso is a great example for this sort of thing, both in accents and regional voice, phrasings, idioms, and cultural references. Especially since they're constantly playing it up for comedy's sake. I love the way that show plays with language and cultural context. One of my favorites. Really strong character voices.

You got me on a ramble but yes, I love this sort of thing 😂 Cultural editing I'd call it.

[lillahimmel]

Hello! Someone sent me a request for recommendations regarding Swedish literature/shows/series. So, I thought I would share it with everyone just in case. Now I don't really know what level of beginner you are (imo there's several steps for that!) but I'll try nonetheless ☺️

Last edit: 2025/05/09

I always recommend to watch or read things that are well-known for you to begin with, like for example Disney shows or movies you already know, right, but dubbed! That way you know what the story and details are about as is, and it's a great tool to get used to a language. To make it more advanced you can skip the subtitles.

Some Disney examples would be

Aladdin

Kim Possible

Lilo & Stitch

Recess

Tangled

But honestly, there's a lot of different animated and non-animated productions that we have dubbed, whether it's from Disney or Dreamworks or whatnot. Like Shrek have a dub, Wallace and Gromit, Chicken Run, and so on.

Now material that are actually Swedish from the start!

Old tv shows for kids:

Bamse

About a bear called Bamse, and he grows mighty strong by his grandmother's honey. It's basically a story about him, his family and his friends.

Doktor Mugg

*"Muggen" is slang for toilet, so it's not a show about mugs and kitchenware but toilet villain and silly macho hero!

Eva & Adam

Romantic comedy about school and friends in elementary/primary school.

Fem myror är fler än fyra elefanter (Five ants are more than four elephants)

There are three hosts and they have sketches and songs while also educating the viewer about the alphabet, numbers and other things.

Tillbaka till Vintergatan (Back to the Milky Way)

Basically a space adventure about astronauts and aliens.

Vi på Saltkråkan (Seacrow Island)

Astrid Lindgren made plenty books that turned into tv-shows at the time, this one is about a small island and the people living there and their everyday life.

-

Eva & Adam have books as well (never read them myself, but they exist) and Bamse used to serialise comic magazines and I loved them as a kid back in the day.

Tv shows for adults:

*Disclaimer: Some of these I haven't really watched myself but I know a lot of people enjoy them, so therefore they're included in the list!

Farmen (The Farm)

It's about a certain amount of participators that are supposed to live like farmers in the 1800s for a couple of weeks. So they don't have running water or electricity, and so on.

Frostbiten (Frostbitten)

Documentary about life in the North Arctic. The host and viewer meet people that live in the world’s most isolated places and about temperatures dropping as low as -60°C degrees.

Första dejten (The first date)

Reality show about singles that get matched by the tv show itself and they meetup at this bar. It's based on the British series called First Dates.

Robinson

Survival game on an island for participators. I believe every country have one of these, just like Idol and × Got Talent.

Another thing I recommend is children's books, or picture books, and they're great if you're a beginner. For classic children's literature go to my #Swedish-literature posts! I haven't updated them with more authors though, so besides Astrid Lindgren & Elsa Beskow, there are plenty more!

📬Some oldies

Adjö, herr Muffin (Goodbye Mr Muffin) by Ulf Nilsson, Anna-Clara Tidholm

Petter och hans fyra getter (Petter and his four goats) by Einar Norelius

Picture books series✨️

Emma by Gunilla Wilde

Kotten by Lena Anderson (*The title and name of the character would be translated as "the (pine) cone" and it's a wordplay of the Swedish word for hedgehog which is "igelkott")

Mamma Mu och Kråkan (Mamma Moo and Crow) by Jujja Weislander, Sven Nordqvist

Pettson och Findus (Pettson and Findus) by Sven Nordqvist

Let's see, a few recent picture books are:

Jag vill ha min hatt (I want my hat back) by Jon Klassen

Sigrid och natten (Sigrid and the night) by Jöns Möllgren

Siv sover vilse (Siv sleeps herself lost) by Pija Lindenbaum

I think it's probably Pettson and Findus, and Goodbye Mr Muffin that tends to lean towards more text in their books. BUT I'm not entirely sure, so take it with a grain of salt! If you want books that are more heavy in text, I recommend the posts I mentioned earlier since I list some more of them there. They are still children's books but for older ages. There are books for ages 9-12 year old, which should be more challenging, but that one I would need to make a separate post for another day. Do tell me if that's something interesting for you, and I will compile a little list! Anyways, I hope this was helpful in any way for you and others! 💗

[copperbadge]

Sam, I'm getting in my feels by watching people auditioning on the TV show THE VOICE by singing one of the judge's songs. And one of the videos one of the judges actually starts crying he's so verklempt about how lovely the adaptation is.

And now all I can think about is Buck on the British and/or Shidvah version of some sort of Pop Star audition show, absolutely weeping his eyeliner down his face at some kid rocking the hell out of one of his songs. Or Caleb's. Maybe that scrungy hopepunk version of "Hitsville".

