#uk being totally normal

[ladymazzy]

The past few weeks in UK racism have been wild and exhausting. Such an incredible concentration of denial, misrepresentation, whattabouttery and asinine takes. And whilst I'm not especially invested in the Meghan & Harry drama (I'm not a royalist, hate tabloids and I'm also unsurprised that they have problems with a family which serves as an institutional representation of white supremacy, imperialism and colonialism, as well as being fundamentally dysfunctional in the most basic 'fucked up family' way), the way certain people in this country go after them is something

Just recently, a white British man was arrested and charged for an arson attack which killed a Black muslim woman and her two infant children. This man has apparently made and followed racist and islamophobic content on social media, yet the police are mysteriously reluctant to investigate this as a possible hate crime

On top of the ongoing crises with racism in the police ( both in how they police, and as it directly affects Black & Asian police officers), and the NHS, ethnic minorities working in the Fire Service have also spoken about the racism they are subjected to within the service, following the suicide of a Black firefighter Jaden Francois-Esprit.

When Ngozi Fulani made a twitter post about being subjected to the 'where are you really from' experience at Buckingham Palace, the backlash was swift and relentless. Everything from accusing her of lying, accusing her of some kind of entrapment, of bullying a poor defenceless old lady (because Black women are just so mean and aggressive 🙃) questioning why she changed her name and why she was 'dressed like an extra from Black Panther'...

Fulani didn't even mention Susan Hussey by name, nor did she demand she be 'sacked' or anything. The royal household didn't deny it, Hussey immediately stepped down, and has since (finally!) apologised face-to-face with Fulani. And yet Fulani has still been subjected to endless hate and speculation to the point where Sistah Space had to temporarily suspend services because of safety worries

None of this is racist, they say. Britain is super 'tolerant' they say (as if 'tolerance' isn't an incredibly low bar anyway). Even amongst people with left-wing politics, there are *still* people saying 'the real problem is class', as if racism is just an interpersonal irritation rather than a whole structural phenomenon, designed with purposeful intent, and with an ongoing legacy. As if some of us do not experience racism and classism (and sexism, homophobia, ableism, transphobia, ageism...) *at the same time*

And yet... the weirdo racist tabloid journos lost their minds and cried 'that's racist!' when Meghan mocked *herself* for over-curtseying to the Elizabeth II when they first met. Because, apparently, proper curtsies in the presence of royalty is uniquely white culture, and white people have been horribly oppressed for this over the centuries by terrible, mean Black people who simply do not have any conception of what it means to genuflect (sarcasm - just to be clear)

And then a weirdo racist notorious prick of the ages wrote a whole thing fantasising about a ritual humiliation of Meghan Markle, Game of Thrones style, because she's as bad as Cersei Lannister ( a fictional woman who arranged assassinations like I write shopping lists, and who had an incestuous relationship with her twin brother) and Rose West (a *real* woman who committed crimes so vile I'm not going to list because they actually affected people who are also real). And when the prick was called out, he made some half-arsed apology that was basically 'sorry you didn't get my GoT reference'

Wild times

Merry Christmas!

[covetyou]

stars and stripes

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: nipple play, novelty underwear, balls, anxiety, democracy, the pledge of allegiance, friendly brotherly contest, alcohol, prelude to oral sex (m! receiving) word count: 5k summary: Roles are reversed this Fourth of July when you surprise Joel with a little festive treat of your own.

A/N: happy 4th of July to folks in the US and happy general election day to my fellow UK pals! If you haven't exercised your right to vote yet, and you're registered, you have until 10pm BST tonight to get to your polling station - as long as you're in line by 10pm, you'll be able to vote. do dress up Joel proud, and go do a democracy.

I make absolutely no apologies for anything in this fic. not a single thing. especially not that thing. tis the season. happy ballidays, pals!

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As it turned out, Joel knew a guy who knew a guy who could fix your AC, and within two days your house was a safe haven from the burgeoning Texas summer.

Easy as that, apparently. Your desperate attempts to call around HVAC companies the week your AC busted seemed stupid now that it was all a matter of simply knowing a guy.

Not that it was all easy. Letting someone else into your house after everything that had gone on suddenly felt scary, and it took Joel promising you he'd dip from his own job for the afternoon to keep an eye on things for you to feel okay with any of it.

