#burke and youth;;;;

[broh3m3]

I JUST WANTED TO CHEER HIM ON WHAT DO U MEAN LEAVE THIS WORLD

[allweknewisdead]

Simple Men (1992) - Hal Hartley

I can't stand the quiet!

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

AMERICAN HARDCORE PUNK IN A NUTSHELL -- THE STAGEDIVE WAS BORN.

PIC INFO: Spotlight on skateboarder/punk rocker Chuck Burke stage-diving during a D.O.A., ADOLESCENTS, & STIFF LITTLE FINGERS gig at Perkins Palace, Pasadena, CA, on July 4th 1981. 📸: Ed Colver.

"We weren't beating the shit out of each other, but we were definitely trying to outdo who could backflip off the stage and land on someone. There was a style to it -- it was like Kung Fu but without the Fu."

-- JIMMY GESTAPO of NYHC band MURPHY'S LAW, excerpt from the book "American Hardcore: A Tribal History" (2010) Second Edition, written by Steven Blush

Source: www.mprnews.org/story/2006/10/19/hardcore.

[lewmagoo]

naked poetry | ben mears

description: in which two lovers explore new heights of pleasure

pairing: professor ben mears x f!reader

word count: 7,102

warnings: 18+ only, brief mention of past trauma, unprotected p in v sex, professor/student roleplay, title kink, sir kink, oral (m receiving), begging, creampie

The setting sun cast a cozy yellow glow across the comfortable office that was home to all the writing projects and research excursions Ben Mears partook in. 

A place that was set up just the way he liked it. A simple writing desk housing an antique typewriter he picked up at an estate sale. Bookshelves boasting of both practical and fictional books, including all the ones he’d written as well. 

Front and center was his most recent book. It had taken him years to write, but it was finally published, and he was deeply proud of it. The story of a young writer and the woman he loved, overcoming the impossible when a throng of vampires reigned terror on their beloved hometown. 

No one knew the story was true. No one except you, and the young boy you’d rescued when the Lot fell. Ben supposed no one would believe either of you if you claimed the story was true. But it didn’t matter, because that time was behind you now. You’d moved on with life, and you were happy now. You were safe. 

It had been ten years since you fled from Jerusalem’s Lot with the clothes on your back, Mark Petrie in your arms, and Ben by your side. You had nothing. 

Those first few months were difficult. You lived in motels and barely scraped by. But your beloved Ben was determined to make things better for you and Mark. It took a while, but you settled down eventually, far from the charred remains of the Lot. 

The three of you focused on processing the trauma you had experienced. You found a therapist for Mark to see regularly, and you gently encouraged Ben to see one alongside you. He was plagued with terrible nightmares, and it broke you to listen to him wake up sobbing, burying his face in your chest. 

It was no walk in the park. You faced many setbacks and trials. But you had each other, and that helped. 

Eventually, Mark was re-enrolled in school. You got a job working at the local library. Ben focused on writing, but finally bit the bullet and decided to try his hand at teaching. College had never been something he enjoyed, and in his youth, he had barely gotten through a year of it before he dropped out altogether. 

Now, things were different. He had a family to think about. You and Mark were his world, and he was determined to make something of himself so that he could take care of you, and see to it that the boy had good schooling. 

And, in a way, it gave Ben a chance to honor Matt Burke, his dear friend that he’d lost during the events that took place back in ‘salem’s Lot. 

So he returned to college and completed the necessary steps to become a teacher. 

Now, years later, he’d secured a job as a professor at the local university. It paid well, and he had the privilege of teaching American literature. While his true passion was writing, he found that he enjoyed teaching more than he’d anticipated. He understood why Matt Burke had done it for so many years. 

On the side, Ben had been working on publishing his book, When Evil Lurks. His other books had seen moderate success, but he had no idea how the general public would respond to this one. 

Much to his delight, and utter relief, the response surpassed his greatest expectations. The book received critical acclaim, and secured itself on the New York Times bestseller list. He received handsome monetary gain from it. Enough to secure a comfortable life for his little family. 

It had been over ten years since you had left the Lot, and things were looking up for the three of you. With the earnings from When Evil Lurks, you and Ben were able to help put Mark through college. 

With Mark off pursuing his studies, it was just you and Ben in your quaint, but comfortable, cottage. For the first time in a decade, you found yourselves entirely alone together. All this time had been spent getting through the pain you’d experienced, raising Mark, and trying to find your way in life. 

Now, you had so much time to truly get to know each other inside and out. It felt like you were dating each other all over again, and you loved it. When you first met Ben, you had only been able to go on a few proper dates before all hell broke loose, and you had to fight for your lives. 

When it was all over, it seemed only a given that you would simply stay together. Your trauma had bonded you together forever. 

But that part of your lives was over. Not forgotten, but you had processed your grief and learned to live again.

Now you found yourselves enjoying a domestic life. You had a small vegetable garden. A few chickens. A goat. A nice, quiet portion of land in the countryside. You still worked at the local library a few days a week, but you were able to enjoy a slower, more relaxed life. It was incredibly healing. 

Ben had a nice schedule at the university. He only taught three days a week, so oftentimes, your days off would coincide, and you would be able to enjoy time together. 

Today was one of those days. 

You had enjoyed a nice, leisurely morning in bed together, kissing and touching and enjoying the warmth and softness of one another’s bodies. Then you found yourselves snuggled in the breakfast nook in the kitchen, eating a brunch that consisted of eggs from your chickens and a few of the last vegetables of the season from your garden. 

It was officially autumn, and first frost would soon come. Your garden would sleep until next spring, when the earth thawed again. Until then, you were appreciative of the last few vegetables it had given you, and had been using them in soups and stews all week. 

After brunch was eaten that morning, you floated through the day doing chores and enjoying the lovely weather. However, beneath it all was a sizzle of excitement thrumming in your veins, for you had special plans that evening. 

With your newfound alone time, you had been exploring things together. Growing more adventurous in your sexual escapades. It kept things new and exciting, and you both loved it. 

Ben took to grading papers for the entirety of the afternoon, wanting to get ahead of it so he could spend the weekend focusing solely on you. He almost couldn’t focus on his work, because he knew what was to come. 

His mind kept wandering as he scanned over each essay, and he had to continuously draw his attention back in. But how could he, when thoughts of you filled his head? And how could he, when he knew that very soon, he would have you naked on this very desk?

By some miracle, though, he finished grading the essays, albeit hastily. And just in time, too, for moments later, as the sun was beginning to set in the sky, he heard a knock at the door of his study. 

He felt like a damn teenager, sexed up and teeming with hormones. That was simply the effect you had on him. 

He cleared his throat, trying his best to keep his composure. “Come in!”

Seconds later, you were slipping into the room, and his eyes widened behind the thick frames of his glasses. You looked incredible, donning a short plaid skirt that left little to the imagination, and a blouse that he could see the peaks of your nipples through. 

His mouth went dry as your eyes flitted about the room, an air of shyness about you. 

“Professor Mears?” You innocently spoke. It sent his blood rushing south. 

Leaning back in his chair, he mustered a smile. “My office hours are actually over. Can we meet sometime next week instead?”

“Actually, I…I was hoping to talk to you now.” You stepped forward, and in your hands was a piece of paper. “See, I wrote an essay, and I was hoping you could look at it and give me some pointers on what I should change?”

How sneaky you were. He could see that you had used his typewriter to write an essay on the paper you held. “I suppose I could take a look.” He stretched out his hand, and you placed the paper in it. 

As he glanced over the content, he felt heat rising past the collar of his shirt, and his breath hitched. The words you had written were salacious. This was no essay. This was a love letter. 

Dear Professor Mears,

I’m writing this letter because I need to confess something to you. I can’t stop thinking about you. Each time I watch you teach in class, I fall more in love with you. It’s hard to pay attention, because my mind wanders. I think you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and I find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss you. To feel your lips on mine. To have you touch me. I think about how big your hands are, and how they would feel on my body. I get so wet when I picture your fingers inside me. They’re so long, and I know they would fill me up so nicely. When I touch myself, I can’t help but imagine you in my head. Maybe your face is between my legs with your tongue on my pussy, or maybe your cock is inside me. It makes me cum so hard. I know this is highly inappropriate of me, but I needed to confess all of this before I combust. And maybe, some foolish part of me, hopes you’ll feel the same.

