#the glasgow effect

[nerdie-faerie]

The 'I'll do it myself' mentality is incurable

[grimini]

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Good Omens graphic novel update: June 2024

Welcome to the June update. A lot of behind the scenes work at the moment but we're grabbing the travel sweets, popping in the Bentley and hitting the road. More on that below.

Admin

Ongoing reminder that the project FAQ can be found here. 

I pledged using my Apple ID, or no longer use the address my pledge is attached to, or I cannot work out what email address my pledge is connected to. What should I do? Please contact us via your Kickstarter account where the pledge is connected; we will be able to see on our system which address it is. If it's one you have access to, great! The FAQ has information on how to resend your invite link to access the PledgeManager. If it's one you are not able to access, then you can let us know which email is preferred and we can update this on the system, which will automatically send a new invite.

Events

We've had a lot of queries about when the Good Omens team will be attending events more formally, after some Aziraphale and Crowley spotting at conventions we'd been to previously. Well, we're excited to confirm the first: Good Omens HQ will be at ACME Comic Con in Glasgow, Scotland this September.

We'll be bringing the actual-real-life-home-to-Crowley-and-his-plants Bentley from Season 2 of Good Omens, the first time the car has been made available publicly for fans to come see and get photos with, ahead of its journey back to the set and the start of Season 3 filming.

We also see Quelin Sepulveda, aka Muriel, has been announced for the event for some additional ineffable joy.

You can get your tickets for ACME Comic Con here. We hope to see some of you there.

While we won't be rocking up with the Bentley to this next one, we want to let you know about Ineffable Con which, though sold out in person, is also taking place virtually in July. The fan-run event hosts great panels, auctions and more, with money raised going to Alzheimer’s Research UK, in memory of Sir Terry Pratchett.

Where next? We have - not an exaggeration - a list of about 200 events somewhere from when we asked fans this on Instagram and while we can't promise quite that amount of convention attendance, we're certainly looking to do some more things in future with Good Omens at large. Watch this space.  

Good Omens items...

This month has largely seen prototypes and samples for the wider Good Omens merch store arriving, and while we can't share those yet, we are certainly excited to see more fan product suggestions coming to life. That does, however, leave our public item updates a little slim on the ground.

To make up for that, here's some new panels from Colleen:

Also known as, "What could possibly go wrong?" And:

Also known as, "Well why don't you ▇▇▇ ▇▇▇▇▇▇ ▇▇▇ ▇▇!@#▇" or words to that effect, we'd imagine.  

Update from Colleen

Following such a positive response to Colleen's piece last month, bringing you behind the scenes into making the Good Omens graphic novel, we are delighted to say that she has agreed to write something for our updates going forward! For June, she's going more in depth into the process of flatting and the technicalities of colouring on screen vs print. Over to you, Colleen.

---

I mentioned the other month that I use a flatter to help me with technical work on GOOD OMENS, and here is a great example.

This is my original, hand drawn line art.

And this is the flatting file which was created using the MultiFill computer program.

It will put your eyes out.

The raw image above demonstrates how the color art lines up solidly under the line art. If it doesn't do that, you get a weird phenomenon in print called ghosting, a tiny little line of white around each segment of color. I had this issue on one major project and ended up redoing every single color file after I got a look at the first printing. Nearly two weeks of work.

The same image with the line art on top.

The layer order looks like this.

Background copy is the clean, line art layer.

I scan the art at 600 dpi, then make the blacks pure black, the whites pure white. Then I convert back to greyscale, then RGB, then duplicate the layer. Then I delete the white on the upper layer so the line art layer is transparent but the blacks on that layer are not.

If you have blacks on a layer that has been multiplied, you can see slight color through those blacks. You want pure black.

The lower layer is where I use the MultiFill program to create the digital flats. First you use MultiFill to drop in the random colors, then the companion plug-in Flatter Pro to make those colors seal under the black lines.

This probably sounds like a silly thing to worry about, but if the flat colors don’t line up perfectly under the black line art, you get the dreaded ghosting I mentioned. You can see it below in this image. It’s a tiny little white line that will appear around the black lines and color areas.

This drives me nuts and is an absolute nightmare to fix.

It’s a very common problem, especially for people who work for web and don’t anticipate the problems going from web to print.

What looks great on your computer can cause big problems in print.

From here, my flatter Jul Mae Kristoffer, who is way over in the Philippines, does flatting that is more in keeping with the areas of color I want to isolate. As you see on Layer 1.

But again, this is still pretty ugly, and not what I would use for final color. Flatting is a technical issue, not a creative one, though in some cases a flatter will make choices you may use. Most of the time they don't.

Here is my final color page.

Sometimes my MultiFill flats are so wonky I have a hard time getting my brain to snap out of what I see before me. If I get stuck, it's a good idea to just pick at it and come back to it later.

If it really, really bothers me, I’ll take the MultiFill flatter layer and desaturate the color so it doesn’t poke my eyes out.

Here’s an example. The digital flat file.

The desaturated flat file that doesn’t make me want to poke my eyes out.

And the final color.

Sometimes I just put in a solid white layer so I don’t see the flats at all. Flatting is there to allow you to easily pick spots to color in, and doesn’t usually appear in the final work.

Sometimes I want to create my colors using transparent color over a white ground, which is more delicate in the final.

Here’s an example from Neil Gaiman’s American Gods. I also selected all black line art here and converted it to sepia to give it a vintage look. Except for the fairies. They’re green.

A colorist must also consider color settings.

Different clients can have different requirements. I find these color settings, which I got from the Hi-Fi Studio, to be pretty solid. I use them as my default for all my projects unless otherwise requested. If your publisher has other settings, they’ll usually send you a csf file which you can upload to Photoshop. The program will save your files and you can just switch between them as you need them.

This tells the printer things about the paper and the spread of the ink you will use. That’s what dot gain means - it makes printed color look darker than intended, so you set up your files to account for it.

When you hover your pointer over each box, it will tell you what each setting is supposed to accomplish.

Another really important thing to consider when coloring comics is color range.

I’m coloring this book in RGB range, but for print you use CMYK.

I’m about to confuse the heck out of some people with this post, I’m afraid. But here we go.

Here is this shot in RGB color setting.

And here is the same page calibrated for print in CMYK.

The biggest shift is in the reds. Print cannot match those reds.

You may not see much difference here, but it’s the sort of thing that drives artists crazy.

A computer should be perfect for conveying exactly what you want, right? It's all just 0's and 1's, binary information, and that information should be the same from one computer to the next?

Nope. Not even close.

First off, computer monitors must be calibrated. You can use a computer program or a tool that measures the color on your computer screen and then adjusts the color to an industry standard.

Have you ever been in an electronics shop where a bunch of TV shows were on display, all of them playing the same show, and have you noticed how different the color was from one TV to the next?

It's like that.

I freely admit I don't pay a whole lot of attention to calibration, but if I were a professional photographer I would. I'd have a little spectrometer attached to my screen and software would adjust my monitor to the best possible standard range. As it is, I just use the default setting on my computer and hope for the best.

If your monitor is properly calibrated and your art is shown on another monitor that is properly calibrated, the art will look almost identical from one monitor to the next.

YAY!

But from one monitor to the next, that's about where the resemblance ends.

Colors are calibrated to something called RGB, or Red, Green, Blue.

All colors come from a mix of red green and blue. At their greatest intensity, all the colors in the spectrum together become pure white light.

This is why RGB is called ADDITIVE color, because you ADD colors from the spectrum to get ALL colors, and all colors create the entirety of the rainbow, and pure white light.

Your computer monitor, your phone, your television, all images are created via light using RGB, a gamut that covers all possible colors that can be created.

That's a lot.

And that's why some of the colors you see on your TV or phone are so deep and intense.

For the widest possible range of color and intensity, you use RGB.

Unfortunately, there is what you can create with light, and then there is what you can create with pigment or ink. And that is why printing what you see on your computer almost never looks exactly like what you see in a book.

For printing, you must use a color setting known as CMYK. This stands for Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Key/Black.

