#it is not fully joe and anyone who comes to me with bUt ToLeRaTe It Is ClEaRlY a JoE sOnG

[midnightsslut]

the reason why bejeweled feels very calvin to me still is how it parallels high infidelity. in general, the 3am tracks seem to explore a darker, more explicit side of a storyline that’s already present, if only in the form of subtext (like we don’t have a direct parallel for wcs, but we do have two songs exploring formative past relationships vaguely sexually, and wcs is the darker example), on the main album, and bejeweled/high infidelity is perhaps the best example of this. its similarities to tolerate it, which is about something she felt ‘at one point in her life,’ back this up. HOWEVER, I do think it’s exploring a potential outcome of the then-current state of her relationship with joe. like, this is how things could go - I have forgotten that I have a man in the past, and I can do it again.

[xxblackballoonxx]

Maybe That Was New York: Part 3

This is a work of fiction.

So apparently I'm continuing this! I don't know if this story will be updated regularly, as of now I plan to update it as it comes to me. Also, the man is too beautiful, the above photo is just 😍😍😍

This Sunday marks the 21st anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks. I couldn’t post a story about New York this week without paying respect to that. I know many younger people may not understand the profound changes this event had on the entire world, not just New York and not just the United States. It profoundly changed me, personally. It is a day to remember and mourn the 2,977 people killed on 9/11 and the over 4,000 that have been lost since to 9/11 related illnesses. Moments of silence will be held at: 8:46 am, 9:03 am, 9:37 am, 9:59 am, 10:03 am, 10:28 am EST. Never forget.

I am open to private and respectful conversations regarding 9/11. Any negative or disparaging comments towards those we lost will not be tolerated.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Maybe That Was New York: Part 3

Joe woke up to lightning flickering through the half closed curtains, the sky dark and city lights dimly light through the pouring rain. He reached across Jenny, who was still sleeping, to check his phone. It was just after 9 am but felt like the middle of the night.

"Time is it?" Jenny mumbled, reaching out for his hand.

"A little after nine. Nasty storm going on." Joe replied.

He laid back down, smiling to himself as she held his hand close to her chest. He could feel her breathing change as she fully started to wake up. He was starting to lose track of time, already. It had only been two nights sleeping in the same bed and it felt like twenty.

"How about we stay in and order room service?" 

Jenny nodded groggily and turned over as Joe picked up his phone to look at the menu. He scrolled with one hand, running his other hand through her hair. Jenny listened to him place the order, his voice was already seeping into her soul. And so was the way his hands felt on her.

"Can't believe it's my last full day already, check out tomorrow." Jenny said as she sat up, pulling a shirt over her head.

"When do you have to be home?" Joe asked as he reached out to touch her skin before the shirt fell down her back.

"Was planning on tomorrow night, catch a late train back."

"Can you stay one more night? Since Monday is a holiday?"

Jenny turned around at the tone of Joe's voice, a little unsure in his question but solid in his desire for her to stay. He ran his hand through his hair and caught her eye, a little grin on his face.  She found herself falling into the grey blue sea of his gaze, calm and steady.

"Maaaybe. If I had a place to stay ..."

"You can stay with me." 

Joe's quick and sure response was unsettling to Jenny. She hadn't wanted to question what they were doing, because they were living in the moment. But making plans? That wasn't living in the moment and the part of her that didn't trust anyone immediately began to question his motives. What, exactly, ARE we doing? Still, she maintained her composure.

"You sure?" Jenny asked casually, but Joe could see the doubt in her eyes and in the way she picked restlessly at the duvet.

"Jen?" Joe began, taking her hand gently in his, "I'm positive that I want you to stay with me tomorrow night."

Jenny smiled at him and nodded before standing up to use the bathroom. It pained him to see how much she second guessed everything he said, and he wanted nothing more than to make her believe he was interested, that he wouldn't lie to her. It was a mission he was officially signing up for.

“I told my brother about you.” Joe said as they finished breakfast, sitting across from each other on the bed.

“Really, when?” Jenny asked with surprise.

“Last night, when I went back to my flat. Apartment. Loft. Whatever. Anyways, Finn called me and yeah, I told him.”

“And? I need details here.” Jenny said with a laugh.

“He told me to make sure I had extra condoms.” Joe responded with a grin.

Jenny’s face turned red as she laughed again, burying her head into her hands.

“Well, was he right or was he right?” 

“I mean … based on last night, he was completely accurate.”

Jenny looked up at Joe with a smile and he winked at her, his smile widening as her face flamed red again. There was something about how he could read everything she was thinking, see it on her face. It felt different, like he’d always known her in some way.

He cleared the tray from the bed, setting it outside of the door, and turned around to find Jenny rubbing the side of her neck. 

“You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, just a chronic neck issue I’ve had for years, flares up sometimes.” 

“Come here.” Joe said as he took her hand and pulled her towards the top of the bed.

He sat down, propping himself up against a few pillows, and settled Jenny between his legs. He swept her hair over her shoulder and started to gently massage her neck, feeling her relax back into him a bit. After a few minutes, he stopped and pulled her shirt up over her head.  She stiffened slightly.

“You ok with this?” He whispered.

“Yes. Just … been awhile since I’ve been with someone. Like this.” Jenny whispered back.

He knew what she meant. Sex was one thing, you could detach emotionally to a certain degree, focus on the physical. But sitting in bed together, on a stormy morning, doing something like massaging the other person’s neck, it was intimate in a different way. Joe kissed her neck and then across her upper back, running his fingers down her spine.

“Well, this is a different massage technique.” Jenny joked, resting her hands on his legs.

“Only for you.” Joe replied, his mouth close to her ear, sending shivers across her body.

Jenny’s hands slid up to just above his knees as he tried to focus on massaging her shoulder. He wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her close to him. This is what he’d been waiting for, why the other girls he’d dated were fleeting connections. None of them ever touched his soul like this.

The following afternoon, Jenny unpacked a few things in Joe’s bedroom. He watched from the doorway, suddenly feeling self conscious about the fact that someone was in his space. He hadn’t fully unpacked yet, one of his suitcases exploding in the corner, script pages across the dining table. He had planned to spend that weekend getting himself settled and reviewing the script. Instead, he had fallen into a spell he’d never imagined.

Jenny turned around, heart pounding as she saw Joe watching her, leaning against the doorframe. The way he looked at her was melting the ice she’d built up for a long time, and she knew if she let him, he would get all the way inside. He raised his arm across his chest and rubbed his neck, feeling even more awkward.

“Sorry it's such a mess, been a bit busy this weekend.” He finally said with a smirk.

“It’s alright, it's really not messy.  You’re just not settled in yet, that’s all.” Jenny replied.

She walked over to the door and slid her arm around his waist, resting her head on his chest. Joe wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on hers, rocking back and forth slightly. It’s madness, really, but this is actually happening.

“There's something we need to do.” Jenny said.

“What’s that?”

“I need an iced tea.”

“That’s what we need to do?”

Jenny laughed and nodded as Joe followed her out of the apartment and onto the street. Every day here, he felt the city taking him in a little bit more. He knew it was like the ocean, beautiful with a dangerous current, commanding respect. And even then, it would spit you out from time to time, to land on the beach, hopefully unscathed.

They entered the coffee shop, and the barista looked up, unable to hide the smile on her face. The girl and the British guy were back, hand in hand. The girl pushed her sunglasses up on her head and stepped up to the counter to order. The barista gave a small look, one that only another girl would understand, and Jenny nodded with a little smile. So they are together. 

The barista watched them collect their order, the man touching the girl’s back as she put a straw in her cup. Her handing him a sugar packet for his tea. They were already that in sync. Whatever New York spell this was, the barista was completely captivated. That was the thing, when you lived within the city streets, the possibility of something happening became mundane sometimes.  And then you’d have an experience that couldn’t happen anywhere else, and you would come alive again. That was the magic of it. 

Joe held the door open for Jenny as they stepped back outside, and he turned to her as she flipped her sunglasses back down.

“Can I ask what that was about?” Joe said, taking her hand again.

“The barista. She was in the shop the morning we met, and the morning after. She’d noticed us. I thought she’d like to see the outcome so far. Of you and I.” Jenny replied.

“You noticed all that?”

“I notice everything.” 

“Going on your Blinders dissertation, yes, you certainly do.” Joe said with a laugh.

They walked down the street, hand in hand, lost in their own conversation. They earned longing looks, fleeting thoughts of how long they had been together, a few thinking the man looked vaguely familiar. A part of the city and a product of it.

Late Monday night, Joe stood with Jenny in the busy train station, holding the handle of her suitcase. Jenny thought back to the conversation they'd had that morning, sun streaming in through the window.  

“I was hoping, since you work from home, that maybe you could come back later this week and stay for a little bit?” Joe had asked her, as they lay facing each other.

Jenny watched as his eyes searched her face for a response, and she was compelled to reach her hand out, to run her fingers over the freckles across his cheek and then down to his scruffy beard.  The sunlight was picking up on the red in his hair and no man had ever looked so beautiful to her.

“I have a few things I need to take care of at home, but what if I come back Friday night? I’ll bring my work laptop so I can stay after the weekend.”

“That sounds good.” Joe said with a smile.

Now he was hugging her goodbye, and she felt a sudden panic. It was all well and good to talk about her coming back, but what if he changed his mind in the days between? When being apart seeped in and they both had perspective and distance.

“I’m going to call you every day, that’s a promise.” Joe whispered to her.

Jenny nodded in confirmation, but he knew for her it was a “I’ll believe it when I see it” situation. And he didn’t blame her, guys broke promises left and right, love bombed and ghosted, cheated and left. He wasn’t that person, but he understood he had to prove himself, and that was alright with him.

“I’ll let you know when I get home.” Jenny said, looking up at him.

“Please do. I’ll see you soon, love.” Joe replied.

Jenny smiled at the term of endearment, sliding her hand up to Joe’s neck as he kissed her one more time. 

“When I get back, we’re going to talk about this ear piercing you have, because, I gotta tell ya, the thought of you wearing an earring does things to me.” Jenny commented.

Joe laughed and nodded, bringing her in for one more hug. He handed over her suitcase, and she walked towards the track her train was at, turning back took look at him. He was watching her, the grey blue gaze she had already come to love, and they both had the feeling that the intensity between them was just beginning.  But would the spell break, once she left city limits?

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 3: Bukkake

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Primarily Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader and Lucy Boynton x Fem!Reader + also Lucy Boynton x Rami Malek + Gwilym Lee + Joe Mazzello

Words: 4,881

Warnings: bukkake (obviously), oral sex (f receiving), 69ing, cumplay, vibrators, some overstimulation, degredation (being called a slut).

A/N: This is something of a sequel to The Dinner Party. As soon as I saw bukkake was an option for day 3 I knew I had to do something with the borhap boys and then I’m too much of a whore to leave out Lucy so here we are lmao.

The day after the dinner party was a mostly quiet one. Ben treated you to a massage which was very appreciated, and then spent the rest of the day showering you in affection, ignoring your protests that you should be thanking him since he’d helped you live one of your biggest fantasies. You spent a long while talking about it too, going over everything in more detail now that you were in a better headspace to think properly. You talked through the emotions the scene had brought up and how close it came to what you’d been imagining. Ben confided which parts he’d liked most and which parts had made him worried and how he’d come close to safe wording once, when Joe had been spanking you. But for the most part he’d enjoyed it as much as you had and you agreed that neither of you would be opposed to something similar happening again. Although you also agreed that if it was a one-off event that would be okay too.   

Everyone remained in London for some weeks though it was hard to organise a group hang out again. You did meet up with everyone individually – Rami and Lucy joined you when Ben bought tickets to the ballet, you met Joe for dinner and drinks, and played a round of golf with Gwil – but it was difficult to find a time you were all free again. And not for lack of trying. It just seemed as if half of you were always busy at any one time. Lucy kept pushing though, eager to see everyone again, and eventually the planets aligned. A meeting fell through here, a lunch was rescheduled there, and all of a sudden everyone was free. There was some back and forth in the group chat about where to meet but eventually it was decided that your place would serve best again. It felt as if everyone was being careful not to reference the last time they’d all come over. It had felt like that every time you’d seen any of them. The most anyone had said was that dinner had been nice and it was good to catch up. But neither you nor Ben were keen to be the ones that brought it up either. For one thing you didn’t want to seem as if you were fishing for compliments, but there was also the uncertainty about far they’d read into such a comment. But even with the slight awkwardness, neither of you had any complaints about hosting everyone again.   

There was a lot less to prepare this time around, just a small afternoon tea rather than a full dinner. Ben did a run to the store to pick up a few necessities like milk and bread and a bag of apples so you could whip up a simple teacake. You had a quick tidy-up but didn’t need to go to the same amount of effort you’d required to set up for the dinner party. You didn’t have to worry about moving the furniture around, or dressing provocatively, or digging out sex toys, or anything like that. And when everyone arrived you sat around the living room on whichever chairs were available with mugs of tea or coffee, chatting casually, and snacking on sandwiches and cake. Some wine and bottles of beer got opened but that was as raucous as the afternoon seemed likely to get. At least, until an hour or so in when there was a lull in the conversation.   

For a moment all the talk seemed to stop. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. The silence was perfectly tolerable if a little odd considering how many of you there were. You were just about to ask Gwil how the project he was working on was going when Lucy spoke up.   “So that dinner party was fun.” She said, her eyes flicking from you to Ben and back again.   There was a chorus of agreement from everyone else and you giggled, knowing they were all thinking about what it had felt like to fuck you. Ben slowly lowered his beer bottle without it having reached his lips fully and your heartbeat sped up, wondering if they’d have more to say.   “I just have one small regret about the night,”   “Oh?” You felt as if every cell in your body had frozen in anticipation, wondering what Lucy might have regrets about. Had she disliked something that had happened?   “Well,” Lucy took a sip of her wine as if to fortify herself a little, “I wish we’d made out more. We could have made a show of it for the boys.”   Your body had started to work again but at twice the speed, your stomach somersaulting at the suggestion. You tried to keep your voice level, “Y-yeah, that, um, that probably would have been fun.”   Ben’s head had whipped around to look at you and in your peripheral vision you saw Gwil and Rami exchange looks. The same thought was on everybody’s mind but they were waiting for you. Slowly you turned to look at Ben too, already able to see the excitement in his eyes, “What do you say Benny? You okay to watch Me and Luce?”   “Uh,” he cleared his throat and nodded, “Yeah I’d like that a lot.”   “Rami?” you asked, sure he’d already have talked it through with Lucy but wanting to give him a chance to voice any discomfort, “Do you mind if I kiss your girlfriend?”   He chuckled softly, “No, I don’t mind at all.”   “Okay,” you glanced again at Lucy who had eagerly watched the whole exchange, and then back to Ben who nodded at you and took charge of the situation.    “Right. Lads, help me move the furniture a bit so the girls have some room. Babe, go and get a couple of blankets or sheets or something so that we don’t end up with spunk in the carpet.”   You hopped up and hurried to the bedroom as everyone else began rearranging the furniture. Lucy followed you and, to your surprise, so did Ben. He grabbed the pillows from your bed, pulling their covers off so they could be replaced with fresh ones as you dug through the cupboard for some clean sheets.   “Right, what did you ladies have in mind?” he asked softly as you all busied yourselves.   “Well, I guess, maybe me and Lucy will make out-”   “More,” Lucy cut in, “Not just making out, I want to fuck you.”   You gulped, “Okay. Me and Lucy will fuck and you guys can all watch and jack off over us. How does that sound?”   Lucy nodded enthusiastically, “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”   Ben’s eyes flicked between you but he nodded, “That's what I assumed. Just to be clear though, nothing else?”  “What did you have in mind?” Lucy asked slyly, “I’d be up for blowing you guys too if you wanted.”  Ben laughed, though his cheeks flushed pink, “I wasn’t suggesting anything. In fact, I was going to say it’s probably safer if we put a no touch rule in place. I mean if you want things to be more like last time, obviously I’d be into that and I know Y/N would be too.”  You nodded agreement.  “But this is very spur of the moment, and a lot of planning went into last time. I’d at least want to talk to Rami about offering any, well,”  “Any of our holes?” You suggested, making Ben flush more.  “Yes, that.” He said with a small laugh, “It’s probably better if it’s a look but don’t touch situation. Unless you had other ideas.”  “No, that makes sense,” Lucy said, “I did talk with Rami about it already but the idea of me being shared around wasn’t brought up, it was just about everyone watching me and Y/N.”  “Then I think it’s for the best if we stick with that.”  “Yeah, whatever you guys are most comfortable with,” Lucy said, “As long as I still get to play with Y/N’s cunt.”  Ben smiled at having such a statement addressed to him, but he could see your excitement at the idea and was happy to agree on your behalf.    “Right well, I’m going to go make sure Rami knows whats going on. Why don’t you two go and get these sheets spread out, make it comfy for yourselves, and then I’ll go over the rules so everyone hears them and we can get started.”   You pulled Ben into a quick kiss, “Thanks babe. Love you.”   “Go on, go set up.” He laughed, handing Lucy the newly covered pillows, “Who knew we had two sluts in the group.” 