Ben stared at the words, his chest heaving slightly, his ears red, his eyes blurring. Sucking in a breath, he removed his glasses, setting your letter down and pinching the bridge of his nose. This was no more obscene than the sex scenes he’d written in his books. He considered himself very good at writing erotica, and had spent many a writing session describing sex acts in explicit detail.

Yet this? This was different. This wasn’t simply a fantasy etched into paper. This was happening in real time, before his very eyes, and he suddenly felt like a prude, even though he was far from it.

You watched him, pressing your thighs together at the sight of him reading the note. You were certain you would melt on the spot. There was something so erotic about watching him process your words. When you had discussed role playing this scene, you hadn’t revealed to him that you were going to write such a thing. His reaction was firsthand and genuine. 

Ben looked up at you. He had to fight to stay in character, taking on the role of the stern professor. “Y-young lady, this is highly inappropriate. I could have you expelled for this. In fact, I could be removed from my position here.”

You bowed your head, wringing your hands. “I’m sorry sir. I…I’ve just been tortured by these thoughts of you and needed you to know how I feel.”

“Look at me.” 

Your eyes shot up to his. Impossibly blue behind his glasses. His mouth wavered in what seemed to be a hidden smile. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, as if to loosen it. 

“I have half a mind to tell you to get out.” He rose from his chair, flattening his palms against the oak desk beneath him. Mouth parted, lashes fluttering. “But perhaps…” He trailed off, considering his next words. 

“Sir?”

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. “Maybe I could help…uh, help you fix this problem you’re having.” God, he was burning up. He felt ridiculous, saying such lines, but at the same time, it was exhilarating. 

“Oh, would you? I promise, once you do, I won’t ever seek you out again. I just need some sort of relief. I think I’m going crazy.” 

Might as well commit to the bit, right?

So he patted his desk. “Come here.”

You padded across the rug, body tingling with excitement as you took a seat on the edge of his desk, facing him. He leaned back in his chair, bottom lip caged between his teeth as he appraised you. Your skirt rode up, and you spread your legs for a moment so he could see that you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

He sucked in a breath, and slowly, he rose to his feet, eyeing you up as if he was a wolf who’d just sunk his teeth into the innocent flesh of a lamb. “You dirty girl. You knew I’d give into you, didn’t you? Parading around, with nothing on underneath this skirt. A single gust of wind and everyone would be able to see.” A smirk played upon his mouth. “Is that what you want? For everyone to see how desperate you are for your professor?”

You squirmed beneath the heaviness of his stare. “No, I…I only want you to see.” And then, “Sometimes I don’t wear any panties in class, because I hope you’ll look down and see.”

His fingers idly slid up your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “And what if I told you I have seen? I’ll catch glimpses when you cross your legs. I should’ve known you were doing it on purpose. So eager to get my attention…” 

Higher and higher his fingers went, while further and further your legs parted. “You have no idea what it does to me, seeing your sweet little pussy on display like that. I’ll admit that I’ve had to excuse myself at the end of class to take care of things.”

He ducked forward, glancing at your lips. He was so close, you could feel the heat of his body, and smell the woodsy scent of his cologne. 

“S-sir?” Innocently asking for clarification, though you knew what he meant.

Gently, he grasped your wrist and brought your hand down to his crotch, where he pressed your palm against the hardness that resided there. “Feel that? You’ve made me so hard, angel. It’s why I have to lock myself in my office after class. So when you tell me that you touch yourself to the thought of me…I’ve done the same when thinking of you.”

Which, was not an entirely fabricated statement. You were cheeky, at times, always wanting to keep things exciting between the two of you. On more than one occasion, you had slipped quite a few lewd Polaroid photos of yourself into his lunchbox. He’d learned to take his lunch in the privacy of his office so he could fully admire the pictures without anyone happening upon something that was meant for his eyes only.

He rutted against your hand, and you whined softly. “I want you so badly, Professor Mears. Please, I just want to know what it feels like when you make love to me.”

“You will,” came his reassurance. “But first, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

He stepped back, and the absence of his warmth made you shiver. You watched, already thrumming with need, as he took a seat in his chair, spreading his thighs. The golden hour sunlight cast its heavenly glow upon him, glittering in the sprinkle of premature grays that had begun to appear throughout his chestnut locks, like the intricate web of a spider. 

Those grays held a story, and had begun appearing after you left the Lot a decade ago. Evidence of what he’d been through, and how it had aged him. 

You couldn’t help the swell of pride, though, that warmed your chest whenever you looked at them. You’d both come so far. Now here you were, engaging in a silly little role play in your cozy home, because you could. Because you were safe and in love and the horrors were behind you now. 

It made you smile as you pushed yourself away from his desk, and his brows furrowed in slight confusion. You surged forward, grabbing him by the collar and tugging him toward you for a kiss, which he happily reciprocated, albeit with curiosity. 

“What was that for?” He could tell you’d broken character, just by the way your body language had shifted. 

“Sorry to break character, I just love you so much and I’m really enjoying this so far,” you said with a sheepish glance cast toward him. 

His large, warm hand slid lovingly along your forearm. “I love you too, sweetheart. I’m having a great time, too.” 

Another kiss before you finally pulled away, giggling slightly as you shook your head. “Okay, okay. Back to what we were doing!”

He cleared his throat, snapping out of his lovesick daze. “Yes, yes, of course.”

You took a deep breath and melted back into your college student persona, with Ben watching in awe as you did so. 

“What would you like me to do, sir?” Hands clasped in front of you. Eyes downcast. 

He breathed in deeply. When he spoke, his voice took on a low tone. He patted his thigh and said, “Come kneel for me.”

Obediently, you lowered yourself to your knees, and you didn’t miss the way his mouth parted in surprise as you crawled the rest of the way to him. Only a few feet, but nonetheless it made his breath hitch in his chest. 

And there you knelt, your hands resting atop your thighs, looking at him expectantly. It took a moment for his mouth to catch up to his brain. 

“Good girl,” he managed. Then he leaned forward, beckoning you closer. “Think you can undo my belt yourself, or do you need my help?”

“I can do it.” Eagerly, you reached out, unbuckling his leather belt. You made quick work of the button on his pants, followed by the zipper. God, you were almost salivating at the thought of having him in your mouth. 

Ben lifted his hips slightly and let you tug his pants and underwear down. You wasted no time in yanking them completely down his legs and discarding them somewhere on the floor, to give yourself as much room as possible. 

When you looked up again, there it was. His hard cock, heavy and already leaking, flushed tip sticky with arousal. He wrapped his thick fingers around the shaft, adorned with intricate veins, framed by a gathering of dark hair at the base. 

The head was swollen, and its pink shade reminded you so much of his sweet, small mouth that you so badly wanted to kiss. But you’d have to pull away from him to do that. Instead, you bring him to your lips, kissing gently, softly, tongue darting out to taste his salty musk. 

Letting your eyes flutter shut, you took his cock in your palm and nuzzled against it, silky softness brushing against your skin. His wetness streaked across your cheek, over your lips, delightfully slick. 

Ben watched you, his hands now gripping the wooden handles of his chair. He couldn’t think of anything to say because his brain was white noise. How beautiful you looked, practically worshiping him, like this.  

Soft kisses left against the pulsing shaft, down to the base of him, over the heavy weight of his balls. If you weren’t careful, you’d lose yourself, and entirely drop the role play you’d so carefully planned out. 

“Your cock is so pretty, sir,” you confessed, open-mouthed against him. 

He grunted softly, once again wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. “You think so?” Fingers stroking lightly against your cheek before he nudged his hips forward. “Go ahead, suck it.”

There was the slightest commanding tone to his voice, and it sent a pulse of burning desire between your thighs. He certainly didn’t have to tell you twice. 

You lifted your head and swirled your tongue around his tip once more, before you closed your lips around him, humming in delight. 