In printing, the pure blue is actually Cyan and the pure red is actually Magenta.

CMYK color range is not created by addition, but by SUBTRACTION. In order to get the color you want, you reduce the percentage of one of the four colors for ink mixing. Mixing all colors, instead of giving you white, gives you black.

The gamut of CMYK is limited to what can be created with ink.

You've probably heard the term four color press? This is what that means. Four colors, with each color of ink run over the paper on rollers which, combined in varying layers of opacity, create all the printing colors you see.

But remember, what you see on your computer monitor and what CMYK gamut can handle are two different things.

Now, I’ve been really careful with the color settings on Good Omens, so there haven’t been any big surprises, but let me show you a snippet of a project I did for the French fashion house Balmain.

The RGB version:

And then this shot after it was converted to a CMYK file for print.

That's a pretty big difference.

Now, you see this shift mostly with vibrant colors, such as that pink there. But other colors hardly changed at all, right?

That's because this issue is about range of color. CMYK and RGB occupy a shared range which you can see demonstrated by this graphic I got from Wikipedia.

The graphic shows the RGB ranges supported by various digital formats. SWOP CMYK is the most common range my publishers use. Note that the bounding box line shared by the RGB and SWOP CMYK formats shares about half the range space. So whatever RGB colors you use that are outside that range will be digitally converted to the smaller SWOP CMYK range.

And you may not like what you end up with.

As you can see, some of the most ethereal and intense colors get lost outside of the SWOP CMYK boundary.

A look at the Dark Horse Comics color settings in Photoshop. Theoretically, this information should prevent your art from looking like mud on publication.

Now, after I just told you the dangers of coloring in RGB then converting to CMYK for print, I tell you I am coloring Good Omens in RGB anyway. There’s a couple of reasons for this.

Remember, RGB give you a greater range of color, so it can be to your advantage to preserve your original files using a format that gives you the greatest range.

Again, here is the unaltered file.

You can see what the CMYK result will be simply by clicking the Proof Colors button here. This will show you how the art will convert.

And the Gamut Warning will show you which colors are out of gamut range for print.

The intensity of that magenta and that purple in the top right are not going to print true.

This is how it will look in final.

So even if you do what you think is perfect color on screen, there is no way it can perfectly convert to print. Almost everything will involve a little bit of compromise.

Even though you have to consider the color shift issues, preserving your files in RGB gives you greater wiggle room, especially if you get lucky someday and get to work with a printer who can print in 6 colors. Or maybe some technology you don’t know about will pop up and make printing super glorious. Who knows.

Regardless, you should keep an eye on that gamut and color for CMYK print, while preserving your master files in RGB.

Until next time.

[fashionsfromhistory]

Jacket

c.1630-1650

Italy or England

Several examples of knitted jackets or waistcosts survive in museum collections are waistcoats, with well-known examples in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London (473-1893, 346-1898, 106-1899 and 807-1904). Both men and women wore these items of clothing either as undergarments during the day or as informal déshabillé or undress at home in the evening to provide additional warmth. These items tend to fall into two categories: Italian waistcoats that open down the front, sometimes known as Florentine waistcoats, and those that pulled over the head. Italian waistcoats were knitted using one or two colours of silk yarn, in imitation of patterns found on woven silks, the effect often enhanced with the use of purl stitches. The fine gauge of these waistcoats suggests that they were hand-knitted in professional workshops, using extremely fine metal knitting needles, known as ‘wires’, for wealthy classes to buy as ready-to-wear clothing. The garment is constructed from rectangular knitted sections; two front panels, two back panels and two sleeves. Several have triangular gores inserted to provide additional width over the hips, at home by the wearer or a member of their household. Their name suggests that they were made in Italy and exported to northern Europe, but it is now known that fine silk yarns were imported from Naples to London from the late sixteenth century to supply the native knitting industry. Because knitted waistcoats were for informal wear there are no known sources showing them being worn, making it hard to give them a more specific date. They appear to have originated at the beginning of the seventeenth century. Lady Elizabeth Howard, the wife of Lord William Howard (1563–1640) ordered ‘a pound of woosted for wastecotes’ for 9 shillings in 1618 and the Danish Royal family used knitted silk waistcoats for children’s shrouds during this period. Knitted waistcoats continued to be worn throughout the century. There are records of waistcoats being relined during the course of their use. Sir Thomas Isham (1656/7–81) is billed £1 5s 6d from his tailor for ‘new Lining A Purple and gold Silke knit wastcoate’ in April 1680. There are continuing references to them also in the early eighteenth century, including a London newspaper report of the theft of a ‘green silk knit waistcoat with gold and silver flowers all over it’ in 1712.

Glasgow Museums (ID Number: 29.126)

[jewellery-box]

Dress, circa 1883-1885, Scotland

Silk, cotton, linen, metal

Description: Woman’s dress in cream corded silk chine printed with abstract floral design in red, blue, brown and yellow, with small, rectangular neckline with facing in pleated red silk satin, fitted bodice constructed in six panels, fastening centre front with red cord lacing through fourteen pairs of eyelets over a stomacher-style panel of horizontal cream machine lace frills. Elbow-length sleeves with pleated red silk satin cuffs. Skirt, full-length, fastening on left with five metal hooks and eyes, chine overskirt pleated into waistline at front and over hips at side, side panels trimmed with vertical border of cream machine lace and frill of cream machine lace extending into lower side edges of train, centre back cut-in-one with bodice with additional width in skirt to go over bustle, extending into a long train, red silk satin frill under hem. Petticoat-style underskirt revealed in front in cream silk satin underskirt decorated with six slightly asymmetrical horizontal rows of cream machine lace. Bodice lined in printed cotton, fitted with eight metal bones and waistband. Skirt front lined with linen and printed cotton, sides and back lined with printed cotton, integral thirteen-inch wire mesh bustle with two sets of twill weave tapes to pull fullness to back to create train, balayeuse around hem of skirt and train. Waistband printed in light green ‘R. Simpson and Sons Costumiers Jamaica St. Corner Glasgow’.

Worn by Ann Smith, the wife of Robert Kirk Simpson of R Simpson and Sons.

This romantic dress is printed with roses and has machine-lace frills on the skirt. In the 1870s and 1880s fashion looked back to the late 1700s, with its flamboyant fabrics, for inspiration. The blurred effect on this evening dress is created by printing the warp prints before the fabric is woven. This ikat technique originated in Asia and was introduced to France in the mid-1700s, where it was known as chiné. Here, it’s use, together with the laced bodice and open over-skirt draped back over the hips and into the bustle, reflect the historical revival style with its imitation of an eighteenth-century open gown.

Glasgow Museums Collection Online

[sgiandubh]

No nice things anymore

Speaking of Siobhan Mackenzie...

It was enough to have her breathing in the same room as S, at that up-and-coming Scottish luxury brands pop-up shop hosted by The Kimpton Hotel in EDI, yesterday. The traditional troll immediately went after the scent, heavily speculating S and her were an item. And then, of course, the above happened: yes, Elephant Woman is back, in her umpteenth reincarnation, this time on Instagram.

I loved the answer:

There is nothing to substantiate a relationship between S and this lovely young woman, other than the delirious fanfic peddled by a well-known troll. But that was enough to make a really unhinged person go berserk. The same person who (as we all know) already tried to approach S in the open, in Glasgow (and also perhaps elsewhere?), last winter and is always resurrected by Instagram's loose user protection mechanisms.

Why do people even bother to pay for that blue check, if that blue check does not grant them basic protection?

And people wonder why we do not have nice things, anymore?

Look no further. I absolutely understand why and I bet the farm that, during all those last ten years, there have been many more things like this, possibly even scary things, we will never, ever know anything about.

Let's have Elephant Woman blocked again. Please. Everyone. To your keyboards. Now.

The more we do it, the more effective it will be. Thank you all.

PS: that sad, sad Spanish/Latina woman follows S, the spirits business (and its clone!) and is followed by at least 15 of S's clones. This is what happens when people with serious, real mental health issues are left to their own devices in an almost completely deregulated online environment.