By the time you returned to the main room it looked quite different. The coffee table had been shifted aside, butting up against a wall out of the way. The couch, arm chair and a few spare seats from around the dining table had been rearranged too, creating something of a circle. Ben pulled Rami aside and you were momentarily distracted watching them chat, until Lucy threw a pillow at your head to get your attention. Laughing again, a little giddy with excitement, you helped her spread out the sheets, laying the pillows in the centre. She observed what you’d created with her hands on her hips.   “There, that should do. How you feel about toys? Got a double ended dildo we could use?”   “Ummm, nothing like that. Theres a regular dildo though and a vibrator. Plus y’know, cuffs and paddles and that.”   Lucy shook her head, “What about that one with the remote we used on you last time?”   “Yeah, I’ve still got that. What are you thinking?”   “I’m thinking the boys could control it. And maybe grab the other vibe too?”   You agreed and hurried back to the bedroom as Ben gathered everyone’s attention to explain the rules of the evening.    “So Lucy and Y/N have graciously offered to be tonight's entertainment but there’s to be no touching involved. You are allowed to talk to them, give them suggestions, make comments about them, call them derogatory names – the same sort of thing as last time. And, of course, you’re encouraged to enjoy yourselves fully and have a cheeky wank while watching them. As long as you keep your hands to yourself. Um, what else,” Ben paused as he watched you re-join Lucy in the middle of the circle, “There is lube, if you’d like to use it. And if you are going to cum, try to aim for the girls or at least the sheets and not our furniture or carpet. Of course you can also-”   You stopped listening as Lucy tugged you down to the floor, situating herself above you so she was straddling your waist. She grabbed your wrists as you reached out to touch her, pushing them over your head and pinning them against the floor as she leaned down to kiss you.   You couldn’t help but arch into her, Ben’s voice calling you a slut still ringing in your ears, as you tried to deepen the kiss. 

Ben had long stopped talking, all four of the guys completely focused on you and Lucy. You were vaguely aware of the sounds of them getting comfortable as Lucy let your wrists go. She sat up straighter and drew her dress over her head, revealing the matching bra and panties she wore.    “Came prepared?” you asked which just made her laugh.  “Now you,” she said, shuffling back so she could strip you too. You hadn’t put in as much effort with your underwear, not having expected to show it off for anyone other than Ben, but someone still let out a long low whistle of appreciation.  Lucy giggled as she resettled herself on your hips and leaned down to kiss you again, distracting you as her hand reached for the vibrator.   You jolted as she pressed it against your clothed clit, holding it there until you let out a soft hum of pleasure. And then, just as soon as it had started it stopped. Lucy sat up again and looked around at the entranced men, all of whom seemed to be a little dazed.   “Well c’mon boys. We wanna see your cocks.”   There was a sharp intake of breath and then you heard zips lowering as each of them complied with Lucy’s request.    She just grinned at you.  

You had enough time to glance around and see Ben in one chair, slowly stroking his semi-hard dick, before Lucy surprised you with the vibrator again. She held it against you, turning up the speed of the vibrations and using the tip to draw circles over your clit as you squirmed underneath her. Rocking forward Lucy let out her own soft hum of pleasure as she rubbed herself against the vibrator too.  From somewhere above you came a soft groan from one of the boys, though it was hard to tell who exactly when Lucy was once again adjusting the speed of the toy. She turned it up a notch, the buzzing getting louder as the speed increased, and held it firmly in place. Her other hand rested against your thigh so her back was arched slightly as she rocked against the toy, both of you keening and moaning softly as it drew you towards the edge.   You came first, mouth falling open as you shuddered with the orgasm, but Lucy kept the vibrator in place until she’d reached her peak too. She didn’t take much longer than you did but it was long enough to have you whining as the pleasure teetered on the edge of pain. You felt nearly breathless as she shut it off and put it aside.  

Looking up at your captive audience, Lucy asked, “What would you fellers like to see me do to the slut next?”  It was quiet for a bit. You waited, still trying to catch your breath, to see if anyone would comment on your fate.  After a moment Joe spoke up, “I think you shouldn’t throw stones in glass houses Luce. You’re as much of a slut as Y/N.”  Lucy laughed, “Fair point. So then what would you like to watch two sluts do?”  Joe didn’t even pause, “I think you should 69.”  “That does sound fun,” Lucy said, already reaching for your knickers, “Someone unclasp my bra for me?”  You let her work your underpants down your legs, watching as Joe happily stood up to help Lucy with her bra. She shucked it off and stood to remove her panties which gave you time to rid yourself of your own bra, leaving you both naked.   The next thing you knew as you settled back against the pillow, was Lucy lowering herself over your lips and the salty sweet tang on your tongue as you licked along her wet slit.   She hummed in response, and rocked against you, cooing about how good you were and how you were going to make her cum again, encouraging you to delve deeper and taste more of her.   “I said 69 Luce,” Came Joe’s voice and then she lowered her head to your pussy too, her breath warm as she lightly licked along your lips. 

Knowing that there were so many eyes on you was definitely a turn on, especially when you could hear the boys. They made comments about you and Lucy, calling you good sluts for keeping them entertained, grunting about how hot it was to watch as they stroked themselves. And then there was the sound of their strokes too, hands on skin, occasionally assisted by the wet of lube or spit. You could hear their hisses and hitched breaths mixed in with Lucy’s own sounds as she spread your lips with her fingers and lapped up your juices. The only problem was that Lucy’s ministrations were too light. Her tongue and lips felt nice as she traced them along your slit and flicked against your clit, but you wished she’d be a little firmer or faster. To compensate, or maybe in an attempt to demonstrate what you wanted, you sucked harder, pressed your tongue more firmly to her cunt. Which just made her climax sooner. She moaned when she hit her release, still bent over you but breaking contact so you were left wishing she’d just keep going.   She rode out her orgasm on your face and then sighed with satisfaction as she crawled off you.  “Lucy,” you pouted, wiping your mouth, “I didn’t finish.”  She clicked her tongue and mockingly pouted back as she knelt between your legs, “Boo hoo.” Her fingers lightly traced along your lower stomach, making you shiver, “You already came once, isn’t that enough.”  “I’d prefer more.”  She let her hand trail lower, down to your clit, “Hmm, my mistake.”  And then all of a sudden she was pressing two of her fingers into you, making you gasp. With her free hand she spread your lips open, offering the others a clear view of her fingers disappearing into your hole, all the while teasing you for being so wet and so desperate for more.  You moaned as she adjusted her pace, speeding up, fucking you hard and fast with her two digits, but it wasn’t enough to get you close to orgasm.   “Please,” you whined after a little while, but Lucy only laughed, continuing to finger you in the same way for a few more strokes before suddenly pulling out.  

Before you could so much as open your mouth to swear, Lucy was pushing something new into you.  Your voice cracked with your moan as she turned the egg on, the vibrations hitting all the spots Lucy hadn’t hit before. You were aware of Lucy kneeling over you as you writhed on the floor, unable to escape the constant stimulation. But, as you drew closer to the edge, it became harder and harder to take in what was happening around you. You were vaguely aware of one of the boys groaning but otherwise you were completely oblivious to the rest of the group, entirely consumed by your cunt and the release you’d so craved washing over you. Even when Gwil stood up aimed his cock at you, rapidly jerking himself until his semen painted your stomach, you barely had any clue it was happening. No one had stopped the egg, no one had slowed it. You gasped Lucy’s name, trying to tell her it was becoming too much but she didn’t answer. It wasn’t her fault though. You were too distracted to notice that Joe had gripped Lucy’s hair and pulled her around to face him. As you clutched at the sheets and wailed to god, Joe was groaning through his own orgasm, one hand holding Lucy in place so that not a drop missed her face. You only became aware that Lucy no longer had the controls when Ben shoved her down and told her to suck on your tits. Whoever had taken the controller from her, or picked it up when she dropped it, was kind enough to slow the vibrations to a less consistent pattern but they didn’t turn it off. Instead you experienced brief moments of piece��between the harsh seconds of high intensity vibrations. And on top of that your nipple was enveloped by the warm wet of Lucy’s mouth. Joe’s cum spread from her cheeks and lips to your skin as she mouthed and kissed at every inch of your breasts. It must have made for a nice show because before long Ben was splattering his seed over Lucy’s back as Rami sprayed cum over your neck and into your mouth as you opened it to scream through another orgasm.  

When the egg did stop, you were panting for air. Lucy was on her knees again, facing away from you and giggling as she drew her fingers across her cheek and licked them clean, clearly putting on a show for the boys.   “You guys really must like seeing us be so slutty,” she laughed and you saw Ben and Gwil nod in unison. Gwil was already hard again, slowly stroking himself once more though Ben clearly needed some more time to recover. Sitting up, you glanced around and saw Rami watching you as Joe examined the controls of the egg. An idea had already formed as to how to get some revenge upon Lucy and so you held your finger to your lips before either Rami or Joe could give you away. Joe winked and Rami broke into a smile as you reached out for the discarded vibrator and quietly shuffled towards Lucy, her back still marked with Ben’s cum. Of course, both Ben and Gwil spotted you creeping up but they held their silence, Gwil telling Lucy to open her legs a little wider as if it would help get him off again. She obliged, her focus entirely on his weeping cock as she absentmindedly touched her pussy.   “I know I’m not allowed to touch you,” Gwil said, “but I think it would be alright if you helped me out, don’t you?”  “I suppose that would be okay,” Lucy said, hesitating for half a second before drawing her wet hand away from herself and reaching up to grasp Gwil’s cock.   It gave you the perfect opportunity to close the distance between you and to press the tip of the vibrator against her hole,quickly pushing it in as you turned it on. It didn’t come up against much resistance, wet as she was.   “What the f-oh!” She gasped as you thrust the buzzing toy in and out of her, adjusting the angle until her legs tensed and she moaned. And then you held it there as she dropped her hand and tried to bat you away. You tutted in her ear and told her you were just repaying her for what she’d done to you, beginning to properly fuck her with the toy, keeping it angled to hit whatever spot you’d located that she clearly enjoyed. The sight of you pumping the vibrator into Lucy’s pussy as you reached around to palm at her breasts obviously worked for Ben, his cock getting stiffer before your eyes. You heard Joe and Rami move towards you as well, though you couldn’t see how eagerly they watched as Lucy cried out and came.  You felt very pleased with yourself for about a second before the egg jolted to life inside you again and you matched Lucy’s cry with your own, your hand slipping from the end of the vibrator. It stayed inside Lucy for a little longer, her cunt clenching so hard that it kept the toy in place, but before long it had slipped from her, still buzzing where it lay on the sheets.  Joe still held the controls for the egg and adjusted them constantly, making the egg buzz higher and lower and stop and start so that you were barely feeling it beyond brief bursts of pain tinged pleasure.  “Fuck that was hot,” Gwil grunted, his thumb spreading precum over his tip and down his length, “Both of you sluts looks at me.”  You dragged your eyes up to his cock, watching how his fist sped up as he got closer and closer and then finally came again, making sure to hit you and Lucy’s chests. 

There was a cheer as you felt yourself be manhandled into facing Lucy. She winked at you and bent forward to lick the cum from your tits, keeping it on her tongue so that when she kissed you, you could taste it. It mingled with her saliva and yours, streaked over your lips as Lucy deepened the kiss, making sure her tongue met yours so she could share every drop. What sperm had newly been spread over Lucy’s chest soon smeared across yours as she pulled your in close, your nipples brushing as you got drunk on her kiss. You were still feeling buzzes from the egg inside you though you doubted Joe still had the controller since the pattern was no longer as random. However, Lucy had no toy shoved inside her cunt to keep her on edge. Instead she manoeuvred so that her pussy pressed against your thigh, leaving a wet trail where she dragged it over your skin.   You automatically lay a hand on Lucy’s back to hold you steady, inadvertently spreading the cum that had been left over her.   That did it for Ben who grunted as he dripped more cum over you and Lucy as you made out.  “Go on Luce, pin the whore and grind your cunts together.” Rami suggested, clearly enjoying seeing his girlfriend on top of someone else.   She didn’t need to be asked twice, gladly pressing you to the sheet again and climbing on top.   All you could do was whine at the inconsistent vibrations within you, looking up as Lucy pressed her pussy against yours, their slick mixing as she gyrated her hips. And then you felt it. Lucy had reached for the still on vibrator that had fallen from her. She pressed it between you and at the same moment, whoever now held the controller for the egg vibrator turned it up so that you felt the buzzing from inside and out. You screamed at the combination of sensations, pinned under Lucy and unable to escape.   Lucy was moaning too, getting off on you. And you felt a sticky kind of wetness as Rami’s orgasm landed on your mound. Lucy used her fingers to spread it across her pussy and then continued to grind against you, the white of his release adding to the creamy wetness that already existed from both your cunts.   You were the next to cum, unable to hold off as the egg got louder and faster. And then Joe who didn’t seem too fussed about aiming for either of you. His cum spilt onto the sheets around you but neither of you noticed. You were too busy whining as you once again became overstimulated and Lucy was entirely distracted by her quest for a final orgasm. By the time she reached it you were nearly crying, but thankfully she shook with her well earned climax and then slipped from you to lay on the floor.  

Ben had already zipped himself away and was quick to catch the vibrator and turn it off as whoever had the controls mercifully switched yours off as well.  You hissed when you tried to move, the egg still rubbing the sensitive spot but Ben hushed you and gently removed it from your pulsing pussy.   “Joe, Gwil. D’you guys want to get everyone some water?” He asked, though it wasn’t really a question.  They agreed and you heard their footsteps disappear through the doorway. Once they’d gone, Rami helped Lucy up as Ben helped you, leaning in to kiss your forehead softly.  “Are you both okay?” Rami asked, concern written in his features.  Lucy said yes as you nodded and, satisfied, they assisted you towards the bathroom, letting you each lean against them as you walked slowly.  Ben tried to insist on helping you clean up but you told him it was fine and shut the door so that you and Lucy could run some warm water and clear away the evidence of your debauchery.   Lucy laughed, seeming less worn by the second, as you scrubbed her back clean with a flannel, “That was a lot of fun.”  “Yeah it was. Really glad you suggested it.”  “Good. I was a little worried you wouldn't go for it after last time.”  “Are you kidding? Me and Ben were both kind of wondering if anyone would want to do something like that again. But we didn’t want to just ask for it in case it seemed like that was the only reason we’d want to hang out.”  “Think it’s safe to say everyone would be on board if you ever suggested a dinner party again.”  You laughed too, “Yeah, I think you’re right. 

Rami knocked on the door as you were washing yourselves so he could return your clothes to you and by the time you were both redressed the living room was almost back to normal. The chairs were still rearranged but no one seemed too bothered by it. When the boys realised you and Lucy were coming back, a round of applause broke out. You laughed, a little embarrassed, but gave a bow as if you were completing a performance, Lucy joining in beside you. She made her way to the couch where Rami sat, curling up and laying her head in his lap as she finally relaxed. You found Ben, sure you weren’t going to have the same emotional reaction you’d had to the events of the dinner party but wanting to be near him just in case. He was in an arm chair so you climbed onto his lap, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his arm around you.   You felt tired and a little sore but very very satisfied and your heart was nearly bursting with how lucky you were to know such a wonderful group of people.   Ben’s hand was warm and heavy where it rested on your side but you didn’t mind. It was comforting. As was the gentle rumble of his chest as he spoke, laughing with Joe about something as if there hadn’t been an interruption 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

[babybluebex]

hey bestie could you do a tom holland x reader where their at the oscars?

of course!! i love how this turned out (and in like so little time? oowee i wish i wrote this fast normally hehe)

nominee [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 1.3k ➽ summary: you have big news for your boyfriend after he wins best actor at the oscars.   ➽ warnings: explicit language, pregnancy ➽ a/n: i am manifesting so hard... masterlist/taglist in bio!