Instinctively, his hand settled at the back of your head, guiding, but not pushing, as you take him deeper inside your mouth, lips stretching. “Oh, oh fuck me,” he hissed, hips shifting, fighting so hard not to abruptly thrust upward and catch you off guard. “Thats…that’s good. So good.”

Pleased, you let out a hum, which vibrated deliciously around him and made him shudder. He watched in amazement as you went further down, tongue swirling against his thickness, saliva dripping down to his balls. 

You pulled off him to catch your breath, your mouth wet with drool. “Am I doing a good job, Professor Mears?”

Good lord, you’d be the death of him. “Yes. Yes, honey. You’re doing excellent.”

With a satisfied smile, you dove back in, this time pressing your tongue to the underside of his tip, right against his frenulum. He gasped, head lolling back, Adam’s apple bobbing. 

As your hand worked the rest of him that wasn’t in your mouth, his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. You knew how sensitive he was there, right at the tip. How it made him feel like a goddamn live wire, crackling with electricity. 

“C-christ!” He cursed, knuckles white against the arms of the chair. His hips thrust forward, and you caught the rest of him in your mouth. 

In a moment of intensity, he lost control and slid to the back of your throat without warning. You gagged around him, drooling even more. You heard him swear, and in an instant, he pulled you off him. “Sorry, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to catch you by surprise,” he breathlessly apologized, “you okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I’m fine,” you assured him, squeezing his thigh. You emphasized your point by leaving a kiss against his cock. 

Breathing slightly labored, his eyes narrowed before he suddenly pulled you upright. He was laying you across his desk in one fluid movement, rising to stand over you. 

“As much as I love your mouth, I’m interested to know what your sweet pussy feels like,” came his murmur, as he hovered over you. 

You let your legs fall open, and he looked down, breath hitching in his chest at the sight of you, already glistening with the evidence of your desire. He wanted nothing more than to sink into you, but first, he needed to make sure there was adequate space on the desk. 

He pulled back to move his typewriter aside, and he pushed anything else out of the way, so you could fully spread out comfortably. Then, he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, his hair ruffling. He shoved a hand through tousled locks before he was back between your open legs. 

“Let’s get you naked, honey. Let me see this beautiful body of yours.” Careful hands unbuttoned your top. He was tempted to yank it open and send the buttons flying, but thought better of it when he pictured you having to sew each individual button back on. 

The blouse was soon discarded, sliding off the desk and onto the floor below. Your skirt, however, remained in place, but Ben shoved it up over your hips to give him full access to what awaited between them. 

Meanwhile, you were entirely distracted, gazing longingly at his cock, bobbing heavily as he moved. It was going to fill you so nicely. Your cunt pulsed in anticipation. 

“Pretty little thing,” Ben cooed, palms soothing over your inner thighs. “The thought of getting fucked by your professor has you so wet, doesn’t it?” 

You shivered. “Yes. God, yes.”

Wandering fingers tenderly parted your folds, and warmth blossomed in your lower belly at the feeling of his touch. 

He gripped his cock. “You want this?” Knowing glint in his eyes. 

“Please!”

“Say it.”

“I-I want you to fuck me.”

With the raise of a brow, he tilted your chin up. “No. I want you to admit it. What do you want? Who do you want?”

You felt as if you were going to melt under the heat of his gaze. Suddenly this silly little role play felt so real. As if you were actually his student who’d spent the entire semester lusting after him, and were now going to get what you’d been hoping for. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as your next words left your mouth. “I want my professor’s cock.”

Your heart rate quickened. The temperature of the room seemed to rise fifty degrees. You couldn’t look at him. It was too much. Too intense. Too—

“Hey.” Comforting hands holding your face. Coaxing your eyes open. Asking you to look at him. When you looked into that shocking blue, you began to relax. “You still with me, sweetheart?” Tone gentle. Even. 

You managed a smile and a nod. “Yes. Keep going, please.”

A sweet kiss to your lips before he dropped his hands and melted right back into character.

“I’ll give it to you. But if we do this, I think we both know it's not just going to be a one-time thing. You’re going to come to my class day in and day out, wearing your short little skirts, flashing your naked pussy at me. And you’re going to end up bent over my desk again and again, begging for more. So that bears the question: are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’m sure. I’ve never wanted anything so badly. I just want to know what your cock feels like inside me.” 

The way you looked at him, eyes wide and pleading, had his head spinning. “And you’ll get it.” He was surging forward to kiss you then, mouth hot and open against yours, the lingering taste of his own cock meeting his tongue as it delved into your mouth. 

His fingers were back between your thighs again, trailing through honeyed slickness, smearing it over your tender flesh. When the pads of his fingers swirled over your sensitive little gathering of nerve endings, you gasped sharply against his lips. 

Then he was dipping his middle finger inside you, deeper and deeper, until he was brushing against the spot that made your toes curl. He couldn’t help but smile at your reaction. A choked moan and a jolt of your hips. When he added a second finger, your eyes blurred with tears and your head fell back.

They slotted inside you so nicely, and he knew exactly how much pressure to apply. He had your body memorized. He couldn’t pretend like he didn’t, not even for this scene. It was engrained in him as deeply and intrinsically as his own DNA. 

He could feel you growing wetter by the minute, soaking his digits, and his cock twitched. God, he couldn’t wait to be inside you. It didn’t matter how many times he fucked you. Nor did it matter that he’d only just had you the night before. It never changed how it felt when he first slid inside you. The sensation of your anatomy stretching around him, inviting him inside, was indescribable. 

He knew he couldn’t wait another minute. So he withdrew his hand from you, soothing your whine of protest as he wrapped his slick hand around his cock, using your arousal as lubricant. Then he aligned himself with you, and your legs fell open further, granting him full access.

“I want you to say, ‘Please fuck me, Professor Mears.’”

His expression had darkened slightly. As the sun sank below the horizon, stealing the golden light away, a shadow fell upon his face. With his brow set hard, and his eyes narrow, it seemed as if he was about to devour you whole. And you would let him.

“Please fuck me, Professor Mears,” you heard yourself obediently speak, tone soft and sweet. 

“Mm, so well-mannered,” he hummed. The plush head of his cock caught against your opening. With his free hand, he held your face, urging you to look at him. “I bet you’d do anything I asked of you, just to have this inside you.”

“Anything,” you admitted.

“Later on we’ll have to test that theory out.” His voice was wrecked. He simply couldn’t draw this out any longer. So he took hold of your hips, keeping you steady as he thrust forward. Slowly at first, because he wanted to relish in the feeling. 

You squeaked slightly, one hand clamping over your mouth, the other moving to grasp the edge of the desk. The way he filled you was otherworldly. The initial stretch resulted in a strangely comforting, pinchy ache that soon gave way to complete and utter satisfaction. He was not lacking by any means; satisfying and thick, but not so much so that it hurt. You wished you had the words to describe how it felt, but nothing could come close. All you knew was that having him seated so deeply within you made your heart sing.

His voice was in your ear then, swirling through your head like hazy smoke from the pipes he liked to puff on after dinner each night. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels.” That was Ben, always wanting your verbal praise, eager to please and make you feel the most pleasure possible.

“So good, sir. Oh, you feel incredible.” You were surprised you had it in yourself to even speak. You weren’t lying, either. The way he angled his hips and filled you so nicely made you feel this all-encompassing bliss, that was almost like being bathed in sunlight and glitter.

Grunting softly, mouth open, he let his forehead rest against your own. But his gaze was focused on the place where your bodies met. The way your pretty cunt swallowed every inch of him. “We…we shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, the idea of this moment being risky and taboo sending a delicious surge of arousal though him. “I could lose my job, if anyone found out about this.”

“I-I know,” you peeped, eyes screwed shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he began to move. Slowly at first, finding his rhythm.

His hand was holding your jaw again, mouth against yours as he spoke. “Can you imagine what they’d say, if they walked in and saw me balls deep in one of my students?”

You tried to reply, but your voice died in your throat as he offered a particularly deep thrust that punched the breath right out of your lungs. Your back arched off the desk, and you trembled, feeling like a rope that had just been pulled taut.