Aw, that's kinda fun, watching people see others cover their songs -- like how Trent Reznor was mildly upset at the idea of Johnny Cash covering "Hurt" but then he heard the song (or saw the video, I don't recall) and had this thought like "Oh -- that's his song now" and was okay with it.

I don't watch reality television much -- I had a colleague who liked The Voice and I tried to watch it so we'd have something to chat about, but I just couldn't get into it. There's a lot of interesting game theory you can learn from some of the shows, but I can't engage for whatever reason, so I don't think I'd be great at writing about Buck participating in that. That said, I have been playing around with doing another Eurovision story eventually, if not a full novel at least a short, because Caleb does keep writing songs for it, it's like his second job now. I haven't quite sorted out how it will work yet but I think it'll be set up so that the National Final winner is given the option of either taking their own song to the semifinals or working with Caleb to have a song custom-tailored for them. Performing a song by Caleb Canto pretty much guarantees the artist will go viral on some level, whether or not they win Eurovision, so it's an attractive offer.

I could see Buck and Caleb getting to jury the Eurovision 2023 national final, especially since Gregory and Eddie are just barely new dads of infants, which makes concert attendance a low priority. I could see a performer covering a Buck Haverd single in part as a way to sass Buck -- you don't cover a song by the artist judging you unless you know you can knock it out of the park. And I could see Buck getting an attitude about it...right up to the moment the artist starts singing. Buck puts up a very convincing facade as a tough guy so I don't know if he'd go full on Colbert Weeping but he might get a smear of eyeliner or two :D

Currently, having discovered that wee Serafina loved his last drop, Buck is working on an album of punk-inspired lullabies. He's gonna call it Baby Rocker.

[freakymcnastys]

“possibly in michigan” a creepp book - headcannons

general headcannons:

slenderman is british.

despite what people might think the mansion is way bigger on the inside

it has its own theater, bar, hell even a convenience store, no one actually knows how the store gets stocked

ben is too scared to go down there bc of that

the slender brothers come over every thanksgiving and christmas but offender is limited to the living room and dining room…

sally FORCES jeff to dress up for tea parties

jeff cuts his own hair but is surprisingly good at it

thinking about how smile dog is basically jeffs therapy dog :(((

jack has def tried to eat jeffs kidneys but give up cuz jeff woke up 💔💔

toby is an AVID game theory/matpat stan like he loves watching everything matpat is in so when he announced his retirement….lets say it was ROUGH.

slender puts all of sally’s drawings on the fridge and when they isn’t enough room he would rather buy another fridge then get rid of them

masky is like the stressed out older sibling 🤷‍♀️

ben has drank paint.

has a snapchat gc where they send each other snaps

whenever slender and jeff (or anyone for that matter) talk/argue slender has to bend at a 90 degree angle 😭😭

devon’s headcannons:

definitely butt dials people and scares the shit outta them 💀

going along with that devon totally prank calls people with ben and is like “is ur refrigerator running” 😭

her and jack watch reality tv shows (love and hiphop, dr phil, kardashins, etc)

devon’s fav movie is donnie darko…😁

she always sends jack funny tiktoks while he sends her reels

her chainsaws name is jellybean !

sometimes when she goes out with the proxys she brings fake slender pages (saying stuff like “bitchless” and the entire bee movie script) and hangs them up (but slender always finds them and yells at her)

her fav slenderbrother is probably trenderman

PERSONALLY i think that like the demon and jack are two different ppl so like whenever ‘the beast’ gets out it’s not rlly jack? yk?

so one time ‘the beast’ was fed up with jack actually letting himself feel feelings for devon that he brought devon to the tree where she got hung, to kill her 😁 but dw he failed but jack felt bad after ☹️👎

has told hoodie to ‘turn that frown upside down’….

goes up to masky and gets up real close and whispers… “i know what you are..” and just walks away..

maxine’s headcannons:

isn't quite used to newer slang so she still talks how people in the 1920s did and nobody really understands her that well...

she hates her cellphone and WILL NOT use it unless it's direly needed.

she definitely has a record collection but it's all jazzy and "old-timey" music and she does not let anyone else near her records or her record player

she would teach ben how to ballroom dance and then force him to have dancing sessions with her because her favorite thing to do when she was human was to dance at parties

slenderman FOR SURE banned smoking in the house but maxine is allowed to break that rule so she waltzes around the house with her huge cigarette holder bullying jeff cause he definitely wants to smoke.

she generally dislikes getting help with wounds and stuff because of all the malpractice that was preformed on her when she was human

the phantom of the opera (1925) is her absolute favorite movie and one day slender comes back from the store with the 2004 version and she literally falls in love with him right at that moment

she's like your grandma that 1. doesn't know how to work her phone (or tv or anything) and 2. says things that she thinks mean one thing and they actually don't... like for example....maxine: im sending lols jack: maxine someone died...why are you laughing out loud... maxine: oh i thought that meant lots of love :( jack: oh my fucking god bro

the effects of her lobotomy pop up from time to time when she's doing stuff so sometimes she loses the ability to focus and kind of "dumbs down" because people who are lobotomized often lose their higher levels of intellectuals and then she loses the ability to emotionally respond so slender has to help her out and keep an eye on her cause she might do something dumb. :(( then once she comes back she feels so bad that slender had to basically babysit her and he feels worse cause how could anyone do his love like that

IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS BUT- maxine and slenderman compliment eachother so well. he's a gentleman and she's a ladylike woman and they just...fit perfectly together

her favorite modern (ish) movie is the shining cause it reminds her of the good old days and she would be like "ah yes i remember when people would kill at parties" and everyone else is like "what"

her 1920s brain loves coloring books cause she's probably never been stimulated via colors so she has a bunch of coloring books and people come over and are like "slender i didn't know you found a child" and he's all like "oh no that's just maxine"

i think sometimes she forgets she doesn't live alone and she will walk out of her room in her underwear and is like "oh great heavens my bad gs"

© love always, kat + devina <3

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

First drink headquartered!

A very legitimate question: What is the connection between Sassenach Spirits and STARZ? 🤔

STARZ invited Sam to promote a tasting at its headquarters during his alcohol tour in Denver. This marked the first time STARZ was directly involved in promoting Sam Heughan's alcohol business at its main office.

Does Sam Heughan's new role as STARZ’s host involve entertaining guests, employees, cast and crew while promoting his business? Is Heughan's alcohol venture related to his actor’s contract?

The American network has long supported Heughan's alcohol; Even their bottles of gin were included as gifts sent to entertainment critics to bolster the Outlander series for consideration, demonstrating Starz network's support to their favourite actor’s side venture.

In case you didn't know for award actors/shows, usually the network is the one to submit actors because it's expensive and very politic-y.

Additionally, during Outlander's wrap parties for the end-of-season, they were topped off with Sassenach whisky, gin, and tequila to entertain attendees, indicating further increased sponsorship by the broadcaster. It should be noted that some STARZ executives travelled to Scotland precisely to attend these end-of-season parties.

However, there seems to be an unusual level of engagement from STARZ regarding Sam’s opportunities, which is not commonly seen with other actors on the network. This raises questions about the nature of his invitation to STARZ headquarters: Was it as an actor, or was it more in line with promoting his alcohol brand?

What role did Alex Norouzi, Sam’s partner who closely resembles his “attached at the hip”, play in this invitation as well? Did he receive an invitation for what purpose? Or was Sam there as a pedlar boozer, pleasing STARZ employees with private whisky and gin tastings and signing bottles during work hours? Because they did not have chance a to meet up with him at a local Total Wine & More store in Denver instead?

Regardless of the reason for his appearance at the network, he ended up on the list of pedlar booze in STARZ headquarters, dressed for the part, no less. His last two series, Outlander, finished filming in 2024 (despite having one more season left the contract is over - a contract usually says “payment will be sent upon completion of filming”), and the series finale in the US, The Couple Next Door, finished airing, leaving no immediate projects on the horizon.

Actors primarily sign contracts specific to a single film or TV show, not a long-term deal with one studio. The old system where actors were tied to one studio for long periods has largely faded away.

This raises more questions: was this an instance of absurd innovation to entertain the employees of the network? Or is STARZ more interested in Heughan’s alcohol business than anyone anticipated?

If this is the point, an arrangement likely involves separate compensation to keep SH engaged, it’s possibly through extra payments for merchandise rather than paid for an acting role. This will seem an inadequate combination and does not support the actor's creativity or allow him to showcase his acting abilities.

#STARZ

Posted 26th February 2025

@yeahyeahoks No, TCND never was part of the BBC. The series is from Channel 4 (Channel Four Television), another British media company that is funded by commercial activities, unlike the BBC, which receives funding through the licence fee. TCND is a collaboration between Channel 4, Starz, and Eagle Eye Drama, the producer, and distributed by Beta Film.

@imahalfemptykindofgirl Sam has found his home at STARZ 🙄, unlike other actors who seek opportunities at different studios to advance their careers. He has focused his attention on this American network, embodying the saying, “Any port in a storm.” I agree that he won't become a top actor at STARZ, despite their efforts to showcase him everywhere across their slate. Although he has appeared in three series on this network, he hasn't delivered standout performances in any of them. Now, they seem determined to turn him into a sales alcohol success that will ignite his STARZ family 🤯

Sam arriving at STARZ….

[themollyjay]

Watch ARK: The Animated Series!!!!

So, I binged ARK: The Animated series today. It's a TV show, which is based on a video game and not only is it great but, I swear to God, whoever wrote this set out with the intention of pissing off the Gamerbro crowd as much as humanly possible.