But, even that left an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You'd told him to let himself in, though this time you'd given him a key, and that felt like something. For as many times as he'd broken in, and for as long as you'd left your house open and vulnerable - and, by extension, yourself - handing over your spare keys to Joel for the day felt more vulnerable than you'd ever felt with him wandering your house at unknown hours of the day and night.

It felt like something all over again when you handed them over to him the next week too - there was a jammed drawer he wanted to fix, and he said he could get in to see to it before work one day.

Even when you opened the door to him on the nights he didn't have Sarah - his daughter, you'd learned - it felt like something. Especially knowing that that spare key now sat attached to his own, jingling in his pocket each time he walked into your home, invited.

And the more somethings it felt like, the less you felt like figuring it out.

It continued the same way for weeks. Him moving back and forth the short distance between his home and yours, while you stayed safely cocooned in your own, cool, four walls.

Then, barely one month into this officially unofficial something that you were, it was finally time for you to make that short journey down the street to Joel's.

Being honest, the thought of it had terrified you, and you'd almost backed out multiple times.

Not because it was Joel, or Joel's house - at least, that's what you told yourself - but because a "the whole neighborhood is invited, bring snacks or beer" type of Fourth of July party wasn't the kind of way you'd envisioned your first time in Joel's home. You figured maybe it'd be dinner, or a movie, or a quick fuck against the stairs with Joel's balls trussed up in something. Normal things.

Not loud peopley things.

Still, you readjust your top once more, take the briefest of glances in the mirror, and head out the door anyway, nerves be damned. You can totally handle a Fourth of July BBQ at Joel's house.

You think you can all the way up to Joel's driveway, when the nerves come back with a vengeance and you stand there, feeling sick, listening to the sounds of people and music coming from the backyard.

You try to tell yourself it all makes sense. It's a new place, a place that should mean so much because it's his, but try as you might you can't fight back the panic rising as you think of the very many faces that are going to be in this new place too. Familiar faces, faces you'd seen most days as you went about your life down this street you called home, people you'd shared small talk with and said good morning to almost every day as you left for work.

Then there's this stupid outfit you're wearing. The you from weeks ago chose it the very same day you said yes to Joel's invitation, and the you of today didn't have the energy or inclination to think of anything else. Wear whatever, Joel had said, it's just a casual thing. So, you'd gone for casual.

Braless is casual, right?

Not that that was a specific choice, more a necessity. You'd chucked the third bra on the floor in a huff, cursing your shitty outfit choice and lack of bra to fit it, and instead decided to stick on some nipple pasties and be done with it.

All that's done now, and now here you are, still standing like an idiot in the driveway, closer to Joel's home than you have ever been, psyching yourself up to go inside.

With a deep breath of the dry Texas heat, you head for the open back gate, the soft sound of your shoes on the paving stones so loud in your ears as everything wooshes and fizzes in your head.

It's somehow both better and worse than your expectations.

You're immediately greeted by a sea of recognizable faces, the bottle of wine you forgot you were even holding whisked out of your hand and taken inside before you can even get your first round of hello's in. You don't have much of a chance to be nervous, or self conscious, or any of the things you'd worried about being in the days leading up to being here, because there's just so much of everything around you. Noises, smells, people.

Everything, except for Joel. You've not caught a single look at him since you got here - minutes ago - and you wonder if he's even here and not relaxing back at your place on the couch.

Then you see him. At least, you think it's him. His back is to you, locked into conversation so fierce he hasn't noticed the commotion about your entrance.

You think it's him, but you're also certain you don't know of anyone else who would dress head to toe in red, white, and blue candy stripes. The sight of it makes you forget your own outfit worries as a grin forms on your face, and that familiar rumbling of something in the pit of your stomach comes back all over again.

"Not eyein' the very slightly younger model, are you?" comes a gruff voice that has you twisting rapidly on the spot, the smile barely given chance to fall from your face when you spot the actual, real life Joel standing right there next to you, cold beer in hand.