But he continued anyway, words pouring from his tongue and caressing your skin like velvet. “They’d say I couldn’t control myself. And they’d be right.” A low groan rumbled in his chest. “Your sweet little pussy feels so good that I just can’t help myself.”

You clenched around him, and he could feel you dripping, slick trailing down his shaft. He knew the effect his dirty talk had on you, he could see it in the way your eyes had gone unfocused and your mouth was hanging open. 

He spoke again, which was no surprise, because he always found that when he was inside you, he was more prone to rambling. He couldn’t help himself. That brain of his was always working, even when he was enveloped in a warm, wet pussy. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want them to see. Want them to know what a dirty slut you are for your professor.”

“Ye-yes! Yes!” You cried out, barely coherent. Goodness gracious, he was hitting it so deep, and he hadn’t even picked up the pace yet. How were you already losing your ability to speak?

“Say it.” Punctuated by the heavy drag of his cock against your sensitive walls.

“I’m a slut for my professor.” You could barely utter the words, they sounded so ridiculously sinful on your own tongue. 

His hips stuttered and he lurched forward, hands pressed against the desk to steady himself. Forehead pressed against yours, he fought to keep his composure. How could he be expected to keep it together when he had you like this? So pliant and willing to do anything he asked of you. 

After taking a moment to steady himself, he tilted his face and kissed you deeply, hand coming up to the back of your head while the other fell to hold your hip. 

You whimpered, gripping at his shoulders, fingers pressing into muscled flesh. Ben hissed lowly, setting a deliberate pace that sent you writhing against the desk. Heavy rolls of his hips, deeper and deeper, so you could feel every single inch of him, dragging against that sensitive, spongy spot within you. 

The room soon filled with the harsh sounds of skin against skin, followed by the obscene squelch of your wetness. Surely you were dripping onto the surface below you, but neither of you could be bothered to care, not when pleasure was beginning to cloud your senses and primal need took over. 

“Look at yourself.” He guided you to look down at the place where he disappeared inside you. Stretched to capacity around his cock. The sight had your eyes rolling back. 

You mewled pathetically, abdomen tensing as he offered a particularly jarring thrust that sent you gushing around him. Ben gasped sharply and brought a hand between your legs, the pads of each digit pressed into your puffy, aching, clit. 

A spark had been ignited within you, fizzling and popping, spreading through your veins. Soon, it would turn into a wildfire, consuming you whole. Burning hotter and brighter with each pulse if his hips against yours. 

“Oh, oh my god, sir, I��” Words left your mouth involuntarily. Breathless, unsure of what you were trying to even say. Mind cloudy. Swirling. Whirling. Spinning out of control. 

Your lungs filled with oxygen as you took in harsh, labored breaths. He was knocking the wind out of you. Taking you apart piece by piece. 

Your body undulated beneath him, muscles in your thighs shivering like leaves in the autumn wind. Oh, you were already close. You could feel it. Building in the very core of your being, like an energy field thrumming in the center of the earth. 

Mouth open. When did Ben’s find yours again? You had no recollection, but there he was, kissing you lewdly. Tongue sliding past parted lips. The sound of your moans and whimpers mingling with his own. 

His fingers still working against your most sensitive parts, cock pistoning in and out of you relentlessly. You were going to float straight up to the ceiling, it seemed. Perhaps you might even go past it, up into the clouds, and into outer space. With the way you saw stars behind your eyes when you squeezed them shut, it felt like you were already there. 

Right there, right there, right there. Just like that. Yes, yes, yes. Don’t stop, don’t ever stop. 

Then his face was in your line of sight, his brow furrowed, mouth parted, hair falling into his eyes. Veins creased in his forehead, and he trembled from the intensity, mouth curled in an almost snarl. “I-I can feel you squeezing me, honey. You’re dripping. Just…gah, just let go, come for me. Come all over your professor’s cock.”

His words sent you plummeting over the edge. It hit you hard and fast, engulfing you, consuming you, devouring you. You heard yourself cry out his name, but it sounded disembodied, as if you were far away from yourself. 

Pulsing, trembling, muscles taut as the delicious pleasure washed over you. You buried your face against his shoulder and let yourself be as loud as you needed. There was no one around for miles. No one to hear you sob your lover’s name as he fucked you through your orgasm. 

As the molten bliss surged through you from head to toe, it seemed to last an eternity, but at the same time you were coming down from it quickly. Head clearing. Eyes refocusing. Ringing in your ears fading away. 

And there was Ben, fighting to stave off the inevitable, to keep himself together because he wanted to admire you as you came down from the throes of ecstasy. Letting out a choked, breathless moan, he fell forward, hand coming out to catch himself, braced against the desk. 

He was thoroughly surprised he’d managed to keep it together while you fell apart, spasming around his cock, evidence of your release dripping down the shaft. 

He found his voice after a moment, nuzzling his nose against yours as he spoke. “So good. Did so good for me,” came his praise. He didn’t miss the delighted smile that warmed your face. 

“Felt really good,” you said with a giggle, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

You involuntarily tightened around him as you laughed, and it pulled a grunt from his throat. “Honey, I…”

You wrapped your legs around his waist. “I know. Keep going, please. I can take it, Professor Mears.”

His lashes fluttered, eyes going unfocused for a moment. “Fuck, okay. I’ll give it to you, all of it.” 

Another desperate kiss to your mouth before he gripped your hips in his strong hands, holding you exactly where he wanted you, grip firm as he began moving again. 

What followed could only be described as using you for his own pleasure. Deep, deliberate thrusts into your slick, sensitive pussy. With each press forward, you could feel his pubic bone brush against your swollen clit, coarse hair only heightening the stimulation. 

Everything was so heightened. Overwhelming, almost. But you wanted nothing more than to feel him spill inside you, and you weren’t about to tell him to stop. So you held on for dead life, tears streaming down your cheeks as he fucked you into into the desk. 

He was losing himself. If you weren’t so delirious, you might’ve taken time to admire him. Silvery curls falling into his face. Forehead glimmering with perspiration. Jaw hard set. 

Then he was burying his face against your neck, rutting into you still, rambling about how good you felt. “Feel so fuckin’ good. You’re so wet, oh Christ your pussy feels incredible, honey. Oh, I’m so close. So—ah!—close!”

Somewhere along the way you found the wherewithal to meet his frenzied thrusts, pushing up into him, chasing the heat that had begun to spread throughout your body again, duller this time, yet somehow still so intense. 

“Wh-where so you want me to come?” Voice pinched, barely able to force the words out of his mouth. “Please honey, I’m…I need to…” Nearly sobbing. 

Throwing your head back, you let out a soft cry. “Oh! Please, please come inside me, sir!”

You knew he was so close. Could feel it in the way his cock pulsed inside you, swelling slightly from the intensity of his own desire. 

You forced yourself to open your eyes, and your gaze locked with his. His lashes fluttered. Tears gathered in his waterline. “Please, I wa-wanna be full of your cum, Mr. Mears.” 

That was his undoing. 

“Oh that’s it, that’s it.” Shaft pumping inside you, hips pressed tightly to yours so he could give you all of it. Your eyes fluttered shut and a drunk smile tugged across your mouth as you relished in the heat of his release spreading inside your fluttering cunt. 

Sated. Whole. Complete. 

“Thank you, professor,” you slurred.

His body fell lax against yours, chest heaving, head still spinning from the rush of euphoria he had just experienced. He could feel the warmth of his cum beginning to spill around the edges of his softening cock, dripping out of you. Gravity at work. 

Lifting his head, he gave you a sheepish smile, his cheeks pink. “Jeez. That was incredible, honey.” And then, a sweet kiss to your lips. “You feeling alright?”

Mirroring his elation, you nodded, arms sliding around his neck. “Oh I feel wonderful.” Another kiss. “That was even more fun than I thought it would be. We definitely need to do that again.”

Still red in the face, Ben hummed, eyes downcast. “I, uh, I’m slightly ashamed to say what hearing you call me professor did to me.”

You began toying with his soft curls. “No shame here, Benny. You know what happens between us stays between us.”