The auditorium was buzzing with conversations at every corner, and you could only look around you and stare. You were surrounded by so many people that you had idolized for years-- and Harrison and Harry and Sam, you supposed-- and it felt surreal to even be here at all. The Academy Awards were a big deal, especially to your boyfriend and his friends, and you could feel Tom shaking with excitement. You still remember when the nominees were announced: Tom had careened through the house, yelling incomprehensibly until he landed on the bed where you were still very much asleep. “The fuck do you want?” you had mumbled, and Tom had grabbed your face and kissed your head. “You’re looking at Best Actor nominee,” Tom had said, and you were awake and yelling with him. 

You looked to Tom to see him leaning forward to talk to Harrison over Harry, and you laid a gentle hand on his knee. Your touch made him pause his conversation, and he looked to you with pure excitement in his brown eyes. 

“Thank you for coming,” Tom whispered. He took your hand and raised it to his lips, and he kissed your knuckles. “It means so much to me, baby.” 

“Did you think I would miss this?” you laughed. “The Oscars, Tommy! If nothing else, I get to hang out with Ciara!” At the mention of her name, Ciara tuned into your conversation, her earrings swaying, and she smiled widely. “But, really, babe. I’m so incredibly proud of you, in a way that words just can’t express.”

“Yeah, Tommy,” Ciara grinned. “You’ve done so well.”

Tom’s cheeks turned red with the praise and he smiled again, and he softly kissed your cheek. “Go give Anthony and Joe a kiss,” he told you. “They deserves it as much as I do.” 

“You’re giving me permission to kiss Joe Russo?” you laughed. “Best boyfriend ever.”

“Oh, please,” Tom scoffed. “I know that you’d leave me in a heartbeat if Joe offered.” 

You kissed Tom once more and quickly stood up, and you moved past him, Harrison, and Harry and gave Anthony Russo a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Tony,” you said with a smile. “Congratulations on everything. And you too, Mr. Joe Russo!”

Joe turned to you and extended his hands, and you wrapped him a big, tight hug. “Congrats, both of you,” you said. “This movie means so much to a lot of people, man. You deserve all of the awards possible.” 

Joe pulled out of the hug and briefly kissed your cheek. “Congratulations to you, dear,” Joe told you, holding your hands tightly. You were aware of the press flashing pictures of the both of you, and you knew that tomorrow’s headlines would read Tom Holland’s Girlfriend and Joe Russo Are Our Ultimate BFF Goals or some shit equivalent. “Tom is a hell of an actor and a gentleman. I’m happy for you both.” 

You smiled and whispered, “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

You leaned in and cupped your hand by his ear, sure that Tom was watching you. He was surprisingly good at reading lips, and you wanted to keep the surprise. “I’m pregnant,” you whispered. “And I’m going to tell Tommy tonight.” 

Joe laughed, and he said, “Your secret is safe with me, babe. Go back and give your man a big kiss; he needs it.” 

You nodded and kissed Joe once more, and you moved back to your seat. The custom Dior dress gave you a bit of a struggle, but Tom’s hands caught you and helped you settle back in the seat. You quickly put your hand on the back of Tom’s neck and kissed him, and Tom laughed before kissing back. “Kiss for the cameras, huh?” he asked. 

“No,” you said. “Just for you. You know that, if it was for the cameras, it would be a lot more than that.” You took Tom’s hand and held it tightly as the lights dimmed back down, signaling the return from commercial break. Tom’s foot was shaking as it usually did when he was nervous, and you laid a gentle hand on his thigh. It was flattering to know that even your gentlest touch helped soothe Tom, and he let out a heavy breath. 

“And the nominees for Best Actor are… Tom Holland, Cherry!” There was raucous applause as clips from the movie played on screens all around the auditorium, and Tom’s smile was a mile wide. The other nominees were announced, but you hardly paid attention. You knew Tom was going to win. You just knew it. 

“And the winner is… Tom Holland, Cherry!”

Harrison and Harry were yelling like typical boys and slapping Tom on the back as he edged out of the aisle to accept his award, and Ciara grabbed your hand in excitement. “I told him!” she exclaimed. “I told him that he’d win, and he didn’t believe me!” 

Tom glowed underneath the stage lights, and you smiled as you watched him fiddle with his pockets. Dom and Nikki had twisted his arm last minute and convinced him to write an acceptance speech, and you could tell that he was thankful for it. “Oh, wowie,” Tom said, and you laughed at your goofy man. “This is amazing. Umm, big thanks to the Russo brothers for directing this movie and helping me perfect this performance. It’s such an important story to tell and I only hope that I did a good job. I guess I did. Hell… Thanks to Ciara Bravo, the best co-star anyone could ask for, and my brothers and parents for standing behind me the whole way, and-and, who else? Oh, God, they’re flashing the light at me-- Y/N! Thank you, baby, I love you so much, thank you for tolerating me whining about the heat and my itchy haircut and-and everything, I love you to pieces.” 

Tom hugged you so tightly that he lifted you off the ground, and you saw tears in his eyes. “Are you crying, Best Actor?” you giggled, wiping his tears from his cheeks. 

“Marry me,” Tom said quickly. 

“What?” you asked, even though you had heard every word he said. “Marry you? Tommy, really?” 

“Fuck, I never wanna live another day without you,” Tom said, his hands tight on your waist. “Wait, the ring… Shit! Dad has the ring! Harry, doesn’t Dad have--” 

“Tommy,” you said quickly, putting your hand on Tom’s face and directing his erratic attention back to you. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

Tom blinked. He didn’t seem like he fully grasped what you had said. “I…” He said finally and swallowed heavily. “I am? Me?”

“Yes,” you laughed, your heart racing a mile a minute. “You, baby.” 

“You-You’re--” Tom stuttered, and he raked his fingers through his gelled hair. “I am!”

“Yes,” you nodded quickly. 

“You’re what, mate?” Harrison asked, leaning over to speak to Tom, and Tom let out a gleeful, almost maniacal, laugh. “Y/N--” Tom began and laughed again. 

Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to say the words for a moment, you turned to Harrison. “I told him that I’m pregnant,” you said, earning you another laugh from Tom. “And I think I broke him, to be honest.” 

“Joe! Anthony!” Tom called. “I’m gonna-- We’re having a baby! Ciara--”

“I heard,” Ciara said, hugging you around your waist. “Congratulations. And what’s this I hear about an engagement?”

Tom turned back to you, as if remembering that you were the biggest factor in the baby and engagement equations, and he clutched your face and kissed you. It was a deep and long kiss, one that attracted cameras, and you giggled. “Thank you,” Tom whispered. “Thank you, Y/N, thank you.”

“Well, it’s sort of your fault,” you chuckled and pecked Tom’s lips again. “Oh, really?” Tom said with a smarmy smile. “You told me that you were on the pill.” 

“I am!” you said. “I mean, I was.”

“Whatever,” Tom laughed. “One way or another, we’re having a baby. Doesn’t matter who’s fault it is.” 

“Tom!” A reporter called. “How do you feel about winning Best Actor?”

“It’s amazing,” Tom replied, still gazing at you. “But not the best news I’ve heard all night.” 

“Well, you seem happy about something,” the reporter said. “Care to share?”

“Yes, I actually do care,” Tom said, and he clutched your hand. “I won’t be sharing this for a while.”

[somethingsomagicaboutwords]

Sometimes I wonder about Booker and privilege a lot.

Of all the members of the guard, he is the only one who gets to go through life with the straight white man privilege. Who can walk into any country, any part of the world and be, well if not accepted, at least treated with caution. White people inherently have that advantage.

Now, Andy and Nicky share it too yes. But Andy has years and years of sexism to contend with. Of being forced to conform to the norms of a woman, of being thought weaker, of being treated as eye candy by lecherous men. For her, I imagine being captured by the unsavory always included the threat of rape or sexual abuse. And Nicky can find acceptance easier than her as long as he chooses to hide his love, as long as he distances himself from Joe and since thats antithetical to who he is as a person, it will grate his soul. His acceptance into white society comes at a price that he most often feels is too high. So his privilege comes at a cost that grants him awareness of it each minute.

I hardly need to talk about the multiple ways these issues intersect for Joe and Quynh when they attempt life in the western world at any given point in history. I'm not even talking about direct racist abuse and hate crimes. But day to day life. Restaurants and inns that either refuse to serve them or demand entry through separate doors, restrooms that are divided, public transportation issues, buying power being affected because too much money would raise questions of whether it's stolen money, that kind of thing. Problems coming up just because of their skin, even without the gender and sexual orientation.

Nile's experience with racism and sexism is subtler as all modern day issues are, but it is still very much present. Micro aggressions and purposefully designed power imbalance cloaked under the guise of a fair and upstanding world that left its ugly past in the last millennium and chooses to treat issues as things that magically vanished one day in the 20th century. Especially with America insisting it neither has a racist history nor is it anything but the land of the free.

Booker has no concept of dealing with discrimination in anyway but tangentially and no matter what, no matter how empathetic an individual is or how much one tries, it is not the same. The lack of privilege is the only way to fully comprehend its absence.

Which is another reason why I personally find it very hard to understand and sympathize with the 'nobody knows what it feels like, nobody understands' ideology he has. I accept the presence of his mental health issues and I very much find them valid, be it crippling depression or extreme alcoholism. But it still reeks of 'my suffering is unique' vibes to me and demonstrates a lack of understanding of the struggles the others face.

And sure, suffering is not a competition and everyone has pain tolerance to different degrees and Booker might just be one of those people who doesn't cope with it well. But his woe is me, my pain is beyond your comprehension is just... Idk suspect as hell.

Like, yes, it was not his intention to hurt the others, the set up at the start was only to give proof. He knows the risks of exposing their secret better than anyone though, since he came to them post the loss of Quynh and has heard their deepest fear. But he still went ahead with it, like did he think a big time pharmaceutical company in a capitalist world would want anything but profit at any expense?

His intention might not have been to hurt the others but making their worst fears come true shows, at the very least, a high degree of disregard and self centric attitude that comes with privilege.

Thoughts anyone?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Savage Love A-Z

Like so many, I started reading Dan Savage for prurient kicks — every week, I’d pick up Toronto’s free weekly NOW Magazine and check the club listings, movie reviews, municipal scandal reporting, and then I’d look around the subway car before turning to his syndicated Savage Love column.

Savage’s sex advice column exposed (!) me to a much wider spectrum of human sexuality than I encountered even in the radical, politicized, sex-positive, queer-friendly circles I ran in, and Savage’s frank, fully, raunchy and empathic replies were even more eye-opening.

That’s Savage’s brilliant bait-and-switch: come for graphic sexual content, stay for thoughtful and well-thought-through philosophy — a philosophy that is forgiving when it needs to be (see, e.g., Savage’s famous tolerance for cheating as more normal than anyone admits).

But also blistering when warranted, as with Savage’s catchphrase “Dump the motherfucker already” (abbreviate to DTMFA to preserve space in his syndicated column), with which he chides people who are trying to make it work with someone who is fundamentally unworkable.

For more than a decade, Savage has run a wildly successful and even more entertaining podcast version of his column, the Savage Lovecast, featuring guest-experts, recorded audience reactions, and Savage’s acerbic and charming narration.

https://savage.love

With his frank sexual language and graphic descriptions, Savage is an unlikely culture-maker, but also a wildly successful one. Just consider the many coinages he’s introduced to everyday English.

These include the political (“santorum: the frothy mix of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex,” named for homophobic senator Rick Santorum) and the sexual (“pegging: when a man is anally penetrated by a woman wearing a strap-on dildo”).

But most of all, Savage-isms are about the place where relationships and sex meet: “GGG” (“good, giving and game”), “the campsite rule” (“older partners’ responsibility to leave younger partners in at least as good a shape as they were in when you began your relationship”).

These get to the core of Savage’s mission and the secret to his enduring success: they acknowledge that sex is important to most adults’ lives, and set out to make people happy about their sexual selves, by being kind to the people they have sex with.

Beyond his columns, podcasts and film-festivals, Savage has published many books about sex and relationships, but his latest, “Savage Love A-Z” is my new favorite.

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/669583/savage-love-from-a-to-z-by-dan-savage-illustrated-by-joe-newton/

As the title suggests, the book is an illustrated, alphabetical tour through the concepts and tropes of Savage’s decades-long corpus of sexual wisdom, humor and learning (including many frank admissions of where he got it wrong, listened to critics, and got better).

I was skeptical of the alphabetical organizational structure — it’s an awfully arbitrary way to put together a lighthearted-but-deadly-serious manual for a happier, more satisfying, kinder way of living.

But the structure won me over: after all, our relationship and sex problems are chaotic and blended, too — if sex was just a matter of this thing and that thing rubbing together, there’d be no problems.

The thing that makes sex so difficult isn’t the mechanics, it’s the entanglements — our imaginations, our expectations, our shames, our fears, our hopes. Logistics. Vocabulary. Secrecy. The endless complexity of other people and all their inscrutable, inexpressable stuff.

It all happens at once, and none of it can be cleanly distentangled from the rest of it. The commonplaces of sex and relationship advice are, on their face, nonsense.

Our cultural consensus is a contrafactual upside-down world in which love is primarily monogamous and lifelong, men don’t look at porn, women don’t like sex, everyone has one true love, and a good sexual partner just knows what you want without ever having to discuss it.

Savage invites us to treat that consensus with the contempt it deserves, and to join him - and his readers, whose words and voices are always present in his work - in the far more delightful, weirder, more fun, and nicer reality.

Most of us are woefully ill-equipped for reality, misinformed by the ways religion, sex-phobia, and fairy tales "put a zap on our heads" (another Savage-ism). Savage is quartermaster for our journey to the world as it really is - and guide to the better world it could be.

[queenofthefallenangels]

My Knight Part 1/2

Jon Moxely X OC 

Requested by: @xladyxfatex​ 

Rated: M 

Warnings: smut and fluff 

Summary: Kenny takes his little sister, Ashlynn to one of his matches to try and cheer her up. Ashlynn goes with Riho and some of the other girls to a bar after the show. That’s where she meets one charming man. Too bad that man was exactly who her brother warned her against. 

I groaned as I got out of the car. It was amazing to go anywhere with my brother. My brother had taken me along to much different wrestling shows that he had performed with, all over the world.  This was different. It felt like he was inviting me as a pity trip. I knew mom and dad had tried to coax him into taking me out of town to cheer me up.  

“Come on, Ashlynn,” Kenny said smiling as he handed me my bag. We were at the hotel for the city he was wrestling in tomorrow night. “You love coming to my matches.” “I do. When there isn’t a hidden agenda behind it.” I sighed. “I know mom and dad made you do this because they are worried about me.” 

“Of course they are. I am too. You have been locked up in the house ever since.” He paused. “It’s not healthy.” “I am perfectly fine.” I rolled my eyes as I rolled my bag into the doors. I knew what he was talking about. The last few months of my life have been in pieces. My fiance left me for his boss, I lost my job which caused me to lose my house. To top it all off, my Yorkie passed away. It all came at once like a nasty hurricane, leaving nothing, but destruction in its path. I moved back in with my parents which is something at twenty-eight years old, I thought I would never do. I was miserable. I locked myself in my room for days. Just wishing that I wouldn't wake up.  I knew Kenny's niceness was only my parents trying to get me away from my Netflix binging. Which was probably a good thing. The office was even getting old after its thirtieth run through. 

"Ash, you aren't fine. We are all worried about you. We thought maybe if we left you alone that you would snap out of it. You haven’t.” 

I sighed, “Fine, but did you really have to make Riho take me out. That makes me look even worse.” Kenny raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t make her. She asked me if I thought it would be okay for you to go out with the rest of the girls on the rooster. I thought it would be a perfect thing for you to do. You need to get out with some girls and forget everything.” 

“To a bar... where I could get drunk...and met a boy? What kind of big brother are you?” She teased lightly. 