In your own defence, real life Joel isn't dressed much better than the other Joel stood over the other side of the yard. He's probably dressed worse, actually. He's head to toe in stars, all the way from the novelty headband on his head to the flashing star lights clipped to his shoes. It's gaudy, and camp, and so perfectly Joel that the smile that dipped from your face for all of half a second is back, and you're grinning up at him, that feeling in your belly violently boiling away now that he's right there.

"Oh, him?" you say with a wave of your hand. "Nah. He's like a dollar store version of you."

"Really? I'll be sure to tell Tommy he's Dollar Store Joel from now on. He'll love that. Hey, Tommy!" he calls over the yard, before slipping his free hand behind your back. "C'mon. Let me introduce y'all."

He guides you over, hand never leaving the small of your back, touching you out here in front of all these people as if you are actually officially the kind of something that everyone should know about. And maybe you are.

But then, you're looking into familiar friendly eyes, so similar to the ones you've been staring into and dreaming of since Christmas, and watching this familiar strangers face light up so brightly you briefly wonder if his joy is misplaced until he's wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

"Shit, he weren't lying," says Tommy as he rocks on his feet with you in his arms before releasing and looking down at you. "You are real."

Before Joel can land a firm whack to Tommy's shoulder, Tommy's pulling you in for another hug, telling you how nice it is to finally meet you, because he's heard all about you, dropping in a few choice words about his asshole brother here and there as he chatters to you, and Joel, and even himself.

At some point, whether it's during the fourth hug or the eighteenth, you're not sure, Joel slips off to grab you a drink, leaving you with his bizarrely dressed brother.

"Ain't never seen him smile so much without Sarah around," he says, the moment Joel's out of earshot, giving you a nudge and another fond smile. "Y'know, I think he might like you."

"Mm, I think I might like him too."

Small talk with Tommy is easy - the man's a talker, if you ever met one. He's a charmer too, and if you met him in a bar you might think he'd be coming on to you with the way he so attentively talks to you, only directing his attention elsewhere for the briefest of moments.

"What's with the outfits?" you eventually ask, with a flick to his striped top hat. "Joel never said it was a dress up party."

"Oh it ain't, this is just a family tradition. Dad always used to dress up in dumb shit for the holidays, make us laugh, and it just sorta stuck. 'Course, added in some friendly competition over the years too, and then this," he says with a dramatic sweep down his body, "was born."

"Competition?"

"Mhm. Joel'll tell you, won't you brother?" Tommy says with a wink over your head before ducking sideways to raid the snack table.

"What am I s'posed to tell you?" he says, handing you your drink, letting his fingers linger near yours and stroke a trail of burning heat gently up your arm before falling back to his pocket.

"The competition."

"S'easy. Stars or stripes," Joel points to himself, decked out in stars and then to his brother where he stands loudly chatting to yet more guests in his candy stripes. "You gotta pick. Most votes, wins."

"I've got to pick?"

"'s the rules, darlin'."

"So you want me to pick between you, or some costumed guy I don't know - a practical stranger?" you say, with a glint in your eye, watching Joel's face drop in faux offence.

"You wouldn't."

"Don't underestimate me, Joel. I think you know exactly what I'm capable of."

Your eyes meet in a silent stalemate, the glint in your eye never leaving as Joel bites at his cheek to hold back a laugh. Tommy was right - you do like Joel, some days too much, and moments like right now, you think maybe it's reciprocated, and you like him just the right amount.

Poking him in the chest, finger pressed to the middle of one of the sea of stars decorating his body, you let yourself break first. "Stars, Joel. I pick stars."

With a roll of his eyes, and a kiss pressed lightning quick to the side of your head, Joel's hand winds back around your back.

"Thank fuck for that. Let's get you a votin' card so you can make that official."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

As the evening draws on, you think you've talked to just about everyone in your street several times over, and then some. It also turns out that Joel and Tommy take their little competition very seriously, and always have, if your neighbors are to be believed.

By the time the votes have been counted and Joel in his star spangled outfit is declared the winner, Tommy has sunk to his knees, his hat toppled off in his despair as he hangs his head in shame.

You're still listening to them bicker as you sneak off to use the bathroom, their voices only disappearing when you've slid the patio door shut and taken your first official step into Joel's house.

"The headband swung it."

"The headband is Sarah's, and your massive skull is breakin' it..."