[margareth-lv]

💉 Botox, dermal fillers and tristesse 💉

First of all, I want to make an important disclaimer.

There is not a shred of body shaming in what I am writing about in today's post. Nor is there any mockery of cosmetic surgery procedures.

I myself am a great admirer of facial treatments, effective wrinkle reduction and in not letting time take its toll.

In fact, I think (using my own example) that Botox is not a killer, and that it can beautifully smooth out features. And make you feel better. So - stop shaming women for having Botox.

But let's look at something else.

*** *** *** I think everything has been said about Caitríona Mary Balfe's infamous performance last weekend. So what I'd like to add is pretty much a reiteration of what you've already written about, Sisters in Arms… in Fandom…. But I just cannot help myself.

*** *** ***

The photos below are taken almost a year apart (left - Grilled by The Staff Canteen on 8 March 2023 in Glasgow, right - JW Anderson's catwalk show on 18 February 2024 in London).

Well, nobody gets younger over time (well, unless you're Dorian Grey or, even better, Benjamin Button). And it's not just a matter of good (or bad) lighting on your face. If your eyebrows are sagging, they're not going to lift themselves. Unless you have Botox in your temples. Then you get an effect like the one in the photo on the right.

I bet she also had a suture suspension facelift (also known as a thread lift). This improves the contour of the face.

So admiring Cait's undying beauty (which I don't question, she's really gorgeous!) must include the surgical factor. And there is no shame or disgust about it. *** *** *** Although the most important factor affecting Caitríon's face is obviously Sam. Even with the wrinkles around her eyes, doesn't she look younger when she's close to Sam?

(on the left, Glasgow, 29 April 2022)

And then there's the left, nervously squinted eye, an unmistakable sign that Mr McNobody is hovering nearby.

This eye is not the result of failed facial surgery. It's born out of the Hopeless Narrative, that seems to have no end. What a sad, tragic story this is. An unmitigated disaster.

[21 February, 2024]

[brian-in-finance]

A Tale of Two Tonys

and Brian knows the difference 😉

Part Four of Four

It was suggested elsewhere in July* Brian confuses the Tonys’ roles. It’s also suggested one Tony entered the spotlight only when a(n imagined) narrative required a participant. (*Waited for today’s Happy Birthday 🥳)

Longer still before TV-Outlander…

The Fratellis — Jon, Mince, and Baz — and manager Tony McGill at SXSW 2007 (Photo: Wikipedia)

Music agency wound down after discord over funding

A MUSIC organisation which helped Franz Ferdinand and Snow Patrol find fame has been wound down amid uncertainty over its financial future.

One official from NewMusic in Scotland (Nemis) has criticised the government and the Scottish Arts Council (SAC) for failing to give contemporary music the level of support of other art forms.

However, the SAC said Nemis had failed to provide audited accounts and a business plan, and pointed out that a number of its board members had resigned recently. It has already had GBP 100,000 of public money.

Nemis, which has an office in Jamaica Street, Glasgow, offers advice to musicians and bands on a one-to-one basis and through organised seminars, as well as helping with marketing and promotion. It also has had a pivotal role in the annual Musicworks convention in Glasgow.

Two years ago, it produced a promotional CD of Scottishbased bands which went to some of Europe's most influential industry executives at the MTVEurope Music Awards in Edinburgh, including offerings from the-then little known bands Franz Ferdinand and Snow Patrol.

But now the four-year-old development agency has said it has run out of money and it will effectively have to halt operations. Only its website, offering contacts and diary dates, will remain.

The agency has had arts council grants worth GBP 70,000, and GBP 30,000 in start-up help from Scottish Enterprise.

Alec Downie, new music development officer forNemis, said the body could not continue its work and was scathing of "elitism" in arts funding.

"In my view, the arts council is nepotistic and bureaucratic and, most of all, is out of touch with what is happening now. I would argue that the likes of The Delgados, Chemikal Underground, and Belle and Sebastian are culturally significant, but they (the arts council)would not.

"That shows the mentality of the people that control the arts here."

Scott Twynholm, of the Glasgow electro-pop band Hoboken said help from Nemis had proved vital. The band released an album last year and will release a single next month.

"Through Nemis, we appeared on two CDs which were distributed at the majormusic conferences throughout the world, " Mr Twynholm said.

"There is no way we would be in the position of recording our second album, or our new single, were it not for the help and advice Nemis has provided."

Tony McGill, manager of The Fratellis, who recently signed to Island records, said: "I have got the MD of Island to send a strongly worded e-mail to the SAC because the work Nemis does is crucial.

"When you are starting out as a band, you don't knowwhat to do, you don't have the contacts or the knowhow, and Nemis supplies all that. I am shocked this is happening."

An SAC spokeswoman said there was no doubt of "absolute commitment" by Nemis to its work, but the council was "a steward of public funds and needs to be confident that public funding is being spent to best effect in an organisation that can clearly articulate where it is going".

She said it was not accurate to say that Nemis's funds had been cut, as it was not given revenue grants, but one-off assistance. Neither, she said, had it officially applied for new funds of any kind, nor did it raise any of its own income.

The SAC statement added:

"Essentially . . . it is an issue of confidence: information requested has not been supplied - fundamental information such as audited accounts and a clear business plan.

"We are primarily concerned with the governance and structure of Nemis. It is unclear whether Nemis is a membership organisation solely or is a limited company purporting to represent the contemporary music sector in Scotland."

SUCCESS STORIES

NEMIS promotional CD given out at MTV Europe Awards in November 2003 included:

The Darts of Pleasure - Franz Ferdinand

Spitting Games - Snow Patrol

I Love You Cause I Have To - Dogs Die in Hot Cars

Sons & Daughters - Johnny Cash

With Aplomb -Biffy Clyro

Maybe It's Time -The Grim Northern Social

Black Path - Aereogramme

Destroy Rock & Roll - Mylo

The Herald 26 October 2005

Music Week 2 September 2006

World Radio History 26 April 2008

World Radio History 7 June 2008

Remember… when you are starting out as a band, you don't know what to do, you don't have the contacts or the knowhow, and Nemis supplies all that. I am shocked this is happening. — Tony McGill

MD - music director

Later edit: “Waited for today’s Happy Birthday” in the first paragraph should say “yesterday’s.” The birthday is 12 October. I got busy, posted late, and forgot to update. Oops… (This bit won’t show up on reblogs posted before 19 October 2024.)

[toomuchracket]

the birthday (after)party

hiya! here it is, part 2 of the birthday party! this one's EXTREMELY long and 18+ (beware, there is unprotected sex in this), because you are all horny bitches (affectionate) and wanted smut even though i have never written it before in my LIFE, but there is also a lot of requited love. please enjoy both the fic and this picture of matty i took at atvb glasgow, which is so sexy that it makes me want to gnaw my own arm off like chloë sevigny in bones and all (that's kinda spoilery. soz) - therefore, the perfect vibe for this. also, i don't think i clarified last time, but this fic is afab!reader, and there is gratuitous use of the phrase "good girl" within this part. thanks for all the support, and happy reading!

despite his penchant for smoke breaks in the cold, matty's hands are warm against your own. your fingers are interlaced with his, puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place, and the backs of your hands are pressed up against the wall behind you as the two of you continue your kisses.

when matty pulls away for a breath, you seize your chance and bring your connected hands to your mouth, kissing each of his knuckles consecutively, then standing on tiptoe to press a sweet kiss on his lips. eyes heavy with want, matty sighs softly as you lower your heels back onto the ground. he wraps both arms around your waist, while yours settle into their new home around his shoulders. "you're killin' me, darlin'," matty says into your hair, breathing in the botanical scent of your shampoo. "you're too sweet. i'm gonna die of a sugar rush if you keep it up."