“No wrestlers,” Kenny warned. That was always Kenny one warning. He would tell me all these horror stories about them. How most of them were just looking to get laid to fill the need of being lonely on the road. A lot of them also had let the fame get to there and the fact that girls were practically begging to jump on their dicks. He never wanted me to become one of those girls that he sees. He said there was more to me. He said I could date any other kind of athlete, but he had just seen too many with wrestlers. I never dated much of either. I mainly date normal joes with normal nine to fives.  I still ended up getting hurt though. It didn’t seem to matter. “Especially Jon Moxely.” Kenny entered that pulled me away from his thoughts. 

“Why especially him?” I asked as I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. I had no idea who he was even referring to. I hadn’t seen any of his shows since he joined AEW. I had really no intention as bad as that sounded. 

“He is no good. Just stay away.” Kenny’s voice was stern. I sighed as I nodded in agreement to stay away. 

---------

We went to the bar as soon as most of the girls were freed from the arena. Some of the male wrestlers had followed them as well though Riho had told her. Her English still wasn’t the best, so Brit and Brandi could have said something completely different and it didn’t fully translate. That or the boys just brought themselves. I didn’t care. I had no interest in any of them. I was too busy with a drink in my hand. It had been a while since I had alcohol which helped mend the fact that it had been a while since I was not used to being in crowds. I had hidden in my room for so long. This was the most I had other than going to the store. 

The problem with it being so long is that I wasn't as tolerant to alcohol as I used to be. I could feel how lightweight I was by the first beer. I didn't care though. Kenny wanted me to go out and have fun and this was definitely making it more fun. 

I was soon dancing on the dance floor with a couple of girls. I was actually enjoying it. Giggling with them. I had forgotten everything that happened these last few months. Kenny was right I needed this. 

Someone had to ruin my fun though. A guy soon came by and pressed his junk hard against me. I groaned as I turned around to see who the boy was. "Fuck off," I told him. "You aren't getting shit." I slurred him. I tried to smack him, but I stumbled a bit since he moved from it. 

"Feisty," he chuckled. "I like them feisty. Now, come on, I will give you a fun ride." He sneered at me. He grabbed my arm to pull me close to him. I tried to fight him off. It was no use. The man was stronger than me. 

"Hey!" Someone yelled from the back of the crowd as he moved forward. The voice was rough and husky. I turned to see a tall muscular man coming towards us. He had a short reddish-brown that you could tell was thinning at the top. He had a well-groomed beard. When I met his pale blue eyes it was like lighting between us. He grabbed the guy who had touched me by the collar. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you how to treat a lady, Sammy?” He asked. “If she says no that doesn’t mean force your tiny ass penis on her more?” He said as he pulled him away from me. “Hey, mind your damn business,” Sammy said as he pushed the man back. The other man stumbled back. A fight broke out between the two men. I was shocked. It had to be the tipsiness in me, but I couldn’t help, but think this was kinda hot. The man had gotten the upper hand on him. Sammy ran off into the crowd trying to fix himself from the embarrassment he just had. 

The man turned to me. I smiled slightly. I could feel my cheeks starting to get hot. “Thank you for that. I didn’t think he would leave me alone.” 

He shrugged. “He had it coming for being a disrespectful little prick. He doesn’t know how to treat a woman right.” 

“Well, thank you anyway, my knight, in shining armor.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek softly. 

He grinned, “I don’t know about that now. I am not much of a knight.” “Well, I would love to buy you a drink on me,” I said. As I moved towards the bar I could feel myself start to stumble on my own feet. 

“I think you have had enough to drink for tonight.” He said. “How about I get you home?” 

I looked around for any of the girls I had come with. I had lost them in the fight. Kenny would most likely kill me for going home with a random guy, but I had no idea where anyone else had gone. To be honest, I wasn’t looking that hard. I nodded, taking the hand that he moved out for me to take. 

“You never told me your name,” I mentioned as we got to his car. 

He opened the door for me, “Jon.” He got into the car. “What is yours?” 

“Ashlynn.” 

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He winked with a slight chuckle. “Where am I taking you?” 

I told him the hotel I was staying in. He smiled which confused me. “That is the same hotel I am staying in tonight.” 

“Mhm, maybe you were meant to come and save me, and be my brave knight.” 

“Are you always so corny?”  He laughed. I couldn’t help but love his laugh. 

“Maybe. I am pretty sure it’s just the alcohol. That and I haven’t exactly been around people a lot lately. I have been living in my own world after my world kind of came crumbling down. “I know that feeling.” He nodded. “This isn’t a pass at you or anything, but if you’d like I could take you up to your room and we could talk it out. Alcohol isn’t exactly a good way to deal with it.” I opened my mouth to say yes, but then I remembered that I was sharing a room with Kenny. He would be livid that I didn’t come back with Riho and that I got into the car with this strange man. He wouldn’t be so nice. “How about your room?” She asked. “Mine has my brother and I don’t think he will like some random guy from a bar in his room.” 

“Nah, and I don’t need to get into another fight because of you,” He winked teasing me. “Come on, I will help you sober up a bit.” He pulled into the parking lot outside the hotel. He got out of the car and ran over to open the door for me. I blushed a bit as he took my hand and walked with me into the hotel. It was nice to actually be getting some attention from a guy. Even before the break-up, my ex had been harsh and barely wanted to touch me. I could tell he was slipping away before it even happened. I had been naive enough to think that I could make it stop. 

Once we were in Jon’s room, he shut the door behind us. He handed me a glass of water. I started to drink it, noticing how thirsty I was once the liquid hit my lips. I could feel my mind clearing up as I drank the water. I started to feel more nervous being in a room with a guy I only knew by the first name. When alcohol was still clouding my mind, this seemed like an okay decision. Now, I wasn’t so sure. 

“I don’t think you should have sobered me up. I may run out of this room now before you get your way with me.” I teased to help calm my nerves and end the awkward silence between us. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, “Or maybe that was my plan all along.” He winked at me. My heart skipped when I saw him wink at me. He smiled at me with his dimples showing perfectly. How in the hell was a guy like this interested in her? He was built like someone you would find in a romance novel, not a guy you would actually meet in the bar. In her experience, most of those were missing teeth or had a few STDs on their lips. He had none of that. He was honestly the sexiest guy she had seen. She could see better now that she was out of the dim lights of the club. His white t-shirt hugged his biceps almost perfectly. He had never missed a leg day because even his jeans hugged him perfectly. No wonder he had never made a move yet. There was no way I could be his type. He needs a girl more like him. 

I wasn’t ugly or anything like that. I was just well, average. My brown hair which waved at the ends fell to my shoulders. I was slender with not much boobs or ass, but decent enough. I couldn’t twerk, but my ass looked somewhat good in jeans. I had a little to grab.  go My pale hazel eyes were the best-looking part about me. It was why I wore a lot of eye makeup to make them pop even more so guys would ignore the rest of me. 

Jon and I slowly began talking to fill the awkward silence in the air. It wasn’t anything that deep, but it was nice to just talk to someone and he was probably the easiest guy to talk to. He was so laid back in every single way and had some amazing stories. He had me laughing like crazy. He made me laugh so hard I snorted at one-pointed. I covered my mouth completely embarrassed. He laughed at me, only causing me to blush harder.  

“I am sorry, that was just cute.” He said as he reached for my hand. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed at all for me. I won’t judge you.” His words were so sincere that I felt like I could trust him. He leaned into her. “I also know I said I wouldn’t take advantage of you, so you can leave after I say this, but you are honestly the most beautiful girl. I am glad that I came to the bar tonight.” He leaned in more, closing most of the space between us. I couldn’t believe what was happening. His soft lips were soon against mine. He wrapped a hand on my waist, pulling me close. 

Now, the smart side of my brain was telling me that I needed to smack him in the face. I needed to tell him off and walk out of the room. Just because he saved you from one creep doesn’t mean he isn’t one himself. The other side of my brain was taking over though. I wanted to kiss him so badly. The smell of his cologne filling my nose.  I kissed back wrapping my arms around his neck. In that second, it became more heated between us. He licked my bottom lip as he begged for access which I happily gave to him. I allowed him to explore every inch of my mouth before I wrapped my tongue with his. He pulled me onto his lap making me straddle him. I could feel his already hard dick pressed hard against me. It's been so long that I had no willpower to fight it. I needed him. I needed this physical contact that I was unaware I even craved anymore. 

I rolled my hips across him. I could feel myself starting to soak through my underwear. I bit my lip trying to hold in a moan. He must have taken notice because he pushed himself up against my core. I gasped as I felt him brush against my clit. His eyes dark as he flipped me onto the bed laying me on my back. He kissed down my neck, dragging his teeth on it. He was sending chills down my spine as he went. Once he reached my shirt, he pulled it up. His warm hands cupping my breasts as they pushed passed my bra. His hands were rough against my soft skin. I didn't mind. It felt amazing. His lips met my stomach as he began to kiss it. He undid my pants with one hand yanking them down to my knees. He pushed my panties to the side and licked ever so lightly against my lips before he kissed down my thighs. He moved his face back to my core. I could feel his hot breath sending goosebumps up my body. I didn't know what he was waiting for, but the anticipation was killing me. I bucked my hips. "Please Jon, I want this," I begged softly. That seemed to be what he was waiting for. He pushed his head back in my heat and licked my lower lips. He spread me open with his fingers still licking long stride before he focused his attention on my clit. He licked circles around it making me buck my hips towards him. God, I wanted more. He wrapped his arm around my hips holding me down as he sucked my clit. He pulled it into his mouth and sucked before making a slight popping noise to release it. I tried my hardest to move it back towards him. I could tell he was loving teasing me. He licked around my hole before he dove into it. He licked in circles before he thrust in and outside. I threw my head back as I arched towards him. My hands fell to his head as I tried to make sure he couldn’t get away with pulling back and teasing me more. I could feel him smirking against me before he went back to work. It wasn’t long before my high was coming close. I was moaning his name like prayer as my pussy clenched around his tongue. He picked up the pace of his tongue and carried it on through as I came all over his face. 

As he pulled away, I saw him licking his lips. “You taste like heaven.” He smiled as he kissed me again. My hands went down to his jeans. I could feel that his dick begging for freedom. I undid his pants and pulled them down. My hands went to his chest as I pushed him onto the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head as he laid back. I couldn’t help, but pause to stare at his body. It was almost perfect. I ran my hand down his abs. He didn’t have to flex them for me to feel his abs perfectly. His V was outlined perfectly as I ran a finger down them.  I slowly kissed his chest before I moved to his V. It was a good thing that I was so lost in lust or I might be nervous about this. All I could think about was giving him the same pleasure that he had given me. 

I wrapped my lips around him as I slowly started to bob, swirling around my tongue around his base. I began to take more of him into my mouth. I, soon, pushed him all the way down my throat. He groaned as he wrapped his fingers through my hair. He thrust towards my mouth. I gagged. My first reaction was to pull off, but he held my head there for a bit longer. He pushed a couple more times down my throat before he released my head. He pulled me back up towards him. His blue eyes met mine. “Are you sure about this?” He asked me. I didn’t even have to think. I didn’t even respond with words. I just smirked as I slid on top of his dick. His hands landed onto my hips as I began to move them against him. We still hadn’t broken eye contact. I moved my hips faster as I began to bounce on him. He dug his nails into my hips as he thrust back up into me. I threw my head back as my eyes rolled back into my head. 

He flipped us over so that I was on my back. He hooked my legs putting them over my shoulders. He pushed back inside me. He started out slowly at first then he started on a brutal pace, going fast and deep.  I gripped the bed sheets as he moved in and out of me. I moaned loudly as I pushed my hips against him. It wasn’t long till I could feel my pussy clenching around him tightly as my high was getting close. He reached his hand over as he began to rub my clit. “Cum baby.” He said his voice was rougher than before. It forced me over the edge as I came all over his dick. He wasn’t far behind me as he pulled out suddenly cumming all over my stomach. 

He got up from the bed grabbing a towel as he carefully whipped my stomach off before cleaning himself off. I missed his warm cum on me, but it was soon replaced by his warm arms. I didn’t mind it. He held me close as he ran his fingers through my hair. It didn’t take me long before I was sound asleep. It was the easiest I had fallen asleep in days. 

--- 

I could hear a soft ring as I began to slowly open my eyes. My head was pounding in my head. I slowly opened my eyes and noticed I was in a hotel room, but it wasn't mine. The room was very similar, but the artwork gave it away til my eyes could see clearer. I could see my clothes on the floor mixed in with someone else. I looked over to the side of the bed to see a man sleeping next to me. In my drunken state last night, I had never put two and two together. Jon was actually Jon Moxley. The one Kenny told me to stay away from. 

As I looked at him with the sunlight coming through the window,  I felt bad for doing this, but if Kenny found out I was dead. I quickly grabbed my clothes throwing them on. I kissed his head before I headed out the door.

[whitehotharlots]

This is not going to be the end of MeToo

A dream is floating around the heads of Dirtbag Leftists. A beautiful, wonderful dream… A Biden nomination, and especially a Biden presidency, has shown the MeToo movement for what it really is: a collection of amoral careerists cynically, arbitrarily exploiting sexual assault claims to raise their own professional status and settle personal scores. The movement is ideologically bankrupt, monstrously hypocritical, and utterly unconcerned with helping vulnerable people. Everyone paying attention must now admit to this, and, once admitted to, the hags and scolds will no longer wield so much power, and will lose their ability to wreck actual leftist movements with specious accusations regarding finger wags and epigenetic trauma.

Oh lord, how lovely this would be.

Take this quote from Felix Biederman of Chapo Trap House, who says that a Biden presidency

would eviscerate the liberal media identity politics industrial complex. Because Biden-World has no use for those people. Like, Democrats just spent a week going “Don’t call it the Chinese virus.” Then Joe comes out there and he’s like “we’re gonna send them back, Jack.” [ . . . ] Someone was saying this entire primary was a referendum against Bernie and his ideas, (and depending on how much of a fucking loser you are [a referendum] on a podcast you don’t like). If that’s true, isn’t also true that this is a referendum on everything the liberal media has lectured everyone about since 2014? Doesn’t this prove that no one cares about that shit? Biden’s a complete refutation of all of that.

Biederman is one of the funniest and most astute political observers of our time. His observations here are correct from a moral standpoint. He is also correct from a “describing reality” standpoint. But he is not taking into account the degree that MeToo is and has always been propelled by cynical careerism.

The general consensus is that the arbitrary weaponization of MeToo is now so plainly obvious that anyone sharper than, say, Sady Doyle must recognize that and will have to account for it. For this to happen, however, we have to assume the MeToo’s purveyors are at all concerned with not coming across as amoral hypocrites. And let me tell you—I know a lot of these people, I have sat with them in classes, I have gone to their conferences, I am deeply immersed in their culture. They have no capacity for shame and even less for self-awareness. They don’t care if the entire world thinks them to be hypocrites—if anything, the scorn of outsiders only increases their self-certainty.

This has all been obvious since day one, and not just to cranks like myself. Call it the Law of Zero Tolerance: the more draconian a policy is, the more arbitrarily it’s going to be enforced. More conscientious writers are now insisting that MeToo has always been a humble call for authorities to be less skeptical toward sexual assault accusations, and for men on the whole to be more aware of how their behaviors can harm women. This is very reasonable-seeming. It’s also absolutely not how MeToo was handled. The hashtag was #BelieveWomen. It wasn’t #BeLessSkeptical. The formal line—stated explicitly, as clear as could be—is that men needed to be punished, that false or incorrect accusations were absolutely fine, that any and all allegations were abject and absolute proof of guilt, and that no matter how implausible or trivial or even physically impossible an accusation was, the accused always—always—deserved punishment.

Such a terrifying dynamic obviously could not be fully enforced—society would collapse. It has instead only gained traction in arenas that were already relatively equalitarian and liberal-minded: education, academe, media, and left-liberal politics. It was not intended to make these spaces more equitable; it was instead a means for women of gaining leverage within these spaces. That’s it. And because it’s always solely been an attempt to shift power dynamics, criticism has always been met with vicious resistance. As I’ve said: lots and lots of people have been aware of the movement’s cynicism since the beginning. Men and women have talked to me in private about it for over a half decade now. But they keep their mouths shut in public spaces because they realize that every neurotic shitty woman around them has now been gifted the power of the creepy kid from the old Twlight Zone episode who could wish bad people into the corn field. All they have to do is declare you a very bad man (or a very bad ally) and that’s it, your career is fucked.