Stuff that will make the Gamerbros cry and whine like little babies: 01). Main Character is a Aboriginal Australian Lesbian (Voiced by an Aboriginal Australian Actress no less). 02). Main Character's wife is a blue haired women who works as a translator for a humanitarian air organization (voiced by Elliot Page). 03). Main Character is a neurodivergent paleontologist. 04). Main Character's mother was a civil rights activist. 05). There's a plot line revolving around protesting the taking of Aboriginal lands. 06). Another major character is a Chinese Warrior Woman who is also a great big lesbian (voiced my Michelle Yeoh). 07). Main villain is a Roman General (Voiced by Gerard Butler) 08). Secondary Villain is an 19th century British Scientist (Voiced by David Tenant) 09). Tertiary Villain is a female Roman Gladiator. 10). Another major character is a Lakota man from the 19th century who was abducted from his tribe and sent to one of the Indian boarding schools. 11). The Main Character is better at science than the 19th Century British Scientist guy.

Great things about the show: 01). It's very gay. Like, so gay. 02). The characters are freaking awesome. 03). There are freaking dinosaurs. So many dinosaurs. 04). It makes you feel. Just, seriously, it makes you fucking feel.

Cons: 01). Content Warning: Self Unaliving in episode 1 02). This show is fucking violent. Like, I get that there's this whole 'battle for survival' thing going on, but we're talking kind of gratuitous 03). levels of violence. Seriously, half the animation budget was spent on red paint. That much violence. 04). The show is predictable AF. Like, I don't mind that, but don't expect any real surprises or plot twists.

In conclusion: Watch the fuck out of this show, because cons aside, it was freaking amazing. It's not like, Arcane levels of perfection, but if you want a fun, gay, show to watch, this is a great choice. There is also a part too already filmed and in the can which will drop later this year, so we're definitely getting more, and even the preview for Part II has gay in it.

[wowbright]

Chapter 17: Supportive

Figureskating!Blaine/designer!Kurt Olympics AU for december klaine fanworks challenge. Also on AO3.

Kurt arrived in Sochi in the middle of the night, exhausted from flight delays, air turbulence that shook him awake every time he’d just managed to fall asleep, and now the customs line from hell. At this rate, he'd be surprised if he got to the hotel before sunrise. The current hold-up was a media crew with cases and cases of equipment requiring a thorough poking and prodding by officials. Just Kurt’s luck, to end up behind these guys. People with that much luggage should have the courtesy to stand at the back of customs and let everyone else go through first. He scanned the luggage of the dozen or so parties between himself and the media crew and hoped against hope there was nothing interesting in their contents.

Kurt took a deep breath and reread the text from Blaine that had been awaiting him upon landing: Going to bed now so I guess I'll be asleep when you land. :( I miss you so much I’m stupid with it. xox

He smiled and texted back. Good morning, handsome. Landed safely. Can’t wait to see you. <3

Perhaps these kind of text messages weren't exactly what Sue had in mind when Kurt had promised not to be a distraction. But surely it would be even more distracting to Blaine if Kurt went cold. Not that Kurt could go cold if he wanted to.

“It’s a camera battery,” Kurt heard someone say in a familiar lilt. He looked to the front of the line.

Kurt cursed out loud. Fuck or shit or fuck me or fils de chien—he wasn't sure which one he'd said, only that a child who looked to be about eight years old (and was taking the whole standing-in-a-line-at-midnight thing with more aplomb than Kurt) stared at him with mouth and eyes wide open in shock.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Excuse-moi.” He turned away before the kid’s parent could stare at him too.

Nothing made sense. Kurt must be jetlagged and hallucinating. He'd heard of people having waking dreams when they were exhausted. Had reached that level of sleeplessness?

He shook his head and blinked. He looked front of the line again. Nope. It was real. Up at the head of the line, in one of his countless identical-except-in-color henleys and signature beanie, Adam Crawford was bickering with a customs agent.

This didn't make sense. It made absolutely no sense. Adam had moved back to England. Very dramatically, in fact, with a promise-threat that they would never see each other again as long as Adam had anything to do with it. Don't try to get in touch with me. I'm blocking you on social media. Don't ask my friends after me. I never want to see or hear from you again. Fuck, if I could keep you from seeing me on the telly, I would! Those had been, more or less, the last words Adam had spoken to Kurt. A slammed door had been involved, with a force strong enough to send the framed poster from Kurt’s production of Sweeney Todd careening to the floor.

So many fights. They had all started—or the last round of them had started—because Adam had been offered a job as a presenter for one of the big British TV shows (or maybe it was a small TV show on a big British network; Kurt never got clear on that amid all his willful avoidance of the topic). It wasn't a role on Downton Abbey, but Adam had resigned himself somewhere along the path of their acquaintance to the fact that he was better at lighthearted fare than drama, anyway. That’s why they wanted him as a presenter—because he was light and casual and funny in a non-challenging way and handsome without being threatening, which made him simultaneously someone to admire and someone viewers could imagine sharing a pint with at the pub. And being a presenter on one show could lead to being a presenter on another show, and, “Kurt, this is the break I've been waiting for. It’s not like my other television gigs, where I fly out for a few days or weeks and it’s over. It’s a steady paycheck. We’ll be filming most of the year. Come with me. The West End theaters will adore you, and the film industry is right next door—not 2,500 miles away like here. You could do it all!”