you smile into the crook of matty's neck, one hand playing with the curls at the nape. the nail of your pinkie finger lightly scratches the milky skin there by accident, and you feel his breath hitch. a flush of desire passes over you, and you - still lightly, but with enough pressure to make your intentions clear - continue to slowly rake your hand downwards, across the defined back muscles obvious even through a suit jacket. "i can be even sweeter," you whisper into matty's ear, savouring the way his breathing slows. experimentally, you place a feather-light kiss on the spot where his jaw and neck meet, for which you are rewarded with a throaty groan that shoots straight into your lower stomach, and another on his lips. "why don't you take me home, and i can show you just how sweet i can be for you?"

just like he did with the cigarette earlier, matty breathes slowly into your mouth, hands sliding down to rest on your ass. this time, his exhale is shaky with obvious lust, rather than cigarette smoke; still, you feel a rush of something chemical, and tense every muscle in your body in war against the urge to squeal in ecstatic shock about the effect you have on him. his eyes blink open slowly, that beautiful brown almost hidden completely by his dilated pupils. "i've never wanted anything more in my life," he murmurs against your lips. he pulls his head back slightly, and the tenderness in his gaze almost makes you cry. suddenly, though, in a way that's just so matty, the tenderness changes to glee as he cheekily slaps your asscheek. "let's get a move on, then!"

you roll your eyes, but hold out your hand for him to take; after kissing it quickly, matty leads the two of you back into the bar. although the placement of his hand in yours is by no means new - you've lost count of the times you've desperately grasped each other at shows and festivals and on nights out, your joined hands keeping you from getting lost in seas of strangers - you've never noticed just how right it feels, his calloused hand on your ink stained one. the closest analogy you can think of is likening it to a favourite sweater. a perfect fit. warm. relaxing. something you don't ever want to take off.

matty continues to hold your hand when you re-enter the bar, too, only dropping it to help you with your coat; even then, he takes it back in his grasp immediately as soon as you turn to face him, and smiles excitedly at you. "ready to go, sweetheart?"

he's so beautiful in this moment, all sharp jaw and grey strands of hair and big brown eyes illuminated by the dim but warm lighting in the bar. you tell him that, and watch his cheeks tint pink as he shakes his head, smiling in spite of himself. moving closer to you, matty kisses your temple and leans to murmur something in your ear. "you need to stop saying stuff like that, babe, or i won't make it home."

your heart flutters against your sternum - whether from desire or sheer shock at just how much matty wants you, you aren't sure. maybe both. "let's go, then."

a final kiss to your lips, and matty pulls you towards the door in a french exit. as you pass the dancefloor, though, you make eye contact with the birthday girl, now jumping around with her fiancé to a talking heads song. her eyes widen as she clocks you and matty's linked hands and half-out-the-door state; when they snap up to meet yours, you quirk your brows and wink, to which she responds with a cheer of "FUCKING FINALLY!". some of your other friends start to turn around at the noise, but you and matty are outside before they notice you.

the familiar walk to matty's house is short, although the burning desire practically radiating off the pair of you makes it seem far longer. that, and the fact that matty insists on stopping at every red-lit pedestrian crossing, despite the uncharacteristic lack of london traffic; as you wait for the red men to vacate and the green to appear, he kisses you as deeply as he can within the limited timeframe.

after you've made it past the busier area and turned onto his street, you tease him about the frequent liplocking. "you really like smooching me, don't you?"

"yeah, i do," matty replies, in that cocky-yet-charming manner of his. "and you'd better get used to it, babe, because i've got to make up for all the years i wanted to kiss you and didn't, haven't i?"

christ.

your cheeks begin to burn, and you tuck your face into matty's side in an attempt to cool them down. "oh my god."

matty only giggles, throwing his arm gently around your head and kissing your temple. "i'm serious! the worst time was when we were all at mine and you got the call about your first novel getting picked for publication-"

"oh no."

"-and i walked into the kitchen and you were just sittin' on my countertop cry-laughin' in that green dress - my favourite, by the way - and you just looked at me and said 'they're publishing it' with total joy in your eyes," matty continues, ignoring your protests. "i just wanted to plant one on you so badly in that moment. i was so proud of you - still am, every day."

his confession liquifies your insides into a puddle. you stop, now outside his front door, and lean up on tiptoe to kiss him - gently at first, then with unabashed desire, until you're forced to pull away to breathe. "et toi, angel. now, get us inside and you can make up for all those years properly, yeah?"

spurred on by your request, matty presses your back against the door, kissing you sloppily as he tries to find his keys in his pocket. once he does, he breaks from your lips and fumbles with the lock, shaking hands not helped by your pressing kisses into his neck. "god, you're gonna be the death of me" he groans, as he finally gets the door open and walks you inside. "but fuck, i'll die a happy man."

you begin to giggle, the sound quickly cut off by matty's lips returning to yours. he slides your bag and coat off your shoulders, leaving them in a heap on the floor and pressing you against the wall. one hand tenderly cradles the back of your head, stopping it from smashing off the concrete, while the other grips your ass, pushing the front of your body against his, lithe and hard and hot. at the contact, heat pulses through your body and settles between your legs. "matty," you whimper into his open mouth. "need you."

"ok, sweetheart, you'll have me" matty breathes, kissing down your neck as he toes off his shoes. he begins to trail kisses down your body, crouching to unfasten the ankle straps of your heels. as he reaches eye-level with your thighs, he removes his lips from you, hands ghosting over the hem of your dress as you kick your shoes off - however, your involuntary hiss as your bare feet meet freezing concrete causes matty to pause his movement, clearly rethinking any notions he had of having his way with you in the hallway. before you can apologise for the noise, he's back standing, hands under your ass and wrapping your legs around his waist. "bedroom."

you continue to kiss as matty carries you - with surprising speed - through the twisting corridors of his house, only breaking it to giggle at him bashing his foot against the bedroom door as he kicks it open. the pain causes matty to drop you quite unceremoniously on his bed, and he mutters an apology before sliding off his suit jacket and crawling over you to return his lips to yours. this is the most passionate kiss of the night thus far, sloppy, hungry, as if you're both trying to consume the other.

suddenly lightheaded - but unsure if it's from lack of oxygen or want for matty overwhelming your very being - you break the kiss, instead focusing on sitting up and unbuttoning matty's shirt with trembling hands. he sits up on his knees and brings his hands to his chest to guide yours, pressing little kisses over your face. "hey, hey, darlin', it's alright," he coos. "know you want me, but i need you to calm down a bit, ok? relax. we have all the time in the world."

you exhale slowly, shakily, pushing matty's now unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. no matter how many times you see matty shirtless, whether he's sunbathing at a barbecue or dancing wildly onstage, his tattoos and defined muscles always make your knees threaten to give way; here, now, seeing them so close while on his bed, the effect of the sight goes straight to your core. and yet, despite the desire pulsing through your veins and beginning to pool in your panties, you don't feel compelled to immediately begin leaving hickeys or raking your nails all over matty's exposed skin. instead, you lean forward and place a chaste kiss over his chest tattoo, over his sternum, over his heart; that's what you feel compelled to do, probably by the same supernatural force that encouraged you to join matty in the smoking area and end up here.

it's matty's turn to exhale now, hand coming up to lightly stroke your messy hair as you rest your forehead against his heart, arms wrapping around him. you stay like that for a minute, enjoying the calmness of the sweet moment, until matty breaks the silence with a bombshell of a sigh. "fuck, i'm so in love with you."

you detach from him like you've been shocked, tilting your gaze to meet his. a beat passes, then matty begins to ramble, apologies and "its true but i shouldn't have said it"s and "let's just forget i said it"s and more apologies falling from his lips like a modern-day Joyce protagonist. before he talks himself unconscious, you shut him up the simplest way you know how: pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. when matty seems to have calmed down a bit, you pull away and bring your hands to his jaw, just as he did to you earlier. "i'm in love with you too."

his eyes widen. "you mean it?"

you nod. because you do mean it - you are in love with him. you have been for a while. you miss him when you aren't with him. you get butterflies in your stomach when you are. on more than one occasion, you've thought about what it would be like to grow old with him, the two of you still writing together at a farmhouse kitchen table while your grandkids play in the garden and multiple dogs lie at your feet. you like yourself better when you're around him. you like others better when you're around him. you want to cry at the mere thought of him with somebody else. you would do anything he wanted you to, and you know he would do anything for you. yeah. you're in love with matty, alright.