No matter how mild, respectful, or thorough a person’s criticism may be, uttering a single word against MeToo renders one persona non grata within liberal spaces. Trust me, plenty of people have wanted to push back, but they kept their mouths shut because they valued their jobs. More people will want to push back now, probably, but the dynamic is still in place: shitheads have a new means of achieving power and prominence, and now that they’ve achieved success they have no reasons to suddenly start being decent.

Our society is designed to reward cynical liars. The less principles you have, the more shameless you are, the easier it is for you to succeed. The shitheads who have floated to the top of the MeToo heap are now even more insulated from scrutiny than they were before. And, trust me, none of them are going to give up a hint of power. They’re not gonna admit they were wrong or dishonest, that’s for damn sure. Instead, as the stakes have gotten higher and the landscape is growing even more austere, they’re going to double down. Bad faith will rule us all until the final collapse hits.

[dweemeister]

Pinky (1949)

Hollywood’s plodding shift to featuring films starring and/or made by non-white people has produced stories and perspectives that have never graced cinemas before. Some of the American films that have stirred me are rooted in racial identity. The 1934 and 1959 adaptations of Imitation of Life are two such examples, and both tackle a subject that has not been addressed in Hollywood for decades – a black person passing as white and the conflicts of identity that inspires. Both versions of Imitation of Life are blessed with heartbreaking acting and ideas rarely uttered or depicted in film history. But I can imagine some viewers dismissing both films without attempting to engage them – the two adaptations have a black female lead that assumes certain “mammy” stereotypes and the 1959 version’s passing daughter character is mixed-race but is not black.

Released by 20th Century Fox, Elia Kazan’s Pinky (based on the novel Quality by Cid Ricketts Sumner) casts Jeanne Crain, a white actress, as the titular character: a fair-skinned black granddaughter who passes as white. It is without question that Crain’s casting undermines Pinky’s wonderful and nuanced message. Fox’s chief executive, Darryl F. Zanuck, and the Breen Office (which enforced the Hays Code) noted that because the title character loves a white man, the film – if it chose a black actress to play Pinky – could face an intense public backlash from "a number of sections of [the United States].” All but twelve states had anti-miscegenation laws in their books in 1949. Compromises were struck between Zanuck and the Production Office. Fox could make the film and keep the interracial romance (the screenplay was written in consultation with NAACP Executive Secretary Walter White) only if a white actress played Pinky. With Crain’s casting, the production moved forward, despite director Elia Kazan’s opposition to Crain’s selection.

On a sweltering day in the Deep South, Pinky Johnson (Crain) has returned to her impoverished rural hometown, hoping to see her grandmother Dicey (Ethel Waters) one final time before returning to the North. Dicey raised Pinky through her childhood and teenage years, with no mentions of allusions to biological or foster parents. Dicey is heartbroken to hear her granddaughter has downplayed her blackness during her time at nursing school, but is happy to learn that Pinky has graduated. To complicate matters, Pinky also tells of her love of a white doctor, Thomas Adams (William Lundigan), to whom she has revealed nothing of her black ancestry to. In addition, while attempting to collect her grandmother’s debts while in town, Pinky is involved in an incident with a Dr. Canady (Kenny Washington) and his significant other, Roselia (Nina Mae McKinney). The police arrive at the scene and apprehend all three. After being fortunately released from custody with just a warning – black people have been killed for far less by American police – Dicey learns that her elderly white neighbor, Miss Em (Ethel Barrymore), is dying and needs a nurse. Pinky, remembering how Miss Em was cruel and disparaging to her during her childhood, decides to extend her stay.

Also appearing in this film are the town’s doctor Joe McGill (Griff Barnett) and the gossiping Melba Wooley (Evelyn Varden, whose character is lacking a moral compass). Juanita Moore has a cameo as a nurse.

From the opening shots of Pinky, it almost feels as if it was shot on location somewhere in the Southern United States. Early in the film, there is an uncut tracking shot clocking in at almost ninety seconds as Pinky walks from the front of Dicey’s shack to the low cast iron gates of Miss Em’s slave-built estate. The sets, almost entirely constructed on a soundstage, are deep enough so that the audience cannot pinpoint the soundstage’s back wall. The foliage looms over dirt roads and buildings – the canopies, blowing in the wind, are never seen. Kazan, in retrospect, criticized his own film for not including the dirt and grime that need not be manufactured with location shooting. But these fabrications – thanks to cinematographer Joseph MacDonald (1958’s The Young Lions, 1966’s The Sand Pebbles) and art directors J. Russell Spencer (1936’s Modern Times, 1946’s Dragonwyck) and Lyle R. Wheeler (1939’s Gone with the Wind, 1956’s The King and I) – still evoke the small-town South. One can feel the humid heat permeating through the night, amid Spanish moss and the racial inequality built into public spaces and homes*. For those who do not live in such places, small dots on a regional map, the scenery envelops the viewer, allowing them to further understand the cultural disorientation of any visitor to Pinky’s hometown.

Though the film is a drama, Kazan borrows horror elements to frame the setting and highlight the racial tension that pervades this Southern town. Expressionist lighting overhangs shots of foggy forests, a graveyard, tight roads, and derelict/near-derelict buildings. During the night, these surrounding appear as if taken from a disturbing lucid dream. The lurking dangers are embodied through the racist and sexist characters that Pinky encounters. With this marriage of setting and supporting cast of flawed characters, Pinky could be classified as a Southern Gothic tale – a subgenre that uses the grotesque to comment on the American South’s culture. Kazan’s filmmaking here awakens the audience to Pinky’s inner turmoil over her racial identity and belonging. Freed from worrying about racial prejudice in the North due to her passing, she is terrified about what it means to be a black woman in the place of her childhood. Miss Em’s cousin, Melba, perhaps exemplifies the white residents’ racial animosity when she meets Pinky for the first time. What she says is a statement of curiosity, an expression of Southern gentility, and a veiled threat all at once: “I heard you were light, but I had no idea. Why, you’re practically white.”

Does Pinky still feel like she belongs to this poor village? That question, among others, has an answer. She must first navigate this racism, for the first time, as an adult. By film’s end and despite all outward appearances of success, it is unclear if Pinky is satisfied with the answer she has uncovered.

The interrogation of Pinky’s blackness truly begins when Miss Em quickly realizes the identity of the young woman tending to her bedside as a hospice nurse. Miss Em, though bedridden, attempts to reinforce her authority over Pinky – a relationship assuming Pinky’s immaturity and based on tacit racial subservience (for the latter, refer to both Imitation of Life films even as the white mother characters fully realize Louise Beavers/Juanita Moore’s humanity). No longer a child, Pinky will not tolerate Miss Em’s racial condescension. It matters not that the patient is drifting in and out of consciousness during her final hours. Miss Em will be more respectful towards Pinky in the face of this bedside manner. Perhaps she is chastened by Dicey’s friendship and the favor that Pinky need not return; perhaps she is admiring of the newfound strength in the young girl she used to berate; perhaps it is due to the drugs coursing through her body. That all or some of these factors can be interpreted as true empowers the film’s final act, as screenwriters Philip Dunne (1941’s How Green Was My Valley), Dudley Nichols (1938’s Bringing Up Baby), Jane White (no other film credits), and Kazan obfuscate any simple resolutions to the film’s sense of racial justice. Pinky validates anyone who might see the film as confirming that the harshest of souls can cool their racist predispositions, or that it is impossible to reform such persons.

Though Jeanne Crain’s casting captured the headlines, the best performances in the film are from the two Ethels. As Miss Em, Ethel Barrymore has little physical acting, so she must rely almost entirely in her verbal deliveries. Alternating between exhausted observation, acidic riposte, and resignation, Barrymore navigates these final hours of her character’s life with the requisite modulations in tone. Despite being on screen for less time than Crain and Waters, Barrymore – as Miss Em – inhabits a character with the most dynamic development, routinely stealing scenes even while confined to bed. Six years after starring and “taking a chance on love” in Cabin in the Sky (1943), the deeply religious Ethel Waters commands yet another accomplished performance in Pinky. As Dicey, she plays probably the least dynamic of the three principal characters, but Waters’ anguish and understated sense of egalitarianism is a fascinating contrast to Pinky’s drifting stoicism upon her arrival at Dicey’s shack. For the Ethels, they are playing roles analogous to those they had previously assumed. But Barrymore’s elderly curmudgeons rarely commented so directly on race; Waters’ hardened maternal figures seldom interacted with white people. Together, they form an imperfect, uneasy coexistence – a postbellum relationship grounded in necessity and deferred acceptance of the other.

Prior to Kazan’s arrival on set, John Ford (1939’s Stagecoach, 1946’s My Darling Clementine) had already directed a significant bulk of Pinky. Viewing the rushes, Darryl F. Zanuck was embarrassed by the footage Ford had shot, stating that, “Ford’s Negroes were like Aunt Jemima caricatures. I thought we [were] going to get into trouble.” Indeed, Ford was a dreadful fit, given the source material and the director’s reputation (Ford’s reputation on making introspective films about racial relations was dire, and he would not possess the basic skillset to make such a film until 1960’s Sergeant Rutledge). The cast, upon learning they were going to work with the best director in Hollywood at the time, were ecstatic the decision until it became clear his abrasive demeanor intimidated Crain and especially Waters. Zanuck quietly dismissed Ford in favor of Kazan (coming off 1947’s Gentlemen’s Agreement, which decried anti-Semitism), stating in public that Ford came down with a case of the shingles. Ford, as you have correctly guessed, never had the shingles. None of Ford’s work survives in the final print of Pinky.

Pinky was justifiably attacked by black critics for Crain’s casting over Lena Horne (who had lobbied for the role). The film, a compromise between 20th Century Fox and the Breen Office, contains mixed messages about racial integration and the nature of interracial friendship and love. The thematic confusion interferes with the film’s obvious, well-meaning intentions and the stellar performances from Ethel Barrymore and Ethel Waters. In its final form, one can only imagine how damaging Pinky may have been if John Ford remained with the production rather than Kazan. Within the artistic constraints of Hollywood studio filmmaking and the regressive perspectives of too many Americans, Pinky inspires a torrent of conflicting emotions as it struggles to form a coherent thesis. In a peculiar way, the muddled messaging is also a reflection of Pinky and mixed-race persons themselves, as they strive to understand what to make of themselves.

My rating: 6.5/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

* In the scene where Pinky goes to a general store late in the film, notice the racial composition of the customers and how they react to Pinky. Also, Dicey’s shack is aesthetically reminiscent to sharecropper hovels or slave living quarters.

[backtothestart02bts]

He Kisses Me When - Dr. 6-10 | westallen fanfiction

More drabbles. :)

...

6. When I am relaxing in the bath

An audible sigh escapes me as I slowly sink into the warm bath water, my hair up in a bun and my body aching from the long day of running around the city in pursuit of evidence for a serial killer that caught my interest. My Dad and Barry don’t know about it. Only Cisco does, and mum’s the word. I just have to hope he won’t tell Caitlin, because she – ironically – can’t tolerate secrets now and will go straight to Barry (he’ll take to her better), who will then try to process how to respond to the situation.

I didn’t lie to him this time, so he can’t be mad about that. (I feel guilty every time I have to do that when I believe so strongly in a story that if false promises need to be made to keep my husband from preventing me from following through on them, so be it. I’m glad I didn’t have to do that this time though.) This time I was simply very crafty and kept all knowledge of what I was doing from both of the very protective men in my life.

My dad will naturally walk in on my husband trying to decide how to react and give his very strong opinion, which will convince my husband to have that same opinion and to carry out his wishes, which he will no doubt do, albeit much nicer than my dad would have done.

In the end I’m mad, so I’m hoping Cisco is a good secret-keeper and that at least my dad doesn’t know. Barry I can calm with kisses and love declarations and sex. Dad is a little harder.

Throwing all that to the wayside, I let my thoughts slip away and close my eyes as the water swallows me whole save for my head pressed against the far side and my toes peeking out by the faucet.

I’m so content I don’t hear or feel the wind from the door opening and closing, but I hear his voice and know I’m in trouble.

“Joe told me what you were digging up today.”

My eyes flash open, and I turn to look at him, I can explain on the tip of my tongue.

“Are you mad?” I ask instead, nibbling on my bottom lip.

He shakes his head and crosses the room to me.

“You’re not?” My brows fuse together.

He chuckles. “No. I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you.”

I grin as he leans down to kiss me and then gasp as he climbs into the bathtub fully clothed save for his shoes, socks, and jacket.

“Barry! What are you-” I squeal, but he only laughs and settles himself on the other end, having to bend his knees up considerably so he can fit the full length. I laugh too then because he just looks so uncomfortable. “Barry,” I coo, shaking my head.

“This idea was better in my head,” he admits.

So, so in love with him, I get on my knees and crawl over to him, climbing into his laps and well aware of how his eyes keep drifting down to my breasts.

“Let me make you comfortable,” I say, and this time I’m the one to kiss him.

.

7. When I am searching for something I lost

I can’t find them anywhere. They’re pretty jewels hanging from a pearl strand that go perfectly with my dress, and I can’t find them anywhere!

Barry’s trying to help. I know he is. But he doesn’t know how I organize my make-up or my clothes. I’m supposed to expect him to know where my jewelry is?

No, I don’t think so.

Still, as I pace back and forth throughout our bedroom and bathroom, I can’t help but be aware of him standing in the middle of the bedroom, not moving to avoid me running into him, and running his hand through his hair, gripping his locks because he doesn’t know what to do to help me and he’s afraid to do nothing.

“Iris…”

“Yeah, Barry?” I ask, still digging through drawers of jewelry and make-up.

And then it must occur to him what he can do, because he takes one step, halts me with his hands on my arms and kisses me before I can stop him, his lips pressed to mine in a surprisingly sensuous kiss.

Something occurs to me, and I break away.

“What? What?” His eyes are wide.

“My coat pocket.” I grin wide and instantly take off for the stairs.

He follows me quickly and watches as I reach the door, then the coat hangers, then my dress coat and reach inside.

“No,” he says in disbelief.

My smile spreads somehow further as I turn to dangle the earrings before him.

“Guess you’re my lucky charm, Allen,” I say, and I know I’ve boosted his ego, but I don’t care.

Barry Allen is my everything.

.

8. When I am mad

I’m boiling, absolutely infuriated. Nothing could make me madder in this instant, but Wally – who has just woken up from his night over on the couch – somehow achieves that feat by asking what the big deal is.

“Oh, no,” Barry says as I turn to face my brother, my fingers curled into fists at my side so I don’t start clawing his eyes out with my fingernails.

“What’s the big deal?”

“Sorry for what?” Wally asks aloud, and I know Barry has just mouthed to his brother-in-law to apologize. “So your editor didn’t like your story. Write another one.”

I stomp toward him, unable to decide which infuriates me more, him not realizing what the big deal is or him not feeling bad about the fact that he’s made me so mad.

I finally see him worrying for his own safety at least as I get closer because he’s backing up and has himself pinned to the wall before I’m inches away pointing my finger at him.

“The ‘big deal’ is that this story will change lives. The ‘big deal’ is that I risked my life getting the information to write this story-”

“Wait, what?” His eyes widen and Barry’s face falls into his palm.

I probably shouldn’t have informed my little brother about that part. Oops.

“The big deal is-”

“Uh-uh, you’re not getting out of it that easily. Your life? What happened, Iris?” He’s suddenly soft with me, and part of me loves it, but the part of me that’s still mad at him doesn’t. How dare he be concerned when he could’ve cared less about the story two seconds ago!

“Iris?” Barry tries, and for some god forsaken reason I turn around and address him.

“What?” I demand, though he hardly deserves it.

He walks up to me, sets his hands on my shoulders, and looks me in the eye.

“If anyone can change that man’s mind, it’s you.” He lowers his head to kiss me, and I reciprocate – much to Wally’s annoyance. “I love you.”

I melt. Completely melt into his embrace.

“I love you, too.”

“Ugh. Get a room, you two,” Wally says, and actually leaves the loft. I don’t care. He’ll be back later for pizza and telling me how great of a writer and big sister I am – if history has told me anything.

Right now my husband is kissing me, and there’s not much more to care about than that.

.

9. When I talk too much (to shut me up)

I’m unaware – completely – that I’m rambling almost as fast as my husband can when he’s excited. I think said husband is listening intently as I rail on about something that happened at work, something stupid, something that was both good and bad and I can’t stop talking about.