“I know.” He nuzzled his nose against yours. “I’m glad we started exploring these fantasies. Scratches an itch I didn’t realize I had.”

“Me too,” you wholeheartedly agreed. You couldn’t wait to begin exploring other scenarios to roleplay. Until then, you were much too spent to even consider drawing out your escapades. You had a feeling you would be struggling to walk once you got down off his desk. 

Ben’s hands coming up to cup your face pulled your thoughts back to him. “I love you, sweetheart. You’re so good to me.”

“I love you too.” A moment of tenderness while basking in the afterglow.

But all too soon, it was time to get cleaned up. Gently, tenderly, he eased himself out of you, lashes fluttering as he admired the way a milky white trail of his seed followed. 

“Let’s go get cleaned up, alright?” He had to snap out of it, otherwise he’d be asking for round two, and he knew you both needed some recovery time. 

Arm around your waist, he guided you out of the office and to the hallway bathroom. There, you shared the intimate act of cleaning each other up. A display of reverence to the other’s body, a display of gratitude for the pleasure experienced. 

You decided to take a bath together after the fact, and it wasn’t long before you were both enveloped in the comfortably hot water, naked bodies pressed together as you enjoyed a moment of non-sexual closeness. 

“You’re too good to me, my lovely. Thanks for entertaining my little fantasies,” Ben spoke, tone low and smooth, lips pressed against your bare shoulder. 

You leaned back, searching for his lips, pressing yours to them before you replied. “You know I’m more than happy to,” you assured him. 

It felt so good to enjoy this moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. After all you had been through, you were finally living the sweet, slow life you’d always wanted to live together. Exploring fantasies. Enjoying one another’s company. Laughing and talking and deepening your bond. 

Oh, how at peace you were. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

[sitp-recs]

Hi Sitp! As always thanks for the recs!! Can you rec anything for the real unhinged Draco or Harry? ;>

Hi anon, you’re very welcome! Love me some unhinged Drarry 👌🏼 I hope you enjoy these!

Basement Level 9 by @fw00shy (M, 2k)

Draco was behind the bomb that blew up Level 10, though they didn't talk about it.

Magpie by @corvuscrowned (E, 4k)

Potter doesn't steal because he needs anything, Draco quickly learns. He doesn't do it because it makes him feel anything. It isn't about power, and it isn't about control. Potter just does it because he can.

The Thousand Deaths by @corvuscrowned (E, 6k)

When the Kedavras don’t work, they try wooden stakes. When the stakes don’t work, they try blades. When the blades don’t work, the truth spills between them like the vast, churning ocean — eternity, inescapable.

A Cold Spot in Hell by @drarrytrash (E, 8k)

When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire. If you wanted 8k of sexy arson, emotionally difficult arson, general arson, handkerchiefs, dread, and poetry curation, now is really your moment.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

Violent Delights by primaveracerezos (E, 20k)

Draco Malfoy's life should be going very well. He's engaged to a wonderful man and in line for the Head Auror job. He's been made lead investigator on a serial murder case, trying to figure out who is killing off the scum of the wizarding world, one by one.

The Matchmaker's Spell by @kbrick (E, 21k)

Thanks to a spell cast over all of wizarding Britain, Draco is forced to marry Harry Potter, who still hates him. But Draco refuses to live a cold, sexless existence, choosing to fill the emptiness in his life and his bed with a parade of lovers. And while Harry may not be able to stand Draco, he despises seeing him with anyone else.

Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by @hoko-onchi-writes (E, 24k)

When the DMLE assigned Harry to watch Draco, Harry’s interest ramped up. He wanked so much that first year he tore a muscle in his upper arm. It was all sexual at first. But with time, Harry’s feelings deepened. Draco was clever, well-informed, viciously funny. He stopped to pet dogs on the street and looked after his neighbour’s cat. He took an art course at a Muggle uni and opened his own gallery. He was smart and sharp; ambitious.

The Good Guys by Frayach (E, 26k)

The Second Voldemort War is limping into its fourth year, and the Forces of Shining Light are slowly turning into the Forces of Expedient Grey. When Draco Malfoy is captured red-handed trying to sell an illegal potion to a clerk at Borgin & Burkes, he is handed over to the Department of Essential and Necessary Truth’s newest interrogator. And as soon as he sees Malfoy, bound and waiting in his cell, Harry Potter knows he’s in trouble. Deep trouble.

Fearful Trill by @vukovich (E, 29k)

Harry should have come out and met someone when he was younger. He should have seen a doctor about the pain in his hip while youth was still on his side. Now, he's made his peace with dying young, but maybe not with dying alone.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

as an adult do you think there are any little habits or things that voldemort retains from his youth?

In a way, yeah, I'm sure he does.

The way we grow up affects us, and I think you'll find a lot of people retain certain habits from a very young age. I mean, people are, for the most part, creatures of habit. We like to have a schedule we follow every day.

Voldemort is a perfectionist, always was. And I don't think anyone would argue he doesn't have obsessive tendencies. So it's incredibly likely he had certain 'ceremonies' he did every day before going to bed or something like that. Like, the order of things and the way he does things being perfectly replicated every day. The thing is when it comes to little habits like that we don't really see him have any. Like, we don't know much about his eating habits, or what he does before bed or to relax or anything like that. We just don't really have that information.

But with his personality, he probably does have pretty rigid patterns in his day. Besides being used to it from the orphanage and Hogwarts, both of which had pretty rigid schedules. Old habits die hard, and all that.

What habits I can actually point at and say he probably does that... well, there aren't many because we just don't know. But this is what I have to offer:

We know he likes collecting things. Both as a child and later with his Horcruxes. I'd say working in Borgins and Burkes was definitely a decision connected to his appreciation of collecting rare magical artifacts to study. And it makes sense he'd like to have things, considering he grew up with basically nothing to his name. Especially nice things.

He most likely reads a lot, as a young child, a Hogwarts student, and an adult, since it goes hand in hand with studying magic. And it was probably one of the only things he could do at the orphanage to pass the time since he wasn't really playing with the other children there.

We also know younger Tom had a diary, so he might have used it for journalling before he turned it into a Horcrux. Considering he has a strong sentimental connection to his other chosen Horcruxes, I'd go on a limb and say he wrote in it before making it one. He is dorky enough for that (the diary would be under various privacy spells, obviously). We don't know if he still journals, but I'm sure he at least writes down all his magical research and experiments somewhere. He won't be a proper academic otherwise.

I think someone like Tom would honestly find comfort in something like journaling, it's structured, completely controllable, and predictable. It's something a young Tom Riddle could do that is just his and only he chooses when and what he wrote. Also, as no one else sees it, there is no failing it. Also, he has the dramatic flare for writing overly formal journal entries at the age of 11 (he's still dramatic, so that didn't change). So, I think this is a likely habit for the younger Tom that the older one continued, if for different purposes.

Not really a habit, but he's very suspicious of others and their intentions. He shows as much in his meeting with Dumbledore, that is definitely a behavior he retains. As an adult, he is just as suspicious and keeps everyone at arm's length.

Like, if we look just at behavior, he shares a lot with his younger self from the orphanage, deep down he is that same orphan raging at the world and wanting control and power he never had. I wrote a whole series about his personality and mentioned it there. But, that's more behavior than habits, so I don't think it counts.

Sorry, I can't offer you more habits. Unfortunately, there is a lack of book evidence on what Voldemort does in his free time when he isn't trying to kill Harry Potter...

[swanfan17]

Tom Burke played "Bluey" in the 2008 movie "Donkey Punch".

In my opinion a rather uneasy mix of youth movie, porn and horror....

Youtube video with interesting interview😉

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Rachel Leingang at The Guardian:

Donald Trump wants to shut down the US Department of Education, saying at recent rallies that it should be disbanded to “move everything back to the states where it belongs”. The idea of dismantling the education department has become increasingly mainstream, though it’s nearly as old as the department itself, which was created by Congress as a cabinet-level agency in 1979. Trump made similar promises on the 2016 campaign trail to either cut or hobble the department.