"oh, sweetheart," matty smiles, his eyes glassy as he pulls you into him and crashes his lips to yours. while there's an undercurrent of desire, this kiss is softer, sweeter, calmer; it feels like coming home. after it ends, matty rests his forehead against yours. the two of you bask in the tender glow of the moment - that is, until matty says something suggestive, as is his wont. "will you let me go down on you to show you how much i love you?"

in spite of the recent revelations, and the subsequent softness in the air, matty's question sends a burst of heat to your core so strong that you struggle to speak. nodding frantically, you croak out a "yes", and close your eyes as matty begins to kiss your neck and lift the hem of your dress, only reopening them once the black velvet is lifted over your head and matty lets out a quiet curse in exclamation. his pupils are almost fully dilated, eyes raking up and down your lingerie-clad body, mouth agape, hands clenching and unclenching.

to egg him on, you quickly reach around to unclasp your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and discarding it somewhere on matty's floor. it has the desired effect; he blinks slowly once, then all but pounces on you, covering your boobs with grabs and caresses and kisses and sucks and bites. you relish matty's worship for a few glorious minutes, before he pulls himself up to your lips to kiss them again. "you're so beautiful," he mutters against your lips. "can i get you naked now, sweetheart?"

fuck. you whimper an affirmative, and you feel him smile against you before he gently pushes you down into the mattress. "lie down for me, baby, that's it," matty coos as he settles himself on his stomach, head resting on your thigh. eyes locked on yours, he slides a single finger up the middle of your clothed core, pressing it gently on your clit and making you gasp. "fuck, you're so responsive. good girl."

with that devastating phrase, matty hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them down, pushing your legs up to slide the black lace fully off and throw them away. he winks at you, grinning, then wraps his arms around your thighs and buries his face between your legs.

a cry of his name escapes your throat before you can stop it, which only seems to encourage him. you knew matty had a mouth on him, but this far exceeds any wet dream you've ever had; he's everywhere, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it, then licking into you and lapping up your wetness like it's caramel, making you writhe on his mattress. somewhere in your addled brain, you thank everything holy for soundproofing concrete so well - had this dalliance taken place in your flat, the noises matty is coaxing out of you would warrant complaints from every other tenant in your whole building. he's making noise, too, moaning into your core and praising your sweet taste every time he comes up for air.

as the pressure in your lower stomach begins to grow, your hands find themselves on your boobs, squeezing and pinching your nipples in an imitation of matty's earlier actions. he stops working on you with his mouth, thumb toying with your clit as he admires you. "that's my girl," matty says, sending a direct shockwave to your clit. "my beautiful, beautiful girl. god, i love you so much."

with that, his mouth is back on your core, fingers parting your folds and thrusting inside you. the combination makes your head spin, the pressure within you growing ever-nearer to breaking point. one of your hands latches itself into matty's curls, resulting in another throaty groan, and you begin to grind yourself against his face and hand. "matty," you whimper, back arching off the bed. "please don't stop. m'so close, m'so fucking close."

matty moans into you again, speeding up his movements ever so slightly. he pulls his mouth from you briefly, so he's understood. "cum for me, sweetheart," he pants, thumb substituting for his tongue on your clit as he speaks. "be a good girl and cum on my tongue." with that, back down he goes. as soon as his tongue returns to you, your orgasm hits; you scream, clenching around his fingers, your whole body convulsing in icily-burning ecstasy. matty pulls every last bit of pleasure out of you, lapping at your clit increasingly softly until you whimper at the sensitivity.

matty pulls himself up to hover over your panting chest, although his forearms shake with the effort after how tight he held your thighs. he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, making you moan at the taste of yourself on him, before he speaks. "that was the sexiest thing i have ever experienced. i'm gonna think about that every fucking day of my life. thank you."

still breathing heavily, you giggle, pulling him down to lie atop you. matty nuzzles sweetly into your neck, somewhat contrasting the eroticism of his hard cock against your stomach. you bring a hand to the buckle of his trousers, which makes him sigh in contentment, and begin to undo it. "oh, i love you. thank you. will you let me return the favour now, angel?"

matty moans into your neck, his hands moving to his trousers to help you pull them down. he leans back slightly to kick them off, then sits up on his knees before you. "honestly, baby, as good as that sounds... i'm quite desperate to be inside you, if you feel ready for that."

slightly embarrassingly, you feel yourself get wet at matty's words. sitting up, you capture his lips with your own, your hands tugging at the waistband of his boxers. "please."

matty swears under his breath and yanks his boxers down his legs. holy fuck. his cock is beautiful; long and hard, weeping for attention. you swipe your thumb over the tip as matty reaches across to his bedside table, but he pulls back with a "for fuck's sake" before you start to work him further. "fuck, the condoms are in the bathroom cupboard. i'll be two seconds, babe, let me just-"

"wait," you sit up on your elbows, preening internally at the way matty's gaze falls to your boobs moving as you do so. "i mean... i'm alright not using one, if you're cool with that. i don't mind, either way."

matty's eyes close, and you don't miss the way his cock twitches slightly at your words. "well, i'm clean, if you're sure you don't mind going without-"

"i am too"

"-but what about... other things?"

"well, going by my biological calendar, we should manage to avoid that this time," you begin, moving to caress his face, his eyes fluttering open as you do. "but even if we don't, i've always maintained that you'd be a proper dilf, so..."

"fuck, i really do love you," matty grins, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. he settles himself better between your legs, wrapping them around his waist, thumb lightly circling your sensitive clit. "do you want me to fuck you now?"

you slide your arms down onto the bed so you're lying flat again, tipping your head back against the pillows. "mhmm."

matty moves so he's leaning over you, pausing his hand movement and replacing his thumb on your clit with the tip of his cock. "need to hear you say it, sweetheart" he whispers, directly into your ear. "can you do that for me?"

the whole scenario is so erotic that you can't stop the needy whimpers you emit as a response. "please, please matty, want you inside me, please".

"good girl," comes the reply, and then matty's cock is at your entrance, pushing slowly inside you, stretching you out. he's big, the biggest you've ever had, but the stretch and the sensation of him inside you after all this time is nothing short of delicious. matty leans down to kiss you as he bottoms out, the two of you moaning into each other's mouths like it's your own shared language.

after a few slow thrusts, matty breaks the kiss to hover over you. "fuck... shit, you feel so good, baby," he pants out between thrusts. "can i speed up a bit? are you ready?"

his attentiveness towards you is incredible; matty looks like he might combust if he doesn't pick up the pace, jaw open and loose and dark eyes heavy, but he keeps the slow tempo until you answer. "fuck me harder, please. want it so bad."

matty smiles above you, kissing your forehead gently. "anything for my girl."

and with that, most of the gentleness disappears; matty pulls out almost all the way, then slams back into you, making you cry out his name and tangle your fingers in his hair again. he picks up speed, too, moving those hips of his rapidly as he chases orgasms for both of you.

the position doesn't change the whole time - it's perfect, matty's cock hitting your sweet spot every thrust and making you clench around him. you're aware of yourself babbling between moans of his name, but you have no idea what you're saying; all coherent thought in your brain has been replaced by love for the man above you and his sexual prowess, the man alternating between kissing your neck and sucking on your nipples, the man responding to your shit-talking with adoring coos. "fuck, good girl, taking my cock so well, so perfectly. you were fucking made for me, weren't you? made for me to make you feel good, yeah?"

it's overwhelming, especially after the intensity of your last orgasm. the familiar feeling in your stomach begins to build again, your jaw trembling and eyes rolling back into your head as matty continues to fuck you just so perfectly. when your legs begin to shake around his waist, he brings his thumb to your clit and kisses into your neck. "you're close, aren't you, sweetheart? can you cum for me again? cum all over my cock?"

again, it's matty's words that do it. you yank his face down to your own, scratching his back so hard it bleeds and making out with him as he brings you to another convulsing orgasm. it's not a long kiss, though - matty pulls away from you as you clench around him in the throes of pleasure, his hips stuttering as he nears his own release. "where...?"