“And so then-” I stop talking to laugh. “I can’t believe it. Can you believe that, Barry?” I smack his chest lightly. He winces, but not because it hurt.

“He – they – it actually, oh my God.”

He forces a smile. “Mhmm.”

“Barry, are you listening?” I frown.

He nods. “Yep.” So I continue again.

It’s not until several minutes later when honestly I’ve forgotten what I was talking about before I started repeating myself and laughing at what I remembered but didn’t say aloud and how Barry has been awfully quiet, and I think to myself have I been talking this whole time???

“Barry, what was I talking about?” I ask, the fact that he was falling asleep beyond me and not worth discussing because it hasn’t really hit me yet.

“Um…”

“Oh, nevermind, I remember.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He sits up quickly and leans in with a rush.

“What- Mmm,” comes my muffled moan, and I think to myself, maybe kissing is better than talking right now.

.

10. When I am scared

I’m hiding under the desk in my office. There’s been a citywide alert for a new meta that can control electricity. Several people have been electrocuted and now the whole city’s power is out, gathered up in this meta’s body.

Barry’s running around saving people. Cisco and Caitlin are busy helping him out from STAR Labs, where I should be. Barry and my dad told me to stay put. They don’t want me to be the next person electrocuted. For some reason I listen to them, since I have no protective gear and STAR Labs isn’t exactly close.

But because I’m not helping out, all I can think about is how scared I am. Not just for me, but for the whole of Central City, for Barry, because he’s my Barry, and I won’t feel safe until he’s in front of me again, warm and happy and safe himself, even if the city-wide power outage is still in place.

The lights turn on, and my phone rings. My cell. I see who it is and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Barry?” Hope and tears are in my voice, and in a flurry he’s there before me, his grin faltering for a moment when he can’t tell if I’m okay. “Barry.” Relief spills off my tongue, and I nearly crumble until he’s there catching me and holding me close.

“I’m okay, Iris. Everything’s all right.”

He’s stroking my hair tenderly, holding me up, and I’m telling myself to believe what I’m saying.

“I know…I know…”

Oh, his chest is so solid, his arms so strong, his words a sweet lullaby against my skin.

“Iris…” he urges softly, and I lift my head, tears welling in my eyes.

“You came back to me,” I say, though he always does. I shouldn’t doubt it by this point.

He nods, smiles shakily, cups my face in his hands and kisses me, warm and soft.

“Always,” he whispers when we part, and suddenly, I’m not scared anymore.

[purplesurveys]

861

Are there any common survey questions that are irrelevant to you? Marriage and kids questions like what the previous person said, but only because I’m not at that point yet. I also obviously can’t relate to questions that are specifically meant for a North American audience, like ones that ask about what I bought at Wal-Mart or Trader Joe’s or whatever.

Do you have any eating habits that others think are strange? Yeah, a few. I prefer mayo for dipping fries as opposed to ketchup and a lot of people think that’s weird. I also eat a mostly vegetarian diet. < A mayo ally, yaaas. To add to this I eat a lot of stuff with mayo too, which has met hostile reactions through the years because mayo is apparently unpopular. What else... when I eat fried chicken I usually leave the chicken meat untouched; I just like the skin. I also dislike fruits. This makes me sound like such a picky eater but I’m really not lol

Are there any fictional characters you feel strong connections with? They’re mostly professional wrestlers, which technically count because most of them play fictional gimmicks or characters. I’ve always felt a connection CM Punk which is why he’s been my favorite for like nine years straight now, even though he’s been retired for six.

Does your voice sound different when it’s recorded? No. It sounds the same as how I hear it unrecorded, and I probably fall into the 1% who has no problem hearing her recorded voice.

Is there anyone you wish you were closer to/anyone you want to get to know? Not at this point. I had wanted to know our newest batch of applicants for our org, but Covid happened and that ruined any chances of me being able to do that throughout the semester; and since I’m graduating it’s not like I’ll get to see them anymore after this. 

What was the first movie you ever remember watching? Stuart Little 2.

Do you ever sit and read books in bookstores, then not buy them? Sometimes, if the books are already open and if there are seats available. Fully Booked will sometimes provide chairs for people who wanna start reading there, which is a feature of theirs I’ve always loved.

Is there a story behind how you got your name? My parents tell contrasting stories and I think they’ve genuinely just forgotten the real story behind it. Some days they’ll tell me that they encountered the Swedish singer Robyn on TV once and liked the name enough to lock it in for me. Other days they’ll tell me that Robyn was simply a good unisex name to pick. There’s definitely a story out there, I’m just not sure which one it is.

Do you have a favorite film director? If not, what’s your favorite genre? Stanley Kubrick is for sure my favorite but I haven’t been as vocal about my admiration for him these days because of all the stuff he did during the filming of The Shining that got exposed; and if I tried to defend him, Twitter would just bully the shit out of me. If I’m engaging with people who I know wouldn’t tolerate my love for Kubrick I just say Darren Aronofsky, who’s another favorite of mine. But Kubrick is absolutely my #1 when it comes down to his work.

Is dream interpretation something that interests you? No. I’m not interested and I don’t believe in it.

Are there any accents you find blatantly unappealing? Probably a general American accent because I hear so much of it already.

What qualities do you admire in a person? Perseverance is a big one. I love a good survival, rise-from-the-ashes story.

What historical periods/events, if any, do you find the most interesting to hear about? I enjoy social history more than stories about wars or various revolutions. So it doesn’t matter what era or period I’m reading on, but as long as I get to know the education system at the time, their eating habits, the foods they ate, what they’d wear on a daily basis – everyday life, basically – then consider my interest piqued.

Is there a certain song that reminds you of your current relationship? Sure. Gabie made two playlists for us four years ago when we first started dating, and I had those on repeat for a long time; I haven’t listened to the playlists in a while, but the songs will still remind me of our relationship if I encounter them somewhere else.

Do you like to sleep in, or do you prefer to be out of bed early? These days I like getting out of bed early because there’s no reason for me to sleep in anyway. I don’t go to school anymore and I don’t have work, so for me to not go crazy with the nothingness that’s been going on for four months, I have to get up early and find something to do before depression catches me.

Are there any superstitions you buy into, personally? Just one. It’s a popular local superstition based in my school that I and many other students buy into just for the shits and giggles. They say that if you took a photo with the statue at the very front of our school, you’ll end up getting delayed and not graduating in four years. It’s bullshit obviously, but I still insisted that I don’t have any photos anywhere near it during my time as an undergrad. For anyone who made it up to this point of the survey and is curious, the statue is called the Oblation.

Regardless of whether you believe in astrology or not– if you’ve checked it out, of course– does your personality coincide with the given traits for your star sign? Some of it, like the fact that Tauruses are loyal, always think they’re right (lol), and love their food. I hate astrology though and I don’t like befriending people who make it their world.

What was the last film you cried during? If you’ve never cried watching one, what was the last film that moved you in some way? I haven’t watched the whole film since catching it in theatres but I did revisit the ending to Portrait of a Lady on Fire a couple of weeks ago, and it made me cry.

Are politics something you enjoy discussing? I wouldn’t say I enjoy it, but I am very political. I pay attention and I get very passionate about it. I don’t like fighting with close minded people about my opinions/stances. If you can communicate/debate like an adult I don’t have a problem with those kinds of discussions. < There we go.

What is your LEAST favorite song by your favorite band/artist? Ooooooh this question is MEAN lol. I’d have to say Ain’t It Fun. I feel like I’m committing a crime because it’s pretty much Paramore’s most popular song now, but I just never enjoyed it too much.

[phantomphangphucker]

Why Am I The Confused One Here? - Phic Phight

Prompt Creator: @deredereart  Prompt: Valerie is questioned after a round of lazer tag with some friends because of her ridiculously good aim. Summary: Laser Tag has never had a weirder ending

No warnings apply

I can’t help my smirk as I look at the scoreboard, it’s no surprise to me that I have the most points but otherwise I’m damn surprised. Literally, all of us did damn well, I was kind of expecting to do drastically better than them instead of just marginally better. Who came in last is definitely no surprise though, he’s probably the most unfit person in our class.

That’s made even more obvious by his out of breath remark, “hey Val! That was weirdly good”

“Yeah! You hit nearly every shot you took. You do this a lot or something?”

Turning my head around to my friends, I blink and clue in that maybe, just maybe, actually trying wasn’t the greatest idea. Deciding to just run with the excuse she practically gave me, “well I needed something to do and take my anger out on after that dog shit”. Sam rolls her eyes at me, “yeah sure that’s totally the reason”, I can practically feel the sarcasm in her voice. Whelp, too late to change my story now.

“Heh, if you want we can have a one on one match. See who’s truly better, being the two higher scores”, I can’t help but smirk at Danny’s cocky challenge. I’m not too surprised he did the best of my friends, no way his parents haven’t forced target practice on him; what with their undying love for ghost hunting.

Tucker wheezes hard as he catches up to the three of us, “well it better stay one on one, cause I’m fucking out”. As if to prove his point, he animatedly flops on the ground, while we all snicker at him. “Tuck, you really are awfully out of shape”, Tucker only shrugs at Sam’s dig before turning to me, “seriously though, your aim is something else and you dodge damn good too. Unlike a certain someone”.

“Hey, you don’t need to dodge if you bury your opponent before they can shoot or shoot much anyway”, honestly Danny? What kind of strategy is that? No wonder I got you so damn much.

“That doesn’t work in laser tag Danny”, Sam rolls her eyes at him but he just sticks his tongue out her. “Well maybe we should have a paintball match then”, Tucker immediately starts waving his hands back and forth while shaking his head. “Hell no dude, you don’t even flinch from being hit. That shit ain’t fair”

Danny’s now sticking his tongue out at Tucker and man it’s obvious they’ve known each other forever. Kind of weird butting into a well-established group of friends but to hell with it, they’re lucky to have me. Even if I’m busy most of the time.

“So why are you actually good at this? Because you just taking the excuse I gave you pretty much proves it’s something sketchy or some shit”, Sam leans into me and smiles wickedly, “so spill”. Oh well, fuck that was really damn sneaky of her, impressive though. Now, what the hell am I supposed to say? “Fine, not much else to do other than paper toss and bouncing little kid balls off the walls. Happy?”, please just accept the excuse, would you?

Sam lounges against the wall, inspecting her nails as she talks, “ah the old, give ‘em an embarrassing excuse so they’ll assume you’re telling the truth because why would you make up something embarrassing? Care to try again?”, what? Wow ok, I guess I shouldn’t be shocked, pretty sure Sam sneaks around near constantly.

“Well maybe I like to have some secrets ok?”, I’ve really got nothing else to offer. And I’m almost annoyed that Danny laughs, he’s the most damn secretive person I’ve ever met!

“You could have pulled at least three more different excuses there. Heck, I can think of four off the top of my head”, I glare at Danny, because really? You’re laughing at me because I didn’t lie more? Seriously? “I’m not super big on lying Danny. Unlike you, I’m not a walking secret”. Apparently, my more or less good-natured insult, needed to be more insulting because he’s just laughing harder now. I opt to just glare at him.

Tucker pats me on the shoulder, “you should know by now that Danny takes near nothing seriously and is basically insult immune. We just rag him cause it’s fun”. I watch as Danny finger-guns at Tucker and blows imaginary smoke off his fingertip.

Danny, turning to me, “even if I’m Mr. Secretive, the weirdo trio are probably the three people you could trust most with any secret really. Even if we told, no one would believe our shit”.

Sam nods, “that may be partly because off all the crazy shit we tell teachers. I mean come on Danny, you could have just said you cut your hair up in a dare but no, instead you tell him that toothpaste ate it”. Um, what? Turning to Danny, “I mean I guess points for creativity but really? Why would anyone believe that”.

Danny snickers, “and the great thing? I wasn’t even lying. My parents make some weird shit”. Oh, you have got to be kidding me? He’s actually serious, and I thought my injuries and what not were hard to explain. Maybe they do have a bit of a point but I’m still not going to spout my shit just cause they want me too. Danny sticks his finger in the air, “however I was lying when I blamed my colour changing shirt on my dad’s latest invention”. Now I’m just confused though Sam and Tucker both look slightly angry with him. Oh, he lied to them, wow. Ok, I guess I can’t really talk but he’s super close to them, “did you really just admit you lied to them? Just like that? No prompting, nothing? That’s pretty gutsy”

“Danny knows no fear. That and he rarely cares about anything”

“Hey now, I care about you guys you ass”, Danny tilts his head to me, “it doesn’t matter if they know now since the times past. And frankly, they probably knew I was lying but just accepted it because that’s how it works with me. If I’m lying to them then they know it’s something they don’t want me to tell the truth about”. That is really messed up and makes me feel like way less of a dick for lying myself. “Well, what about my shit? So that accepting a lie only applies to you”.

Tucker rolls his eyes at me, “we always eventually get the truth from him so it’s different. That or we actually know what he’s lying about as he’s lying” Um what, “doesn’t that defeat the purpose of lying?”.

Danny shakes his head, “naw, that’s just me lying to make them feel better and so they know not to worry”. Man, even when he’s lying his being all self-sacrificial about it. “You really are too good of a guy Danny”.

Danny rubs his neck bashfully as the other two round on me again, “so obviously we’re trustworthy and skilled at secret keeping. So really, spill it”. Something tells me I’m really not going to be able to get out of this. But seriously my hunter shit is a secret for a reason, the last thing I want is them getting caught up in this crap. Sure I wouldn’t trade it for the world now, but I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I mean hell, Danny would get involved in a heartbeat to protect his friends, and that includes me, fearful of ghost or not.

But also, we’re all adults now. My friends aren’t some dumb kids getting in over their heads like I was. Hell, just being my friend gets them involved in a way. “Why do you even want to know so bad?”

“Because Sam’s nosey?”

Sam glares at Tucker before looking to me, “because we’re supposed to be friends”. Ok ouch, that was just kind of mean but I do get it a little.

“Because the two of them are heading off to college and want you to finally admit it before they fuck off. Not that I really approve of them borderline forcing whatever it is out of you”, I blink at Danny a bit because damn that’s a hell of a point. And I guess of all people, it would be the embodiment of secrets that doesn’t support forcing others secrets into the light.

Sam rolls her eyes at Danny, “we really shouldn’t have to force anything Danny. We’re friends and even if things were pretty rocky in the beginning, she’s nearly a part of the weirdo gang”.

Danny snickers, “well Tuck’s still the weirdest one”. Uh, you sure about that? Tucker seems pretty normal compared to all of your weird goings-on. Danny can clearly see I’m judging him, “hey now, I’m weird by default. Those two are weird by choice. Tuck’s just extra weird, aren’t you Mr. Meat sense”.

What? Ok there’s a story there. Danny turns his head back to me after sneering at Tucker, “we’ve all got our weird and weird is far more tolerant of weird”.

Sam nods and shrugs a bit, “I don’t think any of us could actually be friends with someone totally not weird”. Honestly, she’s pretty darn right and even I’ll admit, hanging out with average Joe’s is actually really awkward. Even with the questioning, this isn’t really awkward, and I’m starting to feel like a bit of an ass. Crap, something tells me that if I don’t own up, I’ll probably wreck any genuine friendship I’ve got going on here. “You guys aren’t going to trust me very much if I don’t tell you, are you?”, judging by Sam’s smirk, I’m completely right. 

You know what? The hell with it. I know what it’s like to have fake friends and this ain’t it; this hunter shit has already cost me a lot. I deserve genuine friends and I guess that means not being a closed off wall. Heck, Danny is a closed off wall and he obviously tells them his shit. Tells them, not me. “How about this, give a secret get a secret”, I nod at Danny to make my intentions clear. Even if he’s not the one being pushy, he’s also clearly not opposed either. Sam and Tucker both eye Danny, well at least they’re leaving it up to him, while Danny shrugs, “well duh, knowing my shit is the initiation. Can’t be one of the weirdos without it, though Jazz is only an honorary member”. Oh, OH. Ok, there’s more going on here I think, “well fine then, you sure have a weird way of establishing a true friendship though. Which I guess is a bit expected”.

Crossing my arms at them a bit, fully expecting a bit of a freakout. “I hunt ghosts alright. The red-suited one with a board. Don’t go getting invol-”, I cut myself off as I notice none of them look even slightly surprised. If anything, they’re all smirking. Squinting at them, “you already knew you asses! Didn’t you?”. Both Danny and Tucker laugh lightheartedly while Sam actually responds, “well finally and yeah. I recognised your voice on the very first day, V”. 