Eliminating it would require Congress to act, which could be an impossible feat, though several of Trump and his allies’ policy goals on education could be accomplished through presidential actions. Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation’s rightwing manifesto for a potential incoming Trump administration, lays out how dismantling the federal education department would work, leaving behind, if anything, a husk focused solely as a “statistics-gathering agency that disseminates information to the states”, writes Lindsey Burke, the author of the education chapter and leader of Heritage’s education policy center. The department’s elimination is one of many goals contained in the extensive conservative playbook that will inform a second Trump term. Project 2025 calls for privatizing education and driving out any programs related to LGBTQ+ youth or diversity.

[...]

Trump tells voters on his campaign site a few ways he would manage education:

Cut federal funding for schools that are “pushing critical race theory or gender ideology on our children” and open civil rights investigations into them for race-based discrimination.

End access for trans youth to sports.

Create a body that will certify teachers who “embrace patriotic values”.

Reward districts that get rid of teacher tenure.

Adopt a parents’ bill of rights.

Implement direct elections of school principals by parents.

[...]

The project proposes phasing out one major program, Title I, over a 10-year period. The $18bn funding source supports low-income students. Instead, the project says states “should assume decision-making control over how to provide a quality education to children from low-income families”.

“Phasing that out is going to be very detrimental to that population of students who are already vulnerable for many reasons,” James said. The Heritage Foundation also wants to eliminate Head Start, a program that funds early childhood education for low-income families, because it is “fraught with scandal and abuse”, according to a chapter on the Department of Health and Human Services. The Center for American Progress says in a new report that eliminating Head Start would reduce access and increase costs for childcare, hurting economic stability. Beyond these major funding changes, the project – and Trump – both want to see expansions of school choice, like voucher programs that allow students to use money that would otherwise fund their seats at public schools to attend a private ones. Trump has said that he supports universal school choice, or the ability of any student to use taxpayer funds to attend whatever school they want. Trump also has a video on his campaign site dedicated to how he would help home-schooling families. [...]

LGBTQ+ and diversity issues attacked

Anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-diversity policies are sprinkled throughout the education recommendations in Project 2025 and in Trump’s platform. The project also supports passing a parents’ bill of rights to give parents more access to classroom materials.

The project proposes ridding education programs of any “gender ideology and critical race theory”, like a “non-binary” category in data collection or the ability of trans youth to participate in sports aligned with their gender. It also calls for parental approval for the use of names or pronouns other than those on birth certificates. And it wants to gut protections against discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity. Project 2025 suggests the federal government put anti-LGBTQ+ policies in place in the schools it oversees as a way to set an example to state and local leaders. As examples of what the project considers “critical race theory” that should be abolished, it mentions “mandatory affinity groups”, training programs for teachers that require them to “confess their privilege” or assignments in which “students must defend the false idea that America is systemically racist”. These activities are “actively disrupting the values that hold communities together such as equality under the law and colorblindness”.

Attacks on the Department of Education are a key part of the radical right-wing Project 2025 playbook, and also Donald Trump’s.

They both want to radically reshape public schooling, such as dramatic cuts to special education and Head Start, institute a certification body for certifying teachers who “embrace patriotic values” (aka MAGA values), and eliminating LGBTQ+ protections.

[beatingheart-bride]

By the time the four of them made their way down to the ballroom, it was already beginning to come to life: the bal de masque was set to begin at any time, and eager spirits had already began to file into the ballroom, not wishing to miss any of the action. The entire ballroom was intricately decorated, servants worked fastidiously at getting refreshments on the tables, and volunteers worked to set up a number of games around the room. The graveyard band had set themselves up in the front of the room alongside the singing busts, who were hard at work warming up prior to their performance.

But the Paces had some distance between themselves and the action: as always, Dorian had had a corner of the ballroom roped off solely for Lon's and Erika's birthday celebration. There was a table long enough to seat the entire family, a second table for any gifts the twins received (and they'd receive many: they always made out like bandits, with many of their fellow spirits coming over bearing a gift and well-wishes for the children on their big day), and plenty of balloons in the shape of bats and jack-o-lanterns bundled together in the corner of the room, standing out from the other decorations. As always, Dorian had pulled out all of the stops to ensure his godchildren had an excellent birthday celebration.

After Randall, Emily and the twins settled at the table, it wasn't long until the rest of the family arrived, each with gifts in tow that they left upon the table.

"Can we open presents now?" Lon pleaded, unable to sit still in his seat, prompting Emily to softly chuckle as she rested a loving palm atop his shoulder.

"Not yet: you know we always open gifts after dinner. You and your sister can open your gifts before we cut the cake."

@beatingheart-bride

"You got breakfast in bed, Mama?" Lon asked in surprise (he thought you only got to eat in bed when you were sick!), to which Randall replied, "She sure did. See, Grandpa Wil used to make Grandma June breakfast in bed for her birthday and Mother's Day, and she used to make him breakfast in bed for his birthday and Father's Day, so I thought it'd be nice to do the same."

Thinking about it, he realized he had a couple of very fuzzy memories when it came to these breakfasts; remembering vaguely helping his parents when he was very small, in particular his father...he couldn't remember if it was June's birthday or Mother's Day, he just recalled, however hazily, toddling around with a little vase in his hands, trailing after his father as they entered the bedroom, and his mother kissing his cheek when he presented her with the flower...

Leaving this hazy memory behind, he smiled as he recalled, "I got better at baking after that incident-we used to make little king cakes together for Mardi Gras; we never had anything hidden in them, of course, but they were still lots of fun to make and decorate."

Knowing all about the delights of king cake and other Mardi Gras cuisine (especially since Mardi Gras was such a major holiday at the Mansion; Uncle Dori and Aunt Lizzie wouldn't have it any other way), the twins lit up at this, only for Erika to then falter, asking, "Will...will Grandpa August and Grandma Josie come back for Mardi Gras?"

"And what about Christmas? And Thanksgiving?" Lon asked, their gleeful smiles having been replaced by a sense of uncertainty, an uncertainty Randall could see plain as day, and it made him sigh: In some ways, it seemed so unfair that these new families only have so little time to spend with the children before they went home...he understood, of course, but he hated to see the little ones so disappointed at the prospect of these new faces disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

Still, Randall tried to put on a brave face for the pair, reassuring them, "I'm sure that they will. I don't think they'd miss it for the world."

[zibiscusloon]

🍕 Those Meddling Kids ! 🍕

👇 Headcanons for these fools 👇

Marlene “Marla” Setiawan

-The resident mom friend

-Very huggable

-Loves PDA

-She later on became the legal guardian of her younger brother Jason at age 24 after the passing of their parents

-Pansexual, cis fem, she/her

-Works as a undertaker at Hurricane Cemetery, she takes regular care of Charlie’s headstone.

Jessica Moreau

-Brains & beauty

-Frequently travels

-Works as a forensic scientist for the Hurricane Police Department (although she is often reached out to by other departments due to her stellar work)

-She & Carlton were Charlie’s best friends, she still missed Charlie to this day..

-Lesbian asexual, cis fem, she/her

Lamar Asher

-Got the hell on out of Hurricane. Smart move.

-He began work as a child therapist after moving to New Jersey. He remains in college to work towards expanding his knowledge of psychology.

-Keeps contact with all his friends despite their distance. Him and Marla keep the most in check.

-Demiromantic asexual, demiboy, he/they

Jonathan “John” Connors

-Resident sad lad

-A poet and writer in the Hurricane community

-Able to easily read the feelings of others. He’s jokingly called a aura reader by the gang.

-Had a small childhood crush on Charlie that never went anywhere due to their untimely death.

-Pansexual, cis male, he/him

Carlton Burke

-A golden retriever embodied

-Charlie, Jessica, and Michi’s best friend.

-Him and Michi are dating and live together in a small apartment

-The local homebody, he works at a grocery store as a simple calm job. He and his father frequently clash due to Carlton’s decision to not join the police force.

-Bisexual, cis male, he/him

Michael “Michi” Brooks

-Suprise! She’s alive!

-He was almost killed during his youth, as Afton had initially preyed on him as a potential target. However, he decided against that as she was frequently around her parents.