"inside," you gasp out, clinging to his sweaty shoulders. "wanna feel you."

face above you, dark eyes boring into your own, matty whines loudly - the hottest thing you've ever heard - as he finishes inside you, pulsing heat into your core. he holds himself up long enough afterwards to place a kiss on the end of your nose, then flops on top of you, cock softening inside you, head resting on your boobs. "best sex i've ever had. i love you."

"i love you too," you reply, caressing his sweaty hair. "can't wait to do that with you every day for the rest of our lives."

matty giggles softly, kissing inbetween your boobs before raising his head to look at you. "and i was thinking, if we have a boy in 9 months, we should name him after me."

"whatever you want, babe."

[luhafraser]

Did anyone really think that Sam posting from London wouldn't be the start of another "play"?

Does anyone really believe that from Gran Canaria until now, nothing else would appear if they were really together?

Wow, only Caitríona seems to have stalkers in Glasgow... Too bad Sam can't use this in an interview. 😜😂

At this point this whole shitshow seems more about generating content, engagements, likes, views, hashtags... buzz... whatever...

What I see is the same story and it continues to have the same effect in this fandom... We are all here giving our opinions, theorizing, refuting this or that, posting about and joking...

I'll say again I'm curious to know what happens in moments of total silence, in trips that aren't shown, everything that isn't posted, what "fans" and russians don't capture... 😉😂 Where was Caitríona during the "Hyrox Circus" Weekend? Isn't she the one who keeps being stalked? With detectives after her? 🤔😝😂

Hey Sam... I'm curious to know what happened between you and Graham... Because you guys didn't stop being friends just because of whiskey, right?! What else is there?

I didn't see you and Caitríona get into a fight over the gin. Forget me not, however forgotten it may be, was still the first. By that logic, you would have "robbed" Cait just as much as Graham would have "robbed" you.

I hope I'm wrong about everything I think and say... But considering this here 👇 You were right when you said that "there's always a Tony" and apparently you're "Tony" this time... #shame 🫣😝😂

[mountingpulisic]

wish you the best (mason m.)

summary : a mutual friend's wedding brings two past lovers together again.

word count : 1,054

a/n : highly suggest listening to wish you the best by lewis capaldi, *chef's kiss*

i miss knowing what you're thinking

and hearing how your day has been

do you think you could tell me everything, darling

but leave out every part about him?

he had caught sight of you first. 

his coffee-colored orbs analyzed every small detail of you, attempting to discover anything that had been reconstructed since the last time the two of you spoke. 

seeing you for the first time in ten months, a million questions arose within him but there was only one he gravely needed an answer to. 

right now you're probably by the ocean

while i'm still out here in the rain

with every day that passes, passes with focus

it's like glasgow gets farther from l.a

in the wake of the break-up with mason, you needed to get out of england. 

you needed to be able to breathe.

you disclosed to a mutual friend of yours that you settled into a home neighboring the sea, the ocean being a safe haven for you ever since you were young. 

it was only fitting to be drawn back to it after you left mason standing out in the rain. 

but, oh, my love

i wanna say, "i miss the green in your eyes"

and when i said we could be friends, guess i lied

i wanna say, "i wish that you never left"

oh, but i said, "i only wish you the best"

gravitating to where you stood alone in the ballroom, mason could hear his heart rate increase. 

he was nervous, nonetheless. 

he wanted to confine into you how much he had missed you.

he wanted to confess to you that he had lied when he meekly suggested that the two of you could remain friends during the aftermath of that heart-rending fight out in the rain. 

mason wished you never left. 

he wished he never wished you the best.

i wanna say, "without you, everything's wrong"

qnd you were everything i need all along

i wanna say, "i wish that you never left"

ohh, but instead, "i only wish you the best”

mason by no means blamed you for anything that was going wrong in his life right now, however he did feel as if you caused the domino effect when you walked away from him. 

his words that night were rooted in anger when he shrieked that he didn’t need you, that he was better off without you and all the baggage that came along with.

he wanted to apologize.

but then his long strides turned into small footsteps when he noticed the male individual approach you, handing you a glass of champagne as you gave him a delicate smile, thanking him. 

mason felt like the wind had been knocked out of him watching the interaction. 

well i can't help but notice

you seem happier than ever now

and i guess i should tell you that i'm sorry

it seems i was the problem somehow

he was aware that he should’ve stopped staring, that for the sake of his heart he needed to rip his focus away from the scene.

but you looked happier. 

your smile reached your eyes now, showcasing your warm smile as you laughed at a joke your male companion cracked. 

the urge to apologize only grew deeper as mason pondered on the realization that he had been the problem. 

he was the one barely home. 

he was the one who hadn't defended you. 

he was the one who initially told you to leave. 

maybe i only brought you down

you weren’t meant for the life that mason had pursued. 

you didn’t enjoy all the glitz and glamor that came along with being a footballer’s girlfriend, you wanted it comfortable but mason’s life had only brought pain. 

your confidence being ripped apart daily by fans critiquing every detail about and harassing you on the fact that you didn’t deserve him. somewhere along the way you started to believe them, you let these strangers point a finger in your face and tell you you're no good. 

due to your lack of defense and mason's lack of empathy regarding the situation, caused for turmoil to subside in your relationship.

but, oh, my love

i wanna say, "i miss the green in your eyes"

and when i said we could be friends, guess i lied

i wanna say, "i wish that you never left"

oh, but i said, "i only wish you the best"

when he stopped in the middle of the ballroom is when you noticed him, standing only five feet away from you.  

you noticed how his shoulders had become broader by how his suit was hugging his new found muscles. 

you noticed how his hair had grown out from his spring of the moment buzzcut since the last time you saw him. 

you noticed how since the moment you two had gained eye contact, neither of you have looked away. 

you missed mason, you missed everything about him and more. 

when he suggested that the two of you would remain friends, something in you had scattered. 

you wanted him to fight for you, you wanted him to comfort you and tell you that he didn’t mean those nasty words he said.

you wanted him to scope down and rescue you

but he hadn’t and even without the grand gesture of trying to win you back

you wish you hadn’t left.

wish i could say it's something i really need

but i want you happy whether not it's with me

i wanna say, "i wish that you never left"

oh, but instead, "i only wish you the best"

in that moment mason realized he needed to let you go. 

you were happy and it wasn’t with him. 

giving you a small nod of acknowledgement, he raised his hand and softly waved at you, flashing you a timid smile as the male at your side tried to regain your attention. 

turning around, mason walked out onto the patio as he tried to regain composure. 

i wanna say, "without you, everything's wrong"

and you were everything i need all along

i wanna say, "i wish that you never left"

oh, but instead, "i only wish you the best"

you had followed him out there. 

the sight before your eyes made your heart contract tightly.

mason had his head in his hands as he tried to conceal his quiet sobs, lifting his head as he used the back of his hand to wipe off the tears that found home onto his cheeks.

staring up at you with glossy eyes, he couldn't help how his bottom lip quivered. you being there here only reminded him of how alone he felt, that how once he was on top of the world and now the world was on top of him.

taking the seat next to him, you timorously intertwined your hand through his, brushing your thumb back and forth against his palm. 

“i wish i never left.” 

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Arrangement was very simple, so simple in fact that it didn’t really deserve the capital letter, which it had got for simply being in existence for so long. It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize that they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies. It meant a tacit non-interference in certain of each other’s activities. It made certain that while neither really won, also neither really lost, and both were able to demonstrate to their masters the great strides they were making against a cunning and well-informed adversary.

It meant that Crowley had been allowed to develop Manchester, while Aziraphale had a free hand in the whole of Shropshire. Crowley took Glasgow, Aziraphale had Edinburgh (neither claimed any responsibility for Milton Keynes, [Note for Americans and other aliens: Milton Keynes is a new city approximately halfway between London and Birmingham. It was built to be modern, efficient, healthy, and, all in all, a pleasant place to live. Many Britons find this amusing.] but both reported it as a success).