WHAT!? I know my mouth is gaping open so I snap it shut before opening it again to speak, “THE WHOLE TIME!?”. How the hell haven’t they called me out before? What? Tucker’s basically wheezing and sits on the ground, Danny gives me a goofy thumbs up, “yup, It’s pretty damn hard for anyone to actually keep secrets from the three of us”. Tucker laughs even harder, “dude! That makes us sound like some creepy all seeing eye”. Danny looks to Tucker judgingly, “Tuck pal, you literally hacked the navy while eating grapes this morning”. Um what?

Danny snickers at my confusion, “Tuck’s a bit of a menace”. Sam rolls her eyes at him, “last I checked, you’re the only one who’s officially called a menace, Danny. Well, at least until Tuck gets himself on a watch list”. Danny puts his hands on his hips mockingly, “hey now, the government only tries to murder me on occasion and they really suck at it”. Um what? I don’t know if he’s kidding or not. He better be because that’s, that’s just absurd.

Danny smirks at me, which I guess means my confusion is damn obvious again, “Val. My very existence is illegal in the eyes of the gov. I don’t have secrets, I am the secret”. Sam snickers, “yeah, the biggest damn one in the fucking country”. Tucker laughs, “More like the world!”.

Watching Danny blush I realise they’re being serious here, what the hell?

“See Val. This shit is why there are not really secrets in with the weirdos. There’s no damn point. Hell, for all accounts and purposes being a damn good hunter, which you are, loses its weight around what’s effectively a bunch of royalty”. What? Are they just going out of their way to confuse me now? To get back at me for lying for years, when they already damn knew?

Gaping at Danny, “what is even going on here? I mean if your goal was to confuse the hell out of me and thus distract me from the whole, you guys knew the entire time but never damn called me out, then congrats on a job well done. The hell?”.

Danny actually looks like he feels a bit bad, “our lives are a mess and weird is our norm. And Val, don’t worry about us getting involved in your ghost shit. We’re more involved than you are and for longer”, what? Well, I guess for Danny that makes some sense. Ghost hunters for family and all but still, what? Danny chuckles and continues, “you’re talking with the only humans who are actually regarded highly by ghosts. In their eyes, we’re princess,  pharaoh, and king. Bunch of ghost royalty, and yes there are long stories behind all of that”. WHAT? That doesn’t even make sense? What? I probably look like my brain is melting or something. Which it kind of is, none of this makes sense.

Sam rolls her eyes at Danny, “I think you best just let her in before she has an aneurysm or something”. Part of me says it’s way too late but yeah, explain away.

Danny shrugs animatedly, “not really sure how that will actually help, finding out your friend is practically his own unique species is more of a sure fire way to achieve brain melt”.

“Ok? Just spit it out you ass”, both Sam and Tucker glare at me for that, which I guess fine. I beat around the bush and tried to wiggle my way out of this so fairs fair I guess. But I’m not even sure what Danny’s saying at this point, this is a mental cluster fuck of dog shit proportions.

Danny laughs, “blunt corpse spilling it is”. Danny stares straight at me, which is a little unnerving, “I’m Phantom. The world’s one true halfa”.

“WHAT? I mean what?! I, you ass! You let me hunt you and then befriended me? The fuck a wrong with you?! You insane idiot!”, I can’t really help but smile though. Even if my friend is clearly a loon but hey, I’ve got a nanobot suit in my veins; that’s pretty loony too. And-HOLY SHIT! OK! I officially don’t think anything will ever shock me again after just watching Danny freaking transform into Phantom.

Danny god damn Phantom laughs as he claps his hand on my shocked shoulder, “welcome to the weirdo gang aka Team Phantom, we’re all fucked”.

End.

[rosebennett28]

Can´t catch a break - Part 1

Pairings: Bucky x OFC Josephine Buchater

Summary: When Bucky moves into the Avengers Tower he isn't met with the most warm welcome as Josephine is unexpectedly hostile towards him.

A/N: This is the first part of a short series. I just wanted to write something where Bucky and the reader aren't crazy about each other right from the start.

Steve patted his friends' shoulder as soon as the elevator doors closed in a desperate attempt to reassure him. He sensed his discomfort and couldn't blame him. After all, the Avengers tower was property of Tony Stark. The Tony Stark whose parents the Winter Soldier had killed in cold blood. Steve kept telling Bucky that what had happened while he was under Hydras control wasn't his fault, but Bucky still felt remorseful for all of his actions and a deep sense of guilt followed him every step he took.

"It's gonna be just fine, you'll see.", Steve said noticing how Bucky kept pushing his hair back - a nervous tick that apparently lived on after all this time. A smile made its way on Steves face at the thought of that, the thought that somewhere deep down inside it was still his best friend.

Bucky looked at him, brows furrowed in worry and offered him a tight-lipped smile. It was forced, no question, but Bucky tried his best not to look too stoic all the time. He didn't want to seem unapproachable and he was genuinely greatful for the opportunity to not only live in the compound with his best friend, well his only friend now that he thought about it, but also be treated there. Tony and Steve had come to terms with the past and the team had agreed that Bucky should be allowed to join the team as soon as he was treated and steady enough to join them on missions.

Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly cut off by the elevator announcing its arrival. After a deep breath and a last time of Bucky pushing his hair back both men exited through the open doors and stepped into the hallway.

Rounding a corner Bucky realized that Steve was leading him to the living quarters where most of the team was situated. He shot Steve a glaring look, he didn't mention he'd have to see all of them right away, at one go. He thought Steve would show him his room and it would all come together somehow. He wasn't ready for this but there was no way he could back out now.

The team was scattered around the vast living room, casually talking to each other. As Bucky put on his best fake smile, Tony turned around as if he sensed them coming.

"Look who finally decided to show up, it's Captain America and his stray.", Tony blasted, earning a poke to the side by Wanda. The whole team was facing him now, the conversions having stopped by Tonys intentionally loud comment.

"Oh come on... Welcome to my humble abode, Frosty.", he added. Another poke by Wanda immediately followed.

"Hey, I was about to say, your welcome to join us for dinner... I hope you remember how to use cutlery.", Tony chuckled and he was sure everyone rolled their eyes at him but since it was Tony he really couldn't care less.

They all left to the dining room, where Sam was finishing up. He had layed the table and was spreading a few more glasses when he saw the team coming in.

"You can sit down guys, I'll be a minute.", Sam happily announced and disappeared into the kitchen.

Bucky took a seat next to Steve his back facing the door and felt so out of place he wouldn't have stayed if it wasn't for his best friend. In the meantime Sam returned with a big bowl of spaghetti.

"Wow Falcon, if you would have told me there would be spaghetti I would have worn my good suit.", Tony jokingly complained.

"Don't be such a conceited prick Tony, I told you it was my specialty what did you expect?", Sam retaliated nonchalantly.

"See, it's nothing personal they pick on each other all the time.", Steve quitely told Bucky. It seemed to relieve him a little to see that he wasn't the only one that was being teased.

The whole team had been eating and laughing the whole time, with the exception of Bucky who had tried to get as little attention as possible.

Bucky snapped out of his haze when Natasha suddenly spoke up; "Josephine, you're back already? I thought the mission was estimated to take a month at least."

"Yes, and I am profoundly offended by the person who made that estimation and you already gave up my seat, wow thanks for replacing me so quickly.", Josephine teasingly retorted.

"I told you, I invited Bucky remember?", Steve stated. After that Bucky decided to turn around to see who Joesephine was, as nobody had mentioned her earlier.

When he looked at her, she gave Bucky such a hostile look that the room filled with a tension that could almost be grasped.

"Josie calm down, I think you're just hungry.", Wanda intervened trying to ease the situation but she just kept on staring at the man with narrow eyes.

"You bastard. You don't even remember me, do you?", she blankly said.

"You guys know each other?", Steve looked at his best friend and then at Josephine.

"Well apparently, your best friend here has killed so many people he doesn't even remember his victims anymore.", she spat at Bucky still giving him a deathly glare.

The whole room went quiet and not even Tony dared to comment on it, so she just kept going.

"You can't be that fucking stupid, Steve. Do I have to tell you that you do not bring the enemy to your own home? To our home? The audacity, to come here, to Tonys house."

"Joe, Bucky isn't a threat. He is in recovery and we have discussed thouroughly with Tony that he will be part of our team as soon as he is ready.", Steve calmly explained to her.

"Bucky? It's Bucky now? Interesting, because the last time I checked he was Hydra. The enemy, Steve. How can you trust him? How do you know he won't sell us out the second he get's the chance to? I cant believe you. You can all pretend like this is okay but I'm not partaking in this sick play.", she retaliated, her hands trembling out of pure anger.

The team was silent and Josephine took a moment to gather herself. Now more somber than anything she closed off by saying; "I am disappointed in all of you. If you want him on your team that's fine, but I'm out of here"

With that she turned around and left. After a moment of comprehending the situation Steve told Bucky to stay put and went after her himself.

When he arrived at her door she was already packed and ready to go, running into him.

"Joe wait, we can sort this out, just stay.", Steve said in a desperate attempt to stop her.

"Get the fuck out of my way Steve.", she almost screamed at him.

"Josephine, you're one of us, you can't just abandon us.", he insisted.

"I can, if you let him stay. This just goes to show that I can't even trust you Steve. You can't trust anyone.", the last part she added bitterly.

"You know you can trust me. We need you. You just came back, just relax before you make any rash decisions.", Steve reassured her.

After a moment she took a deep breath and exhaled sharply. Shaking her head she let her bag drop to the ground.

"Fine but if he kills you in your sleep don't say I didn't warn you.". With that she shut the door in his face and Steve knew this wouldn't be over soon.

He went back to the team that was partly sitting at the table and partly cleaning up the table. Bucky was nowhere to be seen. As he asked Natasha where he was she answered that Bruce had shown him his room.

Steve overheard Tonys discussion with Sam and Clint.

"I didn't know she knew him, did you? I mean shit, she never really told us anything about herself but don't you think that's something you'd mention?", Tony stated still appalled.

"Yeah, I mean it sounded pretty heavy", Sam added.

He had never thought this would happen. He thought if anything, Tony would change his mind. But this? This made him feel terrible. He didn't even know if he should check up on Bucky or if he should leave him some space.

Finally Steve decided he should talk to his friend, but was approached by Bruce on the way.

"I don't know Steve I think he just needs some time. I already told him that she didn't mean it and she was just upset. I told him where he could find you.", Bruce informed Steve.

After the disaster this evening was the team decided to turn in. Steve stayed up just in case Bucky needed to talk to him. But unbeknownst to Steve, he had taken a shower and tried to sleep, but couldn't stop thinking about Josephines words. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for the life of him. Since Bucky had already looked around his room countless times trying to get used to it he left his room for the first time at about 2 a.m. He went into the kitchen and was filling a glass of water in the sink when he heard footsteps approaching and turned around.

"Well, this is just fucking perfect.", Josephine exclaimed. She was still wearing the clothes he had seen her in earlier, her hair was dishevelled as she had presumably just woken up.

"I'm sorry I'll just get out of your way.", Bucky said leaving his glass behind.

"No, you don't get to be sorry. I hope you know you are only tolerated here. If it wasn't for Steve I would have already kicked your ass back to wherever you crawled out of."; she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

Bucky hadn't even been looking into her eyes. He didn't even know what he could possibly say to calm her down.

"I know I deserve that you hate me, but I just want to make it right. I want to help the team.", Bucky quietly said hoping he wouldn't further upset her.

"Let's say we can trust you and you're not going to turn us in; I won't  tiptoe around you like the others. I will not give you a speck of pity. You don't get to mope about your traumatic past or whatever because god knows we have all been through hell and back. Wanda has just lost her brother, Steve has lost Peggy, his best friend and lives in a world that he still doesn't fully understand. You ruined my life and don't forget you are the reason Tony has lost his parents.  If we would all sit in the corner and cry about it, nothing would get done, now would it?", Josephine explained to him harshly.

Bucky nodded. She was right after all. He started to walk past her slowly when she spoke up again.

"Soldat. If you do turn out to be a traitor, I will put a bullet in your ugly face myself. Now get the hell out of my sight."

[whatib]

I believe in Freedom of Speech

What I find most disturbing is that the employees that are banning people and companies are immature individuals(some are clearly in a bad place mentally) filled with hate against the world(for a million different reasons) and a lack of respect for others, and they're very short on a sense of humor.....they've made it clear they want to hurt others in order to get their "pay back" against society....I had some kid shut down my Youtube channel that had 317 videos on it just because I made one comment about the vaccine not working against Omicron. I wasn't preaching anything or telling anyone not to get the vaccine. I merely said that "I now know 19 fully vaccinated and boosted people that caught Omicron. I guess the vaccine doesn't stop Omicron" and boom the next day a decade of videos was taken down. I appealed and thank the Universe my channel was restored but then I had to comb thru all of my vides to see if I mentioned anything about Covid and just remove them from youtube. We ARE living in China, the Germany from WWII, and North Korea....and it's friggen scary as hell. This is why our forefathers founded this great country upon one concept...Freedom of Speech...because without it, you are in a stranglehold by your government with no recourse, and you will be sent to the Stalag when the hand comes down. We're giving the Power of the Hand to mere kids that don't have 40 or 60 years of experience on Earth which grants them the skill to understand other opinions and make good judgements with respect to the Holy Grail of Life...Freedom of Speech I've never voted in 57 years and never will, but I did support Democrats for basically 50 years until they burned my country down between 2016 and 2020. I will never trust a Democrat again for the rest of my life. These people are a cancer to society. They definitely have a warped view of the world when they condone and fully support saying things like F*** Trump but they freak out if someone says F**** Joe Biden. This one simple example shows me that there's a large group of people that don't understand the concept of "Fair Play" and without that you have a lopsided world that will be embattled in a struggle forever. Tolerance is the only way the world was able to get to where it is today, and the only way it will survive. I had to tolerate my mother calling me an idiot for 57 years in order for me to be the success I am today. Her hate for me made me not want to be her, and it made me the good person I am today, helping the poor, helping individuals with special needs, being a Special Olympics coach, developing software for people who lack computer skills, teaching computer skills to the elderly, giving jobs to people from other countries. Do I care if I hire a Muslim? or a Christian? or an Aheist? No, I understand that the world is full of billions of people with different beliefs, it's not my place to send them to the Stalag, or shut them out of the world. Everyone deserves a place in society, and they all deserve Love. Even if they hate President Trump or Brandon. (Brandon is still in office and he deserves all of the same teasing that all of his predecessors received until he leaves office....so don't cry, it's no big deal...it actually means nothing at all...once you can wrap your head around that, you'll finally move forward in life and you'll enjoy staring at the Moon and feeding the birds and the squirrels, and you'll finally be one with the Universe)

[sunshinedjh]

Summoning Love Part Seventeen: Caught

Summoning Love: Phil Lester has the ability to make anything he desires appear at will. However, with great power comes great responsibility. And along with his parents wanting to disown him, his entire school thinking he’s a freak, and being the only person in this world he knows of with a hidden power, things can get rather lonely…   Phan |Superpowers |High School Au |

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Part Sixteen

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Word Count: 1175

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Wattpad<<<

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Warnings: homophobia :(

'Daaaan?' Phil called from the bottom of the stairs. 'Yeah?' 'Are you ready yet?' Dan poked his head out from behind the banister. 'No, clearly I am not'

'Well hurry up then!' 'Okay okay, I'm hurrying'

-

After Dan had finally finished getting ready, they'd began walking to school. It was a nice day, sunny with blue skies. The conversations Dan and Phil were having were also pleasant, but neither of them could say that they were particularly ecstatic to be going to the place they were heading.

'But what if someone finds out about us?' Phil was asking worriedly. 'It's fine, no one's gonna know' 'Yeah well even if no one does we still have double maths, todays gonna suck no matter what'

'At least we don't have dodgeball again' Dan muttered, remembering the incidents of the last time.

It seemed as though Phil had remembered too, as he started laughing. 'Not so good at dodging balls are you?' 'Shut up'

The two of them arrived at the school gates a few minutes before the bell was due to go. 'I'm not with you in either of the first two lessons' Dan said sadly, looking Phil in the eyes as they came to a halt in the corridor.