Adam had presented this like it was good news for both of them, with flowers and dinner and a three-star Michelin restaurant, the same as he’d done two years earlier when he’d announced he was ready to move in with Kurt—and Kurt had been so carried away by the gesture that he had somehow failed to notice the announcement sort of assumed that Kurt had been waiting for Adam to be ready, when in fact the idea of them moving in together wasn't even a topic that they had discussed before in any degree of seriousness. But it made financial sense, and it seemed like the next right step if Kurt was sincere about his high school bucket list item of Get married by age of 30, legally. Adam adored him, and Kurt loved being adored, and that had sustained their relationship longer than any of Kurt’s previous ones. It might not have been the all-encompassing romance Kurt had dreamed of as a lonely gay kid in Ohio. But at some point you had to learn the difference between fantasy and reality. Adam was real, and kind, and handsome, and hunky, and grounded and practical about things in a way Kurt just wasn’t. That pragmatism was a useful counterweight to Kurt’s doing things by impulse and gut feeling. It tethered Kurt to the ground.

Kurt knew Adam’s pragmatism was good for him. Even when it sent him into fits of panic, like the time—a year or so into living together—Adam had announced at another three-star restaurant that they should start planning for kids—“Not right away, our apartment’s too small for that, but maybe we could start looking at places in Connecticut, or a brownstone—and of course we’ll need to weigh adoption and surrogacy; I've never been clear on whether you have a strong preference”—and Kurt had run into the bathroom and lost all his exquisite dinner before splashing his face and telling himself he was being ridiculous. Hadn't Kurt always imagined kids as a possibility in his life? It was only logical of Adam to bring it up now. Taking care of infants was exhausting, if the co-workers who complained about it were telling the truth. Kurt shouldn't wait until some vague future a decade-plus from now when he’d have presbyopia and the sleep loss would be even more of a nightmare than it would be now.

That's what Kurt had told himself in the restaurant bathroom. Then, he’d gone back out and told Adam how forward-thinking it was of him to bring it up. But somehow over the following months, every time Adam suggested they go househunting or visit a surrogacy clinic or talk to an adoption lawyer, Kurt mentioned something else pressing that needed their attention or, if all else failed, distracted Adam with sex.

Now, in yet another three-star Michelin restaurant—this one specializing in molecular gastronomy and serving its exquisitely crafted works of art in tiny portions that left Kurt famished—he found himself unable to accede to Adam’s logic.

“I can't leave here,” Kurt had said.

“Of course you can, Kurt. You'll have no problem getting work on the West End. Actually, I already spoke to …”

Adam had connections. When those connections contacted Kurt, it was easier to send out his portfolio than not. He got lots of meetings out of it. A contract for a London production sat on his desk for weeks, even as Kurt made an impromptu weekend trip to Ohio for Father’s Day.

“You need to get that settled,” Adam scolded before Kurt left. “If there's a clause you don't like, get it fixed. But if you leave them dangling, you'll lose the job. I don't know why you're procrastinating.”

Kurt didn't know why he was procrastinating, either. Or rather, he did know, but not in any way he could explain to Adam. It was just that, every time Kurt thought about relocating to a place where everyone talked like Adam, his skin crawled. My skin is crawling, however, was not the kind of explanation Adam could understand. Adam understood things like pay rate and opportunity and weighing the pros and cons. He did not understand making life-altering decisions based on I just feel uneasy and I've developed a sudden revulsion for English accents.

In Ohio, talking with his father on a perfect June evening with, perhaps, one too many Yuenglings under his belt and the setting sun lighting up the backyard in vivid yellows and oranges and pinks as the first fireflies signaled from the grass, Kurt let it all out: how frustrated he was with himself, how terrible he was as a partner, how he knew he should be supportive and it was a great opportunity for them both, but still—he didn’t want to upend his whole life. Not for this.

“Not for what, Kurt?” his dad had asked.

“For any of it. It’s not worth it.”

“It’s not worth a future with Adam?”

The puzzle Kurt had been trying to solve for the last few years suddenly clicked into place. The reason he clammed up whenever Adam talked about the future, the reason he couldn't talk about kids or moving away from New York—it wasn't because Kurt was impetuous and impulsive and couldn’t deal with the choices one had to make as an adult.

It was because he didn't want to make those choices with Adam.

And it was bewildering. There was nothing wrong with Adam. He had come along at just the right time, right in Kurt’s mid-twenties as he was tiring of casual dating and fooling around. Adam wasn’t like the other guys. He believed in commitment. He’d swept Kurt off his feet, won Kurt over with flattery and genuine admiration, and Kurt had been so high from it all that he hadn't realized—he'd never fallen in love with Adam. He'd only fallen in love with security and the feeling of being loved.

Back in New York, Kurt looked up from the contract and said, with a decided calm and finality that surprised even him, “I've decided not to sign it because … I'm not going to England with you. I’m sorry, Adam. But I’ll never be what you want.”

It seemed gentler than saying I'll never feel what you want me to feel.