Even through the mess of the party, you can see that this place is distinctly Joel, with hints of a 10 year old girl dotted around the place. From the pictures on the wall to the cushions on the sofa - mostly a rich navy, but one soft pink nestled in with the blue - through to small ornamental carvings on a side table and the drawings stuck on the refrigerator.

You're looking at one - not a masterpiece by any means, but very decent attempt at a bluebonnet - when the pressure inside the house changes again with the slide of the door.

It's Joel, arms laden with bottles, and the headband flopping forward pathetically on his head. "You snuck off quick," he says, dumping the bottles onto the counter. "Get lost findin' the bathroom?"

"Distracted. Never had chance to sneak around your house looking at your shit before," you quip with a smile, trying to get comfortable with the very uncomfortable thing that brought you two together in the first place.

"Then shoes off. Lemme take you upstairs, give you a little tour, and you can use the bathroom up there. Probably in a better state than the one down here now anyway."

He holds your hand in his all the way up the stairs. That something rears its head again, igniting your palm where it meets his, your brain not registering a single word he says as he points to various doors before dragging you through one, into his bedroom.

His lips are on yours immediately - or yours are on his. You can't quite work out who started it, you just know that you're a tangle as your hands roam each other, biting and licking kisses into each others mouths. His hand finds your ass, and you're moaning as he presses you forward, into him, and the soft lump in his pants. You want to grind yourself against him, but the angle isn't right, and a nagging forgotten thing is worming through your brain when Joel pushes your bodies together once more.

Oh. Right. You remember now.

"Joel - mmph - Joel," you say with urgency through his kisses. He pulls back, searching your face with panic and a pinched brow. "I really gotta pee."

With a kiss to your forehead he lets you go, pushing you toward his ensuite. When you exit a few minutes later, he's exactly where you left him, stood with his hands in his pockets, looking sheepish as he possibly ever could.

"I'm glad you came," he says, looking at you and setting that something off roaring through your body again.

"Me too. I... I've had a nice time."

"Just wanted you to know I didn't invite you here just for, y'know," he says, with a gesture to his bed. "Didn't bring you in here for it either. Just, sorta missed you. Not used to not bein' alone with you. It's weird sharin' you."

You don't want to remind him you've barely left each others sides all night. You don't want to draw too much attention to the something, just in case you scare it away.

"Damn. Got nothing for me? Nothing at all?" you joke instead.

"Got nothin'. Nothin' planned anyway," he says with a look around the room, his eyes focussing briefly on a drawer before flicking back to you.

Really, you should be leaving space between you and Joel. Space for the something to flourish, space that is just enough to not magnetize your body to his, smashing yourselves together and turning the nothing into something. What you should do doesn't have the power to stop your feet from slowly pulling you toward him again though. And it doesn't stop you from putting both your hands on his chest when you finally reach him.

"No? Got no magic tricks up your sleeve? I was hoping for a wand or a rabbit or somethin', you do look like you ran away from the circus."

"I'll have you know this shirt is the finest polyester you can find at Party City."

"Mm, sounds sweaty."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"So you're sweaty and gross, and you have nothing to wow me with? I'm starting to wonder why you invited me." Which is a lie. You know why, and so does he, and you're glad for it, even if it still frightens you to think about it too much. You suspect he knows an awful lot more about you than you've told him. He's perceptive like that.

"Maybe I'm retractin' your invite."

"You wouldn't."

"No?"

"What if I've got a little something for you instead, am I still invited now?"

Joel's eyes light up and soften all at once, turning so bright and sparkling you think he might cry. It's not exactly that you've never done anything for him in the ways he has for you. When he mentioned his favorite snack, you got some in the house for nights you spend watching a movie before devolving into fucking on the floor. You bought new lingerie, which only ever stayed on if it was too difficult to get out of, and once or twice he'd caught you wearing the heart shaped butt plug before leaping on you and pounding you into whatever surface was nearest, thumb pressing down on the base and making you see stars.

Still, for all you had done, you never swapped positions in the little game you'd been playing with each other for over seven months. Each time, he was the one who came to you with some silly thing or trick or toy to tease you with, and each time you loved it. You hoped he would love this too.

"You do?"