And then, of course, it had seemed even natural that they should, as it were, hold the fort for one another whenever common sense dictated. Both were of angel stock, after all. If one was going to Hull for a quick temptation, it made sense to nip across the city and carry out a standard brief moment of divine ecstasy. It’d get done anyway, and being sensible about it gave everyone more free time and cut down on expenses.

Aziraphale felt the occasional pang of guilt about this, but centuries of association with humanity was having the same effect on him as it was on Crowley, except in the other direction.

Besides, the Authorities didn’t seem to care much who did anything, so long as it got done.

- Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch

[scotianostra]

Happy Canada Day!

The British North America Act took effect as the Constitution of Canada, creating the Canadian Confederation and Glasgow born John A. Macdonald was sworn as first Prime Minister today in 1867.

The Maple leaf above has the Regional tartans of Canada in it. All of Canada’s provinces and territories, except for Nunavut, have regional tartans, as do many other regional divisions in Canada. Tartans were first brought to Canada by Scottish settlers; the first province to adopt one officially was Nova Scotia in 1956 (when registered at the Court of the Lord Lyon; adopted by law in 1963), and the most recent province was Ontario, in 2000. Except for the tartan of Quebec, all of the provincial and territorial tartans are officially recognised and registered in the books of the Court of the Lord Lyon, King of Arms of Scotland.

The tartan for Canada as a whole is known as the maple leaf tartan and became an official national symbol in 2011, you can find itat the link below

[3terna15unshin3]

Consumption

Este sees 'Consumption' in person

2259 words

warnings: !! 18+ !! smut, minors dni, public unprotected sex, dom!matty if u squint, filth in general

—

a/n: Heyyyyy nobody requested even anything similar to this but I had a vision and needed to fulfil it ok thank u love u enjoy

(I wrote an entire 15 chapter fic of this universe! Read it here if you want more Matty and Este😌)

—

Luckily, by the time the UK and Ireland leg of their tour came around, Este was able to work remotely and travel along with them. It was cold and gloomy—London pulling through with its regular dreariness—so she was happy to have at least a bit of a change of scenery.

Until now, she was forced to watch from afar, only seeing photos and videos of the North American shows back in autumn. But of course, Matty was completely open with her as the show as a whole came to fruition; its set design and artistic concepts always shared between the couple. So none of it (even the parts that were as jarring as watching footage of her boyfriend chowing down on raw meat) came as a surprise for Este. That was until she got to experience it in front of her own two eyes.

Brighton was the first show. 8th of January. Her feet were perched to the side of the stage, swaying happily to the familiar songs and watching Matty perform them with an inflated ego and sly smirk on his face.

She thought the persona was quite hot. The heat in her cheeks heightened every time he made cocky gestures and pranced around with purposeful pride. Este had already seen plenty of videos of ‘consumption’, and had her own fun with them; teasing Matty about how much the concept exposed him and how crazy it made the crowd go. They were feral for him. So was she, to be fair.

Seeing his bare chest heave up and down—too similarly to how Este easily made it move when they were alone together—made her go insane. Her eyes stung when she refused to blink, busy staring at Matty’s hand trailing over his crotch. Este wasn’t expecting it to have such a strong effect on her, assuming that either the thousands of people also watching him or the fairly profound purpose of the act would water down the sensuality of it. But fuck, it was hot. She could practically hear the sound of his moans in the back of her ear even though he was metres away.

That first night was difficult enough; having to stand and look as if she wasn’t hot and bothered by what went on in front of her eyes. Watching it over and over, night after night, served even harder.

So over half way through the leg, now in Glasgow, Este couldn’t help herself. She’d been particularly touchy during the day but that wasn’t all that unusual, so Matty still wasn’t expecting her to whisper “Come fuck me after consumption,” in his ear before he went on. She meant business. The sentence replayed in the back of his mind as he strummed at his guitar, internally begging the set to move faster so he could climb through the little telly and flip the place upside down to find Este.

When the time finally arrived and he plonked his bum on the sofa, Matty imagined it was her hand on his skin and slipping past the waistband of his pants. He even discretely gave his nipple a quick squeeze and whined at the sensation. It wasn’t very convincing, feeling the roughness of his hand and how it contrasted to how delicate hers were, but fantasizing about Este wasn’t anything new to him—so he had to snap himself out of it before his arousal began to show.

Matty shook his head and chuckled to himself as he did press up after press up. The power those short 5 words uttered by his girlfriend was unfathomable. She knew it would make him less focused and throw him off his game; but that’s why she did it, and he could tell. Este wanted the upper hand. He considered giving in to it—but today he wanted to toy with her. It was only fair if she was clearly trying to toy with him.

So, right as he stood up after crawling off stage, he grabbed George and the first stage manager in sight.

“Loop the Too Shy intro. I need it to play twice,” Matty instructed.

They looked as confused as ever. “What are you on about?” asked the drummer.

Matty glanced past George and caught sight of Este. Leaning against a random doorway and burning her gaze into his. He didn’t waste any time and bee-lined towards her.

“Just do it. And maybe a warning through my ears at 90 seconds out? Please? I owe you one!” He trailed off, eventually turning fully away from them and jogging to Este with desperation. Before he could leave completely, Matty remembered to grab the small pile of clothes that sat ready for him, taking them with.

Este grinned at the conversation she overheard and at the state of Matty, who suddenly yanked her hand to drag them both into the room she stood in front of. It seemed to be a storage room, cramped full of random stage equipment and dimly lit. He slammed the door behind them.

“You found me.” She commented.

Instead of responding, Matty pulled her in by the back of her neck and kissed her with an open mouth. His new outfit for when he had to re-enter the stage was discarded to the floor. She smiled into him, grabbing his hips so they were flush against hers. Her back thumped onto the back of the door, Matty holding her there as their mouths moved in sync with hungriness.

They broke apart to gasp for air. “The fuck are you doing asking me to fuck you right before I go on?” he intensely whispered, dipping his lips down to her neck. Este panted and clenched her thighs together.

“I didn’t ask you to fuck me, I told you to.”

He continued nipping at her skin, then shoved his leg between Este’s—the top of his thigh rubbing her clit through her pants. She moaned, reaching her hand to grip him over his pants.

Matty shook his head and removed her hand from his crotch. “Uh uh uh. You don’t get to touch me,” he scolded, hearing her giggle in response. “Think it’s funny? Making me have to try and not get hard in front of all those people?”

She nodded.

Warmth grew in Este’s stomach within seconds, already wet beneath her knickers. His thigh kept at it as their lips reconnected and their tongues licked into each other’s mouths, before he reached a hand into the front of her pants, using his fingers against her instead. She moaned loudly, making Matty clamp his other hand over her lips. Even the now muffled noise made blood rush to his cock.

“I bet you always get this wet when you watch me up there,” He rubbed circles on her clit at a dizzying speed.

“I do,” Este whispered behind his hand, choking her words out as she tried to hold in her moans. “There’s no time to faff around. Fuck me, baby, please—“

Matty abruptly turned her around with his arm still wrapped around her and hand still down her knickers. His swollen lips pressed to the side of her jaw.

“Beg for it, then.” he breathily called next to her ear.

Mouth slack and gasping now that Matty’s hand was no longer trapping it, Este’s eyes rolled back into her head as he increased the pressure on her clit and teased further south to her entrance. It was slick with wetness and she clenched with need, whining at how empty she was.

“Fuck me now, Matty. Please, I need more. I need you,”

“So fucking needy. Such a slut for me,” He saw her face twist with at his words. “Think you can take it?”

He bent her over and held her wrists behind her back. With his other hand, Matty took down her trousers—pulling her underwear to one side and revealing her dripping core.

“Yes, I can take it,” she panted, “Use me however you want, please,”

Este looked over her shoulder to see him then free his cock; so hard it looked painful. He gave himself a few pumps before sliding in at an annoyingly slow pace. She gasped at how he filled her up.

“Fuck,” groaned Matty, revelling at the tight feeling around him. “Always so tight.”