Adam hadn't left immediately. He tried to speak sense into Kurt. But Kurt held fast. Adam wasn’t used to that. I don't even know who you are, Kurt! he’d shout, and Kurt would just look at him sadly and say, I know.

Once or twice, after Adam left, Kurt had been tempted to google “Adam Crawford” in hopes of finding news of his success. Despite a resentment of Adam that had built throughout their breakup and sometimes flared up again out of nowhere, he wanted Adam to be happy. Kurt knew what it was like to have your heart broken, and he hated that he’d been the one to break Adam’s. But Kurt never followed through on the search. Adam wanted nothing to do with him.

Well, Kurt didn’t need to worry about googling or not googling now. Because here was Adam with a full media crew in the middle of a Russian airport. He must be doing okay in television, at least.

The line moved forward. Adam was out of sight now along with the rest of his crew, dissipating into the faceless masses on the other side of customs, becoming tiny contributions to the hundreds of thousands in Sochi. Kurt likely wouldn’t see him again. And if he did—well, certainly they’d be in a crowd. It would be easy to disappear.

“Thank goodness,” muttered Kurt, and the eight-year-old stared at him again. Huh. Maybe the kid didn’t understand a word Kurt said but just liked staring or, perhaps, was fascinated by Kurt’s stunning couture. Kurt smiled. The kid smiled back.

Kurt’s phone buzzed. It was Blaine. Good morning to you, too. I can’t wait to see you either.

Did I wake you up? I’m sorry.

No. Woke up because jet lag. Good dreams though.

Oh?

We were standing in the Garden of the Gods and I wanted to kiss you.

Heat rose to Kurt’s face. He forgot all about Adam. It wasn't possible to hold all those complicated memories in the same space as this bliss. Are you sure that was a dream? he texted back.

A memory, maybe. I always want to kiss you.

Kurt stared at his phone. Damn pragmatism. Damn Sue Sylvester. I always want to kiss you too.

[shitpostingperidot]

Kamala Khan’s bookshelves

Kamala’s room in The Marvels is an absolute treasure trove of little details to zoom in on, and I’ve identified so many books on her shelves!

Shelf 1, top to bottom:

1. Landmark Experiments in Twentieth Century Physics by George L. Trigg

College-level book about experiments that helped us learn about x-rays, lasers, isotopes, superconductors, and all kinds of other things I don’t understand. Meant to be more practical than theoretical since it talks about the actual methodologies of these experiments. Could be for school, or for Kamala and Bruno to run their own tests of Kamala’s powers. The first of many books in the Khan house that come from Dover Publications.

2. Space Time Matter by Hermann Weyl

“An esoteric initiation into space time physics” -Amazon reviewer. I’m gonna be real, I don’t understand half the words in this book description, but apparently it’s famous for introducing gauge theory, which was later reborn as phase transformations in quantum theory. I can see this being something Kamala reads to try and understand the bangle transporting her to the Partition. Also from Dover.

3. A Map to the Sun by Sloane Leong

A graphic novel about a high school girl’s basketball team learning to work together despite their many differences and conflicts. Also it has a gorgeous color palette. Seems fairly self explanatory why it’s in this movie. I’ll definitely be borrowing this from my library! Like my friend Kamala recommended a book to me herself.

4. The Good Immigrant anthology edited by Nikesh Shukla

21 essays from Black, Asian, and Minority Ethnic (BAME) people in the UK about their experiences. It was crowdfunded initially, extremely critically acclaimed, and has gotten spinoffs and sequels. Riz Ahmed, who is British Pakistani, is one contributor, and a fun fact is that Rish Shah (Kamran from Ms. Marvel) worked with Riz Ahmed in an Oscar winning short called The Long Goodbye. Also, the editor, Nikesh Shukla, is currently writing the Spider-Man India comics series!

5. Bright Lines by Tanwi Nandini Islam

A coming-of-age story about 3 young adults with complicated family, friend, and romantic relationships between them. They have to travel from Brooklyn to Bangladesh together one summer and thereby discover a lot about themselves. I haven’t read it, but there seems to be a ton of complex representation of LGBTQ, POC, immigrant, and Muslim characters. I wonder how much the three main characters can be compared with our three characters with complex relationships in The Marvels, and I wonder which character Kamala most relates to!

6. I can’t tell! The font is bugging the hell out of me because theoretically, with that amount of contrast, I should be able to read a word when I get two inches from the TV and mess with the settings. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

7. I also can’t tell, but I’m being easier on myself because the title is written in white on a yellow background. It’s not the only book I know off the top of my head with this color scheme (Yellowface by RF Kuang) because the title is definitely multiple words. Help!

Shelf 2, right to left:

1. One Night that Changes Everything by Lauren Barnholdt

A YA romance where, through a convoluted series of events, a teenager must face all of her insecurities in one night. I can see Kamala devouring this as brain candy after wrestling with those advanced science books, or using it as fic inspiration!

2. Can’t tell, but love the color scheme!

This next one is a weird one, because I am 100% sure of what book it is, but I cannot find a picture of a matching edition.