-Works as a artist for commission, frequently painting murals in honor of the missing children, including her best friend Charlie.

-Set up a scholarship in honor of the missing kids, focusing on helping students who seek out roles in education, psychology, and helping out victims of abuse.

-Demiromantic bisexual, bigender, she/he

[capriddle]

Voldemort Vs Grindelwald

I often see fans wondering who is more powerful between Voldemort and Grindelwald. Honestly, I have never asked myself this question because the answer seems too obvious to me. First of all, Voldemort is defined as the greatest dark wizard of all time, which would be enough to close the question but I will try to address it in points:

1 Magical Abilities: We know Grindelwald was a great wizard, sure, but could he have created 7 horcruxes? Would he be able to create an Inferi army? Would he be able to create a killing curse for Dumbledore too or a potion that he couldn't counteract? Would he have been able to fly without support? The point goes to Voldemort.

2 Confrontation with Dumbledore: Grindelwald faces Dumbledore in 1945, in a duel that remains in history, where he loses. Then he had the allegiance of the Elder Wand, and was up against an experienced but relatively young wizard. Voldemort duels with Dumbledore years later, when the latter had the allegiance of the wand. Dumbledore fails to defeat him. I've heard many say it's because Dumbledore was older, but magic doesn't work like that, you gain experience over time, so Dumbledore was even stronger than when he fought Grindelwald. Another point for Voldemort.

3 School: It may seem superfluous but Grindelwald was expelled from school, so he had less time to learn magic from professionals. Tom, as we know, was a model student, whose value was recognized by all. He again defeats Voldemort.

Bonus, Charisma: I've heard a lot of people define Grindelwald as more charismatic after seeing Fantastic Beasts. I'm not saying it's not true, just that they shouldn't be so quick to judge Grindelwald as more charismatic. First of all because we did not see Voldemort in the recruitment period, but only in the post Harry Potter period. In any case, we have addresses. First he gets the support of most pureblood families, despite being a halfblood himself, then he gets followed by various notoriously dangerous magical creatures such as giants and dementors. In his youth, when he chose to focus on his charm, he had the whole of Hogwarts at his feet and when he worked at Borgin and Burkes all the most particular clients were entrusted to him. He managed to approach Helena Ravenclaw, who was certainly known for her open character. And, finally, even when she was in Albania without a body he managed to get Raptor on her side. If this isn't charisma!

So, to conclude, for me Voldemort is undoubtedly more powerful and in an equal duel he would certainly win against Grindelwald.

[azures-grace]

MEEEEEE I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT LISSY AND MOIRAS RELATIONSHIP

Ok so

Feloira. Moiicity, if you will.

Do I think it's the greatest ship I've ever made? No. Do I like it anyway? Yea....

It's not permanent, and I think they'd break up right before her dad dies. Technically right before she goes to help her dad rebuild project purity. But it wouldn't be anything but amicable, just a sort of, "hey I don't know if this will work very well, my emotional load just changed a lot and I don't want to dump anything on you about it" or like. They never actually got together and just kinda flirted and stuff.

Felicity is NOTORIOUSLY bad at realizing she's flirting. Girly is like, "lol I love my stupid jokes" and then later is like, "OH WAIT--" see also: Burke ajdndnjxjf

Felicity gets VERY attached to Moira because she's one of the only people who's genuine with Lissy. Or at least 70x less unfriendly than half the residents.

Lissy went through the survival guide using the charisma options. While yes, it's mostly in-game like, "omg I had to talk my way out of all this", I THINK LISSY'D BE FLIRTING THERE. Knowingly flirting, no less.

Yes, this probably all starts as Felicity misunderstanding Moira just being nice, but like. Girly crushes HARDDDD.

There's a lot of physical closeness between them, especially since Moira's teaching her how to use both her inventions and also general technical stuff. They're sitting next to each other in front of a frag mine so Lissy can learn how to disarm them before going to the minefield in the part I'm writing rn. Lots of hugging and shared excitement. Lissy looooves making people happy (she plays a lot with the mini-boomers in 2281 and spends waay too much time being a chronic people pleaser. This is definitely not a coping mechanism in response to being targeted by half the vault in her youth noooo...)

Anyways, I think Felicity probably kisses Moira approximately once, and that's after the guide gets finished, and they never speak of it again. But they think about it....

I also think Moira reminds Felicity A LOT of Amata. In appearance, if nothing else. They get along really well, and Felicity's kind of like. Stuck in like. Internalized homophobia. She's a little desperate to express her attraction to women and whelp. Here's the first one she meets and gets along with.

Is it very healthy? Ehhh. It could be a LOT worse **COUGH COUGH BENITHY** but like... It's not exactly very two-sided? It's more of Felicity having a massive crush on Moira and Moira being unaware for the most part. But I think they're interesting...

They come away from all of it with a VERY solid and strong friendship, and that's a Good Thing in my opinion.

[chdarling]

I was re-reading TLE1 and I remember this:

"“I know Walburga,” said Mrs. Potter darkly. “She was briefly engaged to a cousin of mine, as a matter of fact. I say briefly because he ran off and married a Muggle instead”

Sirius’s jaw dropped"

My jaw dropped too. I want to know more about this story. Did wally like this guy? Who was him? Where did he meet the muggle? How were wally and this guy together? Were they happy in some way? Were wally softer in her youth or this love delusion made her the well known psyco? Did this unrequited love for this man have something to do with the failed marriage with Orion (like robert baratheon always in love with Lyanna stark instead of his wife Cersei?) and with the betrayal with Druella? were orion and druella in love but then they had to marry other blacks? I want to know the background. I want to know the drama 🔥 and how did the blacks ended the scandal? Did Wally think about marrying Orion? Or her father? Did Alphard have a role in younger siblings' marriages to people they didn’t love? He could have done this, just to have fun

hehehe.

ok, I’ve joked in the past about how I basically have a TLE wiki from all the random notes and headcanons I’ve scribbled in my phone over the years but like………I kinda do.

For instance, I have a stupid amount of Black family backstory, some of which I’ll keep to myself because it’s probably going to end up in the story, and some of which is just superfluous info that no one really needs to know but exists anyway because my brain doesn’t shut up. Sometimes this backstory makes it into little lines like the one you referenced above. 🙃

Anyway, here’s (part) of my TLE wiki bio of Walburga because why the heck not 😂

(This was written a long time ago)

Walburga Black was born in 1925, the oldest child of Pollux and Irma Black. She had two brothers, Alphard and Cygnus, for whom she never much cared. This was partly based on resentment: the Blacks, being an ancient family, followed ancient rules of inheritance. Despite being the first born child, Walburga, a female, would inherit nothing. It’s hardly surprising, then, that she viewed Alphard as her usurper.

Alphard, for his part, did not play the role of heir particularly well. He was extravagant in his tastes, liked expensive horses, racing, gambling and men. It became apparent early in life that Alphard would not carry on the Black family name. This meant, of course, that young Cygnus had a fair amount of responsibility on his shoulders. Walburga, who thought he was weak-minded and soft, resented him this all the more.

Walburga left Hogwarts in 1932 and it was arranged that she would marry Robert Burke, a pureblood from a respectable family. He was nearly ten years her senior, but Walburga was deliriously and unusually happy with this arrangement. While it might be premature to say that she loved Robert, she was certainly infatuated with him, and boasted of her esteemed engagement. Alas, the feeling was not mutual. Robert, 28 and unhappy, ran off and eloped with a Muggleborn witch. Walburga was humiliated, shamed, and utterly furious. She never got over the slight, and in some ways, her exceptional fanaticism for blood purity could be traced back to this moment.