Phil had an urge to grab hold of Dan's hands but he resisted. 'I guess I'll see you at break'

At that, the bell decided to ring.

Dan gave Phil a look up and down. 'I guess you will' 'Bye Dan!' Phil called out as Dan turned to walk away. It felt oddly insincere to leave without a hug or a kiss but it wasn't like they could get away with doing either of those things here.

-

The first two lessons were grim. Phil had happened to have English and then history.

His English teacher had informed him that while he'd been away, he had missed an exam on analysing poetry. So for the first hour of the morning, he'd been reluctantly shoved in a tiny exam room and made to write an essay.

The second hour of that morning consisted of Mr Harbour, Phil's history teacher, telling the class about the tragedies of World War Two.

Phil hated history, all these dates and statistics just going into his brain and flooding right back out again. Who even needed to know about the past? And the fact that it was about the war was just depressing.

He was nearly falling asleep. In fact he probably would have if he hadn't have felt a harsh smack on the head from Joe King, who happened to sit behind him, hitting him on the head with a book. Of course the teacher hadn't noticed.

'Oi' he'd whispered 'where you been? Me, Kyle and Scott missed you' 'Sure you did' Phil muttered through clenched teeth, as he rubbed his had where the book had hit.

'Lester!' Mr Harbour yelled 'Are you kidding' Philmumbled. He looked behind him to see Joe looking completely innocent and working, as though he hadn't been talking. That little shit.

'I will not tolerate my lessons being interrupted, understand?' Phil looked over at the door. He swore he just saw...

'Lester!' Mr Harbour raised his voice 'Are you even listening to me?' Phil turned his head back to face his teacher. 'Um, no... not really sir' The class around him burst out laughing.

'Right that's it, outside. I'm removing you from this lesson' 'Okay sir' Phil replied, getting up. His attention was still focused on what he'd saw outside. He grabbed his stuff as fast as he could and exited the class.

He'd been right. Dan was there, hiding behind the classroom door. 'What on earth are you doing?' Phil asked in surprise. 'I could ask you the same Phil Lester. Getting kicked out of class? My my my...'

'I got kicked out so I could come and see you, but how'd you get out so easily?' 'I asked if I could use the bathroom. And that was what I fully intended on doing... after I'd taken a quick stop on route to visit you'

Phil rolled his eyes. 'Okay well at least take me with you, before some teacher comes and asks me why I'm out here' 'Sounds like a plan'

'You know I have had the worst morning' Phil began as they started walking. 'Did you have to do that English essay too?' 'Yeah, riveting wasn't it?'

The two of them stepped inside the bathroom once they'd reached it. Dan leaned against one of the sinks and yawned. 'Don't you have to pee?' Phil asked. 'You know what, I don't think I do' Dan grinned devilishly, looking over at Phil.

'If we get caught skiving I'm blaming you' 'Well that's not nice now is it, I'm pretty sure you're the one that got yourself out of that classroom' 'Bastard' 'Nerd'

Dan walked over to Phil and looked fondly at him. He wasn't wearing his glasses today and so Dan could see his eyes much clearer.

'How long until break?' 'I'm not sure' 'Better hope it's a while' 'Wh...'

Dan leaned in closer to Phil and connected their lips. Phil made a noise in surprise, and grabbed hold of Dan's curls to steady himself. Dans lips were warm and tasted of... was that lip gloss?

Phil ran his tongue along Dan's bottom lip, he couldn't help it, it tasted nice. Dan was starting to let out little gasps that were almost moans as the kiss got faster. Phil knew they were supposed to be staying quiet but he didn't have it in him to ask Dan to be quiet.

Perhaps he should have done though. As if they had both been quiet they might have heard the sound of the bell ringing, or heard the three people who had just entered the room.

'Howell? And Lester?!' A voice from the other side of the bathroom yelled. Thankfully Dan and Phil did hear this and so they rapidly let go of each other.

'Damn I knew you two were weird but I didn't think you were gay' 'And for each other too, gross' 'Get the fuck out of here!' Phil shouted. 'Sorry, are we interrupting?'

'It's fine we'll go, we've got some news to spread now' 'Don't you dare tell anyone!' Dan stepped forward and tried to walk up to them but Phil stopped him.

'What do you think we're gonna do, not tell everyone that you guys are fags? How boring' 'You guys ought to consider yourselves lucky, that we aren't about to beat the shit out of you'

'Too right' 'Anyways catch you later losers' And with that the three of them left the bathroom.

'Fuck...' Phil whispered 'Oh this is bad, this is really bad. What are we gonna do?' 'Phil I...' 'I'm not staying here for the rest of the day' 'Phil, listen, we get bullied enough as it is. I really don't think this is going to make much of a difference'

Dan knew that wasn't exactly true, he was just trying to stay strong. As he looked over at Phil, it almost looked as though there were tears forming in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Dan leaned back into Phil. Not to kiss him but to hug him tight.

'We got this okay?'

Next Chapter

[dawnaress]

Why TV judge Jerry Springer supports court-packing: 'It's important to have a Supreme Court that recognizes America's values'

With Senate Republicans likely to confirm Judge Amy Coney Barrett as Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s replacement on the Supreme Court this week, Democratic presidential nominee Joe Biden will face renewed pressure to expand the court’s ranks should he defeat President Donald Trump on Nov. 3. Court expansion — or, as some call it, court-packing — is a controversial topic that the vice president has so far avoided discussing in-depth, to the frustration of some of his supporters.

But if Biden decides to move ahead, he’ll have the support of at least one famous judge: Jerry Springer. “I originally didn’t think it was a good idea,” the talk show host-turned-presiding justice of NBC’s syndicated courtroom series, Judge Jerry, tells Yahoo Entertainment. “But now I’m OK with extending the Supreme Court if that’s what it takes to guarantee the ideal America.”

For Springer, the argument in favor of expanding is a clear-cut case of balancing more the conservative values Barrett is expected to favor in cases involving abortion and voting versus the more progressive values favored by majorities of the country in national polls. “On the one hand, you have the value of having nine justices for so much of our history,” Springer explains. “But I balance that against the value of, for the next two generations, women aren’t going to have control over their own bodies and we’re not going to enforce the right of everyone to vote. When I balance those values against the value of saying, ‘At least we kept it at nine,’ it’s not a balance of moral equivalency. It’s important to have a Supreme Court that recognizes America’s values of saying all people are created equal.”

Like the rest of the country, Springer — who was a politician and journalist before getting into daytime television in the 1990s with The Jerry Springer Show — closely followed Barrett’s confirmation hearings and took issues with several of her comments, including her description of herself as an “originalist” when it comes to interpretations of the Constitution. “That theory makes absolutely no sense, and I’ll tell you why: the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia was a political process, and everyone had different intentions and different ideas. It was weeks and weeks of bargaining and negotiating, so if you want to decipher the original intent, you’re not being intellectually honest, because there was no single idea. They all compromised! Maybe you can figure out one person’s intention, but there is no way you can figure out the collective invention.”

“Also,” Springer continues, “Are you going to rely on the intentions of people from 240 years ago who thought that Black people were three-fifths of a human being and that women should not have the right to vote? It’s just nonsense; these are people who are otherwise very smart using a big word to rationalize their negative point of view that hurts at least half the country. We can give it all kinds of names and rationales, but at the end, we’re down to this: Is it more important to keep the Supreme Court at nine, or is it more important that all people in America have equal rights? That's the only issue at stake. Whichever side you come out on, OK, but at least be honest to the decision that you're making.”

Clearly, Judge Jerry isn’t shy about adjudicating the current political situation in America. In a wide-ranging interview, he addresses why he voted for Biden, how the justice system is “set up to give white men the advantage,” and why the coronavirus will likely doom Trump’s chances of reelection.

Yahoo Entertainment: Because of coronavirus restrictions, you haven’t been able to have an audience for recent episodes. The audience reaction was always a big part of The Jerry Springer Show — is it odd not having people in the room now?

Jerry Springer: Well, the old show was obviously 100 percent dependent on a live audience, but in a courtroom, the audience has no purpose except to be background. Otherwise, they’re not involved and have to keep quiet. So it doesn’t really affect the decisions I make or the law I have to abide by, but it does change the atmosphere. What you’ll see in some episodes is that the producers have given me a laugh button, so whenever I make a quip or something like that, I push the button and you hear laughter in this empty courtroom.

Is it different for you to be put in the position of judging the people you’re talking to? As a talk show host, you mostly remained an impartial observer helping along the conversation.

The truth is that, in my life, I’m not very judgmental, and that’s due to my liberalism. I believe that people are entitled to live the lives they want as long as they don't hurt anyone else. I don’t cast judgment, because I don’t walk in their shoes. But you’re right: now I have that responsibility. I guess I treat it as if I’m their father or grandfather, and they need to be disciplined. I don’t [judge] out of meanness. I try to be understanding, and explain to them why I’m reaching the decision, and that it’s not a reflection on them or that they’re a bad person. In so many of the cases, the only entities that know the truth are the actual parties and God. Everyone else is just listening to what they’re saying and trying to make a fair judgment.

Do you ever get the sense that any of them are playing to the cameras?

When these suits are filed, no one has any idea that one day they’re going to be on television. Every morning, we have producers that look at every case that has been filed in the United States of America the day before, and if it seems like an interesting case, the plaintiff and defendant get a call going, “Would you like to have your case adjudicated by Jerry Springer on national television?” I am fully aware that if someone didn’t like me going in, why would they ever agree to have me be their judge? So obviously, the people that are coming before us are people that start out with a pretty good feeling about me. They think, “Hey, this is cool. Let's have Jerry do it.” So in the very beginning, you can almost sense their nervousness of being in front of a guy they’ve watched on television for thirty years. That creates a different dynamic, and I’m conscious of that. So in the beginning, I let them state their case and get comfortable with me. Often they’ll just call me, “Jerry” and the producers will have to tell them, “For decorum, call him Judge Jerry.”

Based on the cases that you’re hearing, what’s your sense of what life for ordinary Americans is like right now?

Generally, the things that people are most angry or upset about are the things that happen in their everyday lives. Stuff like, “Why won't the neighbors cut that tree down?” Or, “That person insulted me.” That stuff tends to make you more angry than reading about legislation that Congress may have passed that has more worldly impact. Most often people are — for better or worse — most concerned with the things that immediately touch their family. So you can’t really judge a nation on what makes them angry in the moment.

But you can judge a nation based on what policies they tolerate, and that’s why this election is, in a sense, more about the voters and what we tolerate in our country from our government. I think people are going to the polls to say, “Does Trump really represent our country and our values?” And so, on election night, the whole world will be watching to find out what America is really like and what we tolerate. Because if you tolerate someone who is in a position of power, then what does that say about you? Aren’t you basically just driving the getaway car for this person who assaults our values?

Are you supporting Joe Biden?

Yeah, I’ve already voted for him. I think this election has nothing to do with being a Democrat or a Republican, and the best evidence you have is that if you talk to a friend who says, “I’m voting for Trump,” there’s always an explanation. They always start the sentence by saying, “Well, I know what he's like,” or, “I don't approve of his values,” or, “I wish he wouldn't use that language.” There’s always a qualification, which should be a red flag. Character matters: in fact, I would argue that character is the single most important trait of any president because you can delegate everything else. What you can’t delegate is character. You can get the smartest people on the world to be on your staff, but if you have bad character as a president, you will get the smartest people to figure out ways to do bad things, and that’s exactly what we're witnessing now.

What we’re also seeing is that an incredible number of people that worked for him have been coming out with books, articles and political statements saying something bad about his character. So at some point, aren’t we all agreeing — even if we're lifelong Republicans — that this was not the right pick? Go back to being a Republican later, but at this point, be honest enough that America is better than this. Tom Brokaw would never write a book about this generation that would say, “This was America's greatest generation.”

As someone who defined reality television in the 1990s, do you recognize those tendencies in Trump?

Well, yeah. And you know what? I have nothing personally against Trump, I just don’t think he should be president. I was the host of the Miss Universe Pageant back in 2008 when he still owned it, and he was only nice to me. So this isn’t a personal vendetta. We ought to be able to separate that. Hopefully, we’ll stand up and say, “Enough of this. This is wrong and we know it’s wrong. Let’s move on.”

Character matters: in fact, I would argue that character is the single most important trait of any president Jerry Springer

We’re having a larger conversation right now about the racial inequities built into the American justice system. What’s your take on where we are in that regard?

I don’t think there’s any question that we live in a society where almost everything has been set up to give white men — particularly wealthy white men — the advantage. That's the whole system. I’ll give you an example: I graduated from Northwestern University’s law school in 1968. Mind you, this was a major university in Chicago. We had 190 students in my graduating class, and of those 190 students, two were women and one was Black. I mean, think about that! This wasn’t some rural community in the South someplace. And these are the lawyers that become our judges and politicians.

So how do we even pretend that race hasn’t been a factor here? So if I've got African-American parties before me on the show, and I’m sitting up there on the bench as this old, rich white guy, of course I'm conscious of that. That’s why I keep telling them: “I am no better than anybody here. Get it? And so here’s why I’m reaching this decision.” But that’s not something I do just because I became a judge. I think you grow up with those values. One thing my parents taught me, and which we teach our children and grandchildren, is that you never ever judge someone based on what they are. You only judge people based on what they do. If you can live your life like that, you will never be prejudiced.

Does it frustrate you to see cases like Breonna Taylor, where no police officers were charged with her death despite widespread protests?

Sure, you question that. The system is such that there are always particular details that we don’t know in terms of what happens before a grand jury. So the reason that decision is reached may have been built into the system, not because of anyone on the grand jury. But the rules are inevitably set up to protect a white society. I don’t care what laws you change now: it still hasn’t been an equal competition for several generations. You've been having this race in our country for 240 years where people have a cinder block around their foot as they're racing the white guy.

Then you say, “You know what? Take that cinder block off his legs. Now let's continue the race.” Well, the white guy is already halfway around the track! So when people say, “Look, we're not discriminating now,” maybe you’re not, but you're still living with the benefits of having had that discrimination for 200 years. That's what the institutional racism means. It means that you haven't leveled the playing field; you’ve decided to try to level it now, but you're not making up for what happened before. And that's what this moment is all about.

The worst kind of racism, sometimes, is the polite racism, not the wacko white supremacists. They’re evil, but they’re wackos and everyone sees that. It’s the polite racists that dress up, and then just justify policies that when they’re alone in the room with just God, they know are mean and not fair. Why do they support making it difficult for Black people or Hispanic people to vote? What possible justification do you have for doing it? Because you know that if you can stop Black people from voting, the Republican has a better chance of winning.

We live in a society where almost everything has been set up to give white men — particularly wealthy white men — the advantage. Jerry Springer

One interesting side effect of the Trump era seems to be that political sex scandals seem to be having less consequence now. As someone with a scandal in your own past, do you think that’s changed now?

When people voted for Trump, I think they made that clear. Society has changed altogether, especially with social media. Behavior hasn’t changed, but people's reaction to it has, just because we live in a different world. I remember when The Jerry Springer Show first aired, it was considered outrageous. Nowadays, it seems so ridiculously tame compared to what's on social media.

Have you adjudicated any cases where the pandemic is a factor? And are you seeing a frustration with quarantine restrictions?

Yeah, we’ve had some. We’ve dealt with cases of people being evicted from their homes because they couldn't pay rent, which may violate a local ordinance or a state law. When you watch the show, you won’t be able to tell that I'm in the courtroom in Connecticut, but the plaintiff and defendant are elsewhere in the country. Because of the magic of television, it looks like they’re standing in the courtroom with me. Of course, people are getting upset with this whole [quarantine] situation, but what we have trouble understanding is this is the United States of America and we have the worst performance in terms of getting a grip on this virus than virtually any country in the world. I mean, how did that happen? How could we be the one country in the world that couldn’t make enough masks, and that couldn’t get enough ventilators?

I mean, look at what FDR did to mobilize America when we were attacked at Pearl Harbor in 1941! Every factory was turned into making the planes and the tanks we needed, and we won the war. This administration couldn’t even mobilize to have masks made. And frankly, if Biden wins, it won't be due to any of these social issues. Trump will lose because of his being unable to deal with the pandemic: that’s what is doing him in. It’d be nice to say it happened because people had a social conscience, but I think it’s more likely to be because of his failure to handle the pandemic.