3. Wizard at Large by Terry Brooks

It’s definitely, without a doubt, this book (where a character and a magical medallion are accidentally transported to Earth from another realm and switches places with an evil genie). Like those are the words on the spine and the plot of the book is an obvious choice for this movie. The fonts match on the audiobook, the ebook, and the next two books in the series. But try as I might, I cannot find any proof on the internet that the physical book that appears in Kamala’s room, that uses those two fonts and that spine formatting, exists. This is haunting me…

4. (On the other side of the box) It’s not The Twilight Saga Eclipse, but I definitely thought it was before I could watch in high definition. I think it’s a journal or sketchbook of Kamala’s; there are a bunch scattered throughout the room.

Shelf 3:

I’ve only identified the bottom book, which is Einstein’s Theory of Relativity by Max Born (Dover Publications). The third one up is HAUNTING me, it looks SO identifiable and yet!

Living Room Side Table:

1. Amateur Astronomer’s Handbook by JB Sidgwick (from Dover Publications)

2. Cosmology by Hermann Bondi (also Dover)

Both of these seem less difficult than the science books in Kamala’s room, but reviewers note that it helps to know calculus when reading Cosmology. Idk which member of the Khan family is reading these, but I love their family’s connection to the stars 💫

Tbh I’m having so much fun doing this! And I really wish we got to see Monica’s living space so I can analyze her books 😭

[candlelightreader]

I am currently on a Jane Eyre bender, having watched every single adaptation since 1943 (I couldn't find 1934 or prior) in the last two weeks, and I have a lot of thoughts! But two thoughts are at the very top:

a) This piece of literature has had a TV or feature adaptation practically every decade, sometimes more, since the 1910s (and I'm only counting British and American version) and is we're due one this decade. Bring it on! I'll take a series after 2011, but hey 2006 is great already so maybe we just need another film? Or just give us the 2011 director's cut, you cowards!

b) (and this is the bigger point for today) I cannot explain to myself why, while I find age gaps intolerable in real life and especially in modern times, I really can't see it (and forget about it even) in Jane Eyre--for the most part. It doesn't truly bother me that she's barely 18 and Rochester 20 years older. Not even when you take into account the kind of life he led before he meets her and the added major power imbalance in their situation as boss/employee.

I mean, I have come to understand that the power imbalance given the norms at the time is the reason he brings in Ingram to try to get her to admit her feelings. He can't come outright and ask her for fear of appearing like a cad and stepping over the line if she doesn't reciprocate his feelings. At the same time, she can't ask him plainly because if she is wrong about his feelings, she'll only be the cliché governess who comes on to her boss and probably have to leave the very nice job and first refuge she ever had. So they are both at an impasse.

(I choose here to take at face value the idea that Bertha is truly mad and not driven mad and that the whole thing is tragedy because he's unable to divorce her. It's its own rant to discuss what she may represent or what the truth may be with her. Also noting that the age gap is only problematic because she's a teenager and he's basically middle-aged. If they had met later, at least nearer 25 for her, then it wouldn't be the same, although it really only stops being concerning after about 29, right?)

Anyway, I come back to the fact that I feel bothered that I am not that bothered that they have such gap. Because the other imbalances (wealth and employment status) adjust themselves eventually, but not age; he remains older and she younger. Is it because in the very specific context they are in they are equal in spirit and each really have something to teach the other? Or perhaps the time period? Because I definitely feel I would have an issue with the story if it was set in the 21st century, only because an 18yo today is not in any way the same as one in the mid 19th century.

She also has a superior self-awereness to her, given her life experiences that he lacks when they meet. He just has to first be humbled and taken down notches to get to her level. In that sense, he is no more mature for having lived longer and is stuck emotionally and perhaps mentally too in the age he was when his father and brother's died soon after his first marriage. But it remains she is a girl with absolutely no experience with men and he's a lothario who's been gallivanting the globe seducing women and being a sugar daddy.

One may say it's also because it is addressed by the characters themselves and that Rochester seems self-aware that he is much older, even at a time when many men of his station would see it as their due to get the 'young thing'. He makes remarks on his age in a way that diffuses the idea that she is blind to the potential for corruption that is there in their situation. He knows she deserves better.

But most important perhaps is that, in real life, the idea of a 38 yo and 18 yo getting together feels wrong because we have no insight into the relationship and only see the imbalance (justifiably because we know too well of the way older partners will manipulate their younger ones) no matter the gender. So the insight into Jane Eyre's mind manages to convince me of the validity of the relationship than if I was reading it as a document removed from her voice.

Jane Eyre is not the only story where I have contradictory views of age gaps. I am sure I've read other romances with gaps that don't bother me, when in real life I find it reprehensible for the most part.

Anyhow, I will certainly be looking into academic breakdowns of the couple to seek some answers, as I do.