"Mhm," you say as you put some distance between the two of you again. Space to breath, space to move, space to let the something calm back down into the pit of your stomach and curl in on itself like a cat settling down to sleep.

Your let your fingers glide up your body, gently pulling your skirt for a moment before they coast up your belly and reach your shirt, flirting with the hem before curling around it and tugging, letting your tits jiggle behind the fabric.

With a final soft tug, you peel the fabric up your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out the bottom of your top.

"Holy shit, baby," he says, a whisper of a moan on his lips. His eyes have been glued to you, wide and curious, ever since you suggested you may have something for him. And now, they're darting from your chest to your face then back down, taking in the sight of your covered nipples.

You had made some choices earlier today, in your nervous state. Going braless was only one of them. The pasties too, were another. And then, there was the shape. You has flowers, hearts, circles, straight tape and, finally, stars. It was a no brainer when you'd rifled through the packet for two that matched that white stars were the perfect choice for today. It'd only really occured to you when Joel had worn his own stars, that you were perhaps better matched today than you thought, that maybe you could have your own little game with him for once.

"Told you I was all in on the stars."

"Damn right you are," he says as he approaches, his hands finding their place on your waist, itching to move upward. "They don't hurt?"

"They're just pasties, Joel. They're soft. Feel."

And fuck, does he feel. His hands cup you, gently squeezing the softest part of your breast before letting his thumbs dance across where the pucker of your nipple should be. The sensation is muted, infuriatingly muffled by the feel of the pasties covering you.

"S'good?"

"Imagine I stroked your dick over your pants. It's good but it's not the same."

"Damn," he curses, thumbs still gently rubbing over your nipples, watching them slowly come to life and prickling beneath the coverings. "They come off easy?"

"Like a bandaid."

"Shit."

And you just know what he's thinking, because you're thinking it too. There's no real way you can take them off right now and let Joel have his way with your nipples like you're both desperate for, even if time and the swathe of people downstairs wasn't an issue. You have nothing else to cover up with and the soft breeze combined with the cold drinks and the age of some of the guests here means it's probably not a good idea to go without them.

That doesn't stop Joel from kissing you again though, more restrained than he has any right to be with your tits in his hands. You know from his frustrated groan when you bite at his bottom lip that he's two seconds away from telling everyone the parties over, only to come back up here and continue with a party for just two.

To your surprises, he pulls your top back down. Not before kissing one breast, then the other, then back to the first. You know he wants to sink his face into them, but he doesn't let himself, and he rises from his crouch with a groan and pulls you out of the room.

"Don't show Tommy," Joel whispers to you as you make your way back down the stairs. "He'll say the contest was rigged."

"Damn, I was so hoping to show your brother my nipples."

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Joel's eyes keep flicking to your chest for the rest of the night. More than once he drags you away inside, either upstairs or into the garage, just to ask you to show him one more time. If you weren't covered, your nipples would have been rubbed and pinched raw by his eager fingers by now, just as your lips were swollen by his eager mouth.

By the time it's all over, you're positively exhausted, propping yourself up on the arm of a chair and talking to Tommy as Joel waves off the last of the guests and closes the back gate.

You had barely left his side all night, and if anyone had anything to say about it, you hadn't heard it. Neither had Joel. And Tommy, a clever man when he wanted to be, hadn't made a single joke about it either. All in all, it was as much of a successful day than you could hope for, initial nerves aside.

Tommy, continuing to be a clever man, doesn't put up much of a fight when you offer to be the one to stay behind and help clear up. Of course, he's already gone around and collected most of the trash, and put the leftover food inside, but he relents at your insistence he head home - you do only live down the street after all.

Neither you or Joel get much further with the cleaning. Once trash bags are dumped in the garage and you've both washed up, his hands are back under your top, damp fingers cupping your breasts and pulling you back into him.

"Stay?" he asks, as if there was any other ending to this night, as if Tommy hadn't left precisely for this reason.

You barely agree by the time his mouth is latched onto your neck, drawing unrestrained moans out of you right there in the kitchen now that you're finally alone.

His hands, of course, find their way back up to your top, stroking over the edge of the pasties once more.

"You really like 'em, huh?" you ask as his thumb brushes the edge of one, starting to curl and pull the point of one of the stars.