He pulled out almost all the way just to shove himself back in at the same speed.

“More, baby,” Este begged, beginning to lean back to meet his sluggish thrusts half way, desperate for a quicker release. Matty listened, suddenly pounding into her relentlessly. He still had her wrists in the grip of his left hand while his right steadied her hips. In complete control, like he wanted.

The new speed and the sound of his hips slapping against hers slipped Este deeper into the trance of pleasure she was buried in. She felt him deep inside of her, grazing all of the right places over and over. Mindlessly, Este clenched around him, craving every inch of his cock and wanting to feel even closer to him.

The action drew a low groan from Matty’s throat and encouraged him to mutter, “You’re perfect, E,” with passion. He stared down at the way he disappeared inside of her and snapped his hips even harder.

Their heads were so hazy that they couldn’t tell if there were minutes until Matty had to be back onstage or if they’d been fucking for far too long. And at that point, neither of them really cared. But the thrill of having only a few thin walls and a bit of stuffy space between the two of them and thousands of other people had them both not lasting very long. The door wasn’t even locked.

Matty finally set her arms free, pulling her upright and sitting her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His chest pressed against her back. One hand found itself wrapped around her throat while the other teased her clit again as he railed into her. Este cried out at the sudden pressure on her sensitive core and leaned her head over to bite on his neck, in attempts to silence herself.

“Keep going and you’ll make me come,” she spluttered through the euphoria.

His bottom lip sat pinned behind his teeth, eyes closed in pleasure. “Good girl.” whispered Matty. He was focused—chasing his high as his girl milked him—wanting the same for her.

Este’s legs began to quiver, knees almost buckling beneath her, but the rush of Matty’s fingers pressing firmly on either side of her throat pushed her over the edge. The ecstasy in her lower belly snapped and she leaned further back in his neck, whimpering his name as she came.

He wasn’t far behind her; only seconds going by before he struggled to sustain the pace and force he’d set for himself, feeling the edge of his climax. The slickness that grew within her cunt as she was coming felt unreal around him.

“Where do you want me, love?” Matty grunted, now holding most of Este’s body weight up with an arm across her lower stomach—overstimulated and in so much pleasure it was painful.

“Inside me. Come inside me,” she pleaded messily, peering over her shoulder at him again. A few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead with the layer of sweat that built there. He breathed with an open mouth and stared back at her, completely fucked out and looking like sex itself.

He listened, thrusting one last time and shooting his cum far into her. Este moaned at the warmth she felt when it happened. “Shit,” Matty said with a shriek.

Their hot and heavy breaths fell into sync with one another as they attempted to catch them, Matty still buried inside her. She grabbed his jaw to turn it and sloppily tangle her lips in his.

And before he could even pull out, he heard the stage manager through his inears, followed by Too Shy’s instrumental.

“90 seconds. Matty stand by, please.”

They froze in panic for a second but quickly realised that stopping was the opposite of what needed to be done. So, he pulled out—though he really didn’t want to—Este hissing at the overload of sensation. She bent back over, knowing the sight of his seed dripping out of her would rile Matty back up.

It did. And he didn’t appreciate her teasing him when he had seconds to get himself stage-ready. Getting hard again would be extremely inconvenient, unfortunately, thought Matty, as he tucked himself back into his boxers and began stripping completely to get into his second outfit.

Watching his white cum flow out of Este did hypnotise him. So the only thought that popped into his foggy post-sex brain was to take his tongue and lick it up.

Este gasped and whimpered once more at the feeling, before Matty turned her around and tugged her jaw open. Then, he forcefully spit it—a combination of his saliva and both of their cum that he’d just cleaned up—onto her tongue.

“Swallow it.” he commanded. She followed his word. “We always taste so good together, don’t you think?”

Slightly stunned, Este nodded her head up and down to agree. He pecked her on the lips, all while doing up the final buttons on his shirt and shrugging on the suit jacket. Then, he slipped out of the door.

“Break a leg,” she joked before it shut behind him.

Matty rolled his eyes with a smile and Este heard his hurried footsteps disappear towards the sea of Scottish fans.

[snowcollector]

More than 300 million children across the globe are victims of online sexual exploitation and abuse each year, research suggests. In what is believed to be the first global estimate of the scale of the crisis, researchers at the University of Edinburgh found that 12.6% of the world’s children have been victims of nonconsensual talking, sharing and exposure to sexual images and video in the past year, equivalent to about 302 million young people. A similar proportion – 12.5% – had been subject to online solicitation, such as unwanted sexual talk that can include sexting, sexual questions and sexual act requests by adults or other youths. Offences can also take the form of “sextortion”, where predators demand money from victims to keep images private, and abuse of AI deepfake technology. The research suggested that the US is a particularly high-risk area. The university’s Childlight initiative – which aims to understand the prevalence of child abuse – includes a new global index, which found that one in nine men in the US (equivalent to almost 14 million) admitted online offending against children at some point. Surveys found 7% of British men, equivalent to 1.8 million, admitted the same. The research also found many men admitted they would seek to commit physical sexual offences against children if they thought it would be kept secret. The chief executive of Childlight, Paul Stanfield, said: “This is on a staggering scale that in the UK alone equates to forming a line of male offenders that could stretch all the way from Glasgow to London – or filling Wembley Stadium 20 times over. “Child abuse material is so prevalent that files are on average reported to watchdog and policing organisations once every second. “This is a global health pandemic that has remained hidden for far too long. It occurs in every country, it’s growing exponentially, and it requires a global response. “We need to act urgently and treat it as a public health issue that can be prevented. Children can’t wait.” Stephen Kavanagh, the executive director of Interpol, said traditional law enforcement approaches were struggling to keep up. “We must do much more together at a global level, including specialist investigator training, better data sharing and equipment to effectively fight this pandemic and the harm it inflicts on millions of young lives around the world,” he said. Grace Tame, a child sexual abuse survivor, who founded the Grace Tame Foundation, said a centralised global research database was essential to safeguarding children.

but sure child abuse isn't "normalized" at all

[eretzyisrael]

A Scottish National Party lawmaker has been stripped of the party whip after he stated that Israel is not committing genocide in the Gaza Strip.

The move by the SNP, which has been harshly critical of Israel’s 10-month war against Hamas, against Glasgow Shettleston parliamentarian John Mason is effective immediately and essentially suspends him from the party. 

The swift action against the Scottish MP erupted amid criticism regarding the meeting of Scotland’s External Affairs Secretary and Israel’s deputy ambassador for a standard diplomatic briefing.

Mason infuriated members of his party by posting on social media after the meeting: “If Israel wanted to commit genocide, they would have killed 10 times as many.”

“To flippantly dismiss the death of more than 40,000 Palestinians is completely unacceptable. There can be no room in the SNP for this kind of intolerance,” a party spokesperson said of Mason’s removal. The figure cited is according to the Hamas-controlled Gaza Health Ministry, which does not distinguish between civilian and combatant casualties. Israel said last week that 17,000 Hamas terrorists have been killed in the fighting since Oct. 7.

The lawmaker said he was “obviously disappointed” by his suspension, but stood his ground on the war.

“My primary desire in relation to Israel and Gaza is that there should be peace talks, negotiations, and eventually peace,” he subsequently posted on Facebook. “Too many lives have already been lost in Israel, Gaza, and beyond and, as I said when I spoke in Parliament, many people feel that Israel has moved from a position of self-defence to seeking revenge.”

“However, I personally do not believe that Israel has tried to commit, has committed, or is committing genocide. They certainly have the ability to kill many more Palestinians than they have done. That is not to say that the loss of life already is not too many,” he added.

“And we should remember that it is Iran and Hamas who have stated that they want Israel wiped off the map … that sounds more like an intention of genocide than anything Israel has said or done.”

Last month, a former Scottish First Minister attracted scrutiny over a government donation to the terror-tainted U.N. Palestinian aid agency UNRWA while his in-laws were trapped in the Gaza Strip. The day after he made the announcement, his in-laws were allowed to leave the Hamas-run territory via the Rafah Crossing to Egypt.