These where thoughts I wanted to put down. Will come back later for thoughts on the adaptations.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I'm a long term UK reader of your work and also a fellow fic writer. I have just experienced really bad moment with my friends and a family member regarding my fic. My close friends and sister knows I write fanfic but didn't really bother about it. I write predominantly Aemond/Helaena or Targcest. Today, a article came out in The Sun (British paper) saying incest TV plotlines are fuelling children abusing their siblings. I didn't know this until a friend sent me the link then it spread through our WhatsApp group that I wrote Hotd incest fic when another friend brought it up after doing some digging. Apparently they all didn't realise I wrote specifically that kind of stuff like Targcest etc. My sister got wind of it and flipped out. My friends are saying I need to stop writing it, it's gross, do I have incest kink and so on they're treating me like I have some kind of disease. I am single with no kids but one of them hinted she would have contacted social services if I did and said that I seemed alarmingly comfortable with the idea of incest and sexual abuse. However my sister says I've to stay away from her and my niece and nephew for now until she's figured how she feels but our mom is wanting to know what's wrong and I'm so scared of what will happen if it spreads. Like I do not support RL incest or abuse even though it features heavily in my fic. But now it feels my sister is making out I'm some sort of predator and my niece and nephew are not safe around me or I'm gonna make them abuse the other. I am not suicidal but like my whole life feels like a black hole now because they're all on the offensive over some fic.

Hello!

Your sister is absolutely in the wrong here, and -- pardon my language -- needs to shove her puritanism up her arse.

Depiction of topics in fiction do not equate to real life advocacy for them. Can you imagine how dull the world of literature would be if people only wrote novels that were reflective of their real world values?

Imagine if Shakespeare had chucked away his manuscript for Romeo and Juliet because he was worried people would think he was trying to promote teenage suicide. The idea of John Steinbeck shitcanning Of Mice and Men over worry that people would think he believes that people who are intellectually disabled should be put down is utterly ridiculous. I could go on; Flowers in the Attic, Lolita, etc.

Fiction always has, and always will, deal with difficult subject matter. It is unfortunate that the recent rise in conservatism and the decline in people's literacy levels has led to an incapability to separate fiction from reality.

Has your sister ever read Twilight? Does she believe it's okay for people to form deep romantic connections with babies because of it? Of course she doesn't. Tell her she needs to give her head a wobble, and keep your chin up in the meantime.

I would recommend opening up to your mum if you are worried - it will sound better coming from you rather than whatever spin your sister tries to put on it. I bet your mum will be more understanding than you think!

[trashmenace]

Death ed Stuart David Schiff

Death ed Stuart David Schiff 1982, Playboy Paperbacks

Two Bottles of Relish by Lord Dunsany (orig Time & Tide, Nov 12, 1932)

A variation on a locked door mystery - a body disposal without leaving the house mystery. This one stayed with me since childhood, though the premise wasn't as locked in as it could be.

Deathtracks by Dennis Etchison

A Nielson family survey taker visits a couple who look for hidden messages in TV laugh tracks to explain why their son died in Vietnam.

Always Together by Hugh B. Cave

One elderly twin murders the other and keeps up a ruse that she's still alive. A good setup for a twist in the tale which never happens.

Toilet Paper Run by Juleen Brantingham

Engaging story set in a girls' reform school, but the ending felt tacked on to fit the genre.

The Green Parrot by Joseph Payne Brennan (orig Weird Tales, July 1952)

Another boring entry in the "that person you thought was alive turns out was already dead" style of ghost story.

Fragment from a Charred Diary by Davis Grubb

Comedy piece about a man using a voodoo doll to commit the political assassinations of the 1960s, escalating from there.

The Scarf by Bernice Balfour

A disfigured woman concealing her face with a scarf and a curious newspaper delivery boy.

Sentences by Richard Christian Matheson

Comedy twist in the tale about a man getting his life rewritten.

Prickly by David A. Riley

A child corrupting Satanist with a monkey familiar kills himself in a British tenement building. Years later, strange creatures scuttle the halls, and children sing nursery rhymes about Prickly.

The Kennel by Maurice Level (orig Tales of Mystery and Horror, 1920)

A cuckold husband finds the body of his wife's lover and disposes of it.

Onawa by Alan Ryan

An adoptive native girl with a taste for blood

A Telephone Booth by Wade Kenny

A gambler can get tips from the future from a pay phone.

Straw Goat by Ken Wiseman

Folk horror with murderous farmers and a sacrificial straw goat.

Horrible Imaginings by Fritz Leiber

Long piece about a creep being obsessed with his neighbor, which I skipped.

The Blind Spot by Saki (orig Beasts and Super-Beasts, 1914)

Comedy piece about a killer servant.

The Dust by Al Sarrantonio

A simpleton shut-in is obsessed with dust.

It Grows on You by Stephen King

A vignette of small town misery which feels more like background to a fuller story. It's been re-written a few times, and later versions may be more tied in to the Castle Rock mythos and be more explicitly horrific. Something about a house getting a new wing built connected with people dying, but not much meat on the bones here.

The Copper Bowl by George Fielding Eliot (orig Weird Tales, December 1928)

Nasty proto-shudder pulp yellow peril story of a French Legionnaire's love being tortured by a Chinese despot.

From Amazon https://amzn.to/3vkEvlR