In 1949, Cygnus married Druella Rosier, who was 9 years his senior. It was an arranged marriage, naturally, but mutually beneficial. A few years later, in 1951, Druella gave birth to her first child, a girl named Bellatrix. In 1955, following the birth of Cygnus and Druella’s third daughter, Narcissa, Walburga consented to marry her cousin, Orion Black. Walburga was 30 years old — Orion was 26 — and she was beginning to feel anxious. There had been no other suitable marriage offers and Orion, though she had no passionate feeling towards him whatsoever, offered a great deal that was important. Primarily, she would keep her beloved name. The two married in 1956 and ultimately took over 12 Grimmauld Place, the home in which Orion had been raised — his parents having moved out to a house in Wiltshire, to give them the space. Orion and Walburga’s marriage was not a particularly happy one, though neither of them expected nor wished it to be. There was no affection between them, no warmth, no intimacy. All they really shared was a devotion to their name, the honor and privilege that being a Black bestowed upon them. It was a duty, their marriage, and both saw it as such. The duty, of course, was to produce heirs to the Black name.

By 1957, Walburga was pregnant with her first child. However, she would tragically miscarry. For someone whose own self-worth was so reliant on her ability to produce a male heir for the Black family, this was a nearly unsurvivable blow. But she carried on. It took two more years for her to have a successful pregnancy, but on November 3, 1959, Sirius Orion Black was born. Roughly a year and a half later, on June 19th, 1961, Walburga gave birth to a second son, Regulus Arcturus Black.

Walburga was delighted by her sons, not because she felt overwhelming affection for the two children, but rather because they secured her victory over her brothers. She was the sole keeper of the Black family name. Her children would be heir to the entire Black fortune.

etc etc etc

It goes on a while, but, spoilers :)

[attapullman]

Mo-Mo, I just had the funniest thought ever regarding Mr. Mears. It's fitting but it's also quite funny (lol).

Ben and Matt Burke are both literature teachers so imagine their shock and disgust when they get the reading list for when school starts. The lady who runs the department and who was also a town board member, basically told them that under no circumstances were they to teach any of the classics, gothic literature, humor books or epic fantasy. Needless to say, both were pissed, especially when they also got the call that Mark was being sent home for having copies of books like Treasure Island, Lord Of The Rings, The Wheel Of Time and Brandon Sanderson's Stormlight Archives in his locker (kid's a voracious reader thanks to these two).

Ben felt kinda bad about being so pissed off about it, but damn if it didn't lead to you two engaging in the hottest angry hate sex you two have ever had. He's fucked you good before but letting that out was probably the best thing he ever did (lol).

Not only did Matt and Ben decide they were gonna do something about it, but basically the entire coven decided they were gonna get in on it, including Mark's gang of neighborhood goonies. Father Callahan is totally a fan of banned books so he was more than eager to get in on the action.

Matt and Ben grabbed a bunch of books from the shelves in the house library, literally everything you can think of, Dracula, Frankenstein, Huck Finn, Last Of The Mohicans, Jane Eyre, Emma, literally all the good reads, and they hide them in the dust jackets of the "prescribed" books and take them down to the school where they have their students read them. Father Callahan even smuggles a few to the students in his Sunday youth group at the church while Mark and his gang of miscreants do a book swap in their treehouse. Mike Ryerson will sneak a few to his fellow cemetery workers and when Corey Bryant is on his lunchbreak and not repairing the phone lines, he'll sneak a few paperbacks around. A bunch of Ben's books like "Air Dance" have been passed around like a bad case of poison ivy (lol).

One day Matt and Ben are in the middle of a secret lesson when they hear a commotion in the halls and they find that the lady who banned all the good books in the schools has finally gotten her just desserts and her walking papers. Turns out she was fudging a bunch of stuff and a school board member squealed on her. The day she was given her walking papers, everybody in the hall, Ben and Matt included, were all chanting "walk of shame" as she left.

Mo-Mo if you want me to continue this, I might do it as a series when Salem's Lot comes out next month (lol).

Yes! Rage against the banned books! Ben and Matt are truly a dream vampire killing team and would fully be manning the stations to make sure all the good reads are still fully available to the children.

I am so ready for all the 'Salem's Lot lore and headcanons! After re-reading the book I am full on vampire slayer vibes - grab your stakes and crosses and my pus-

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

by Burk Parsons | Much of society is being overtaken by a youth-driven culture because we have neglected God’s call to train up the next generation of young people in the way they should go. If we are to redirect the current paths of young people, we must begin in the church by taking up the charge to come…

[teaspoonofdread]

THOUGHTS on Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga

I'll start with two statements regarding Anya Taylor Joy's casting and go from there.

I like her (I know some don't).

I agree she doesn't look like Charlize Theron (and we all know Charlize realized Furiosa as much as Miller did).

BUT a thing that struck me as soon as I heard she was cast was that she had that ethereal vibe of the Five (when I first saw them, the word 'mermaids' wouldn't leave my mind). I could see Anya playing a 'wife', which works with a backstory, I don't think any fan would like to watch play out on the screen...

Now let's try not to be too skeptical: she's tall like Furiosa, there's the probability she was more feminine as a girl living in a feminine world the Green Place of Many Mothers, she didn't need to be as muscular in her youth so she wasn't, etc.

Now. The trailer didn't manage to completely sell me the idea of Anya as Furiosa, but it eased some of my nerves. THE EYES! I saw a troll post on redit literally the day before the trailer dropped with close-ups of Theron and Joy (brown-eyed) captured "Furiosa eye color change?"

I've read the meta, I knew the eyes were carefully retouched in Fury Road in post-production, so I had hope. And seeing Anya's eyes in the trailer, I thought to myself, 'This is THE death stare. This is Furiosa'. And when she screamed all disheveled, I liked that part best. The one with her face covered, making the V8 symbol - second best.

I liked that she was shooting, I liked that cropped-out-seconds-rising-the-tension-rising-the-momentum Gorge Miller magic, I liked how over the top Lord Dementus was, it worked for me. Joe looked like Joe, I believe he didn't have any lines.

I definitely didn't like that head-touch with Tom Burke's character 😕 (sorry. He seems to have a lot of fans.)

And I didn't like the opening and closing shots. Can't quite place why: the opening one seemed like I'd already watched it before, also a bit too long, and the closing felt not authentic somehow. I wish she was more muscular. She just seems fragile in the classic Furiosa outfit.

Last roll of 'complains' before I start with the excitement-inducing points:

The over-explaining in the trailer itself, the big words with the exact number of years and all (like they could've converted into days, like they do in universe) but alas I suppose that's in order to bring in a wider audience. I hope it succeeds, tho!

Is a prequel the story I wanna visit - no. I'd like a movie about the Four - rebuilding, reforming, growing (green and as people), I want Max back even as I know it isn't like him to stay, and finally I want Theron and Hardy side by side, even as I know they wouldn't haha.

All of that is so unlikely. And there are so many spectacular novel-length fics about that. Hell, one such universe has been materializing in my mind for the past year. I almost don't want a movie about what comes after.

Still, I'd prefer a movie about the after rather than the before, but that's what's happening.

But I'm a nobody. The Creator of this world has a story he'd like to share, and it is centered around one of the most incredible characters in recent history, I think we're lucky to be able to witness that.

Now, onto the real excitement!

Disclaimer: this is less coherent even than what came before it.

First of all, we're finally getting a Wasteland movie by Gorge Miller (edited by Margaret Sixel!!!)

I cannot stress this enough!

We're getting chases, and War Boys and shiny mutant-cars, and we're going to GasTown, people! To the Bullet Farm! Helloo, I'm so ready, so curious!

And we're going to the Green Place, y'all! I'm so excited about it. Like they had horses wtf? Mary Jo Bassa! Canon Vuvalini names! Traditions! Defense strategies, weapons, male Vuvalini maybe, crows, so much lore...

But I'm most excited about that Lady driver and the little girl. I'm soo ready for the stories of women in the Wasteland!

To sum up: I'm mostly hyped for the expansion of the world because I love it so much. Because we'd see another of Miller's visions.

And I trust the team behind it enough to know it won't be an unremarkable movie.

I know it won't be another Fury Road because there never will be.

I watched it way too late, and it's my dream to see it on the big screen, which wouldn't happen. So I'm grateful for a second chance to experience something like it. And I'm hoping the fandom will live again, because from my lurking I've found it to be as intricate and smart and fucking amazing as Fury Road itself is, and I'd like to be a part of it this time around :')