"Like that we match. Feel like you picked 'em for me," he mumbles into your neck, releasing one breast and tucking his hand into the waistband of your skirt. "Like that I've had somethin' to think about, somethin' to play with, even with all these people here."

Fuck, if you haven't liked that too. Letting him play had been one of the highlights of your night so far. Being manhandled into the garage, giggling and pushing Joel as he clasped his hands together in a plea to please see your tits. The souvenir love bite you'd let him suck into your left breast after dragging you back upstairs for a second time. You'd spent half the night flipping between Joels hands and mouth on your tits, to being dragged back out to socialize. Your pussy had given up trying to regulate itself after the third session of Joel's teasing, and you'd spent the rest of the evening wet and waiting.

This is a fact he finds out now, as he slides his hand down over your mound to cup you over your panties. You both let out the same curse as he presses and wiggles his fingers back and forth over you, rubbing your clit over your underwear. You had hoped to peel the pasties off before you fucked him, giving him full access to your nipples for the first time tonight, but you don't think you're going to make it that far, not now his hand is pulling your panties aside, feeling for the slick wetness between your lips and dragging it up, up, up to swirl around your clit.

Not a second later you're scaling the stairs for what you know will be the final time that day, this time you dragging Joel as you both kick of your shoes and stumble up the steps. You already ache from all the standing, and if you have it your way, your legs are going to be shaking and trembling too much for the rest of the night to possibly be of use to you.

With his door pushed open, left wide now the house is empty, you pull yourself back into him, only for him to slip his still wet finger between your lips, letting you taste yourself before he captures your mouth, licking your taste from your own tongue.

Then, your hands find his chest, that ridiculous shirt, and pull at it, tugging the fabric taught to his body, eager to get it off and tumble into his sheets with him.

You were right about how sweaty he'd be under the shirt when you finally get your fingers on the buttons, working your way down until you can pull it off. He's shining underneath it, the dark hair of his body slicked down as you drag your hands up over his chest, to his shoulders and then down to his belt.

He suddenly stops you, pulling your hands away, pressing kiss after kiss to your mouth as he fumbles with the buckle. In a huff, after a few failed, distracted, attempts, he pushes you away and pulls off his belt before unzipping his pants.

Joel has barely tugged them down his legs when you're staring wide eyed, howling with laughter, staring directly at his cock. Only, this time, it stares back.

At least, the bald eagle on the front of his boxers does.

"What are those?"

"Nothin'," Joel says, covering himself and trying to tug his boxers over his erection with one hand still trying to pull off his pants. Grabbing his hands, you stop him, pleading as you tug them away from his crotch.

"Show me."

"Look, s'nothin. Just another stupid thing Tommy got me and I thought it'd be funny but..."

"Sure looks like you got somethin' there for me. All this time you were sayin nothin'. Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now. C'mon. Please."

You pout, trying desperately to get him to give in when you have an idea and you're tugging your top off over your head and throwing it to the side, brandishing your star covered nipples to him once more.

"Pretty please," you say with a small shimmy, and Joel's hand immediately falls away, coming up instead to cover his eyes with a sigh.

It's a sight to behold. Really, it is. The eagle is staring back at you once again, still bolstered by Joel's solid length and the heft of his balls behind it. What you hadn't noticed before is it's sitting on a canvas of United States flag, stars and stripes covering his thighs, his hips, his ass.

"Oh wow. Joel those are -" you cough out a laugh "- those are amazing."

He's rolling his eyes. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his posture. "Yeah, real funny, I know."

"No, I like them. Very festive. And y'know what," you say, cupping his cock right over the eagle print of his boxers as you clear your throat. "I pledge allegiance -"

"No, don't you d-"

"- to these balls -"

"Stop."

"- and the cock they sit under -"

"Oh my god," he says, fighting through a laugh, your fingers squeezing and massaging as you pledge yourself, whole heartedly, to the appendage in your hand.

" - one - uh, cock and balls? Is there even a collective word for cock and balls? - under Joel -"

"It's just gettin' worse."

"- definitely indivisible, no divisible balls here - "

"You're killin' me."

"- say it with me now - with liberty and justice for balls."

You try to keep a straight face as you finish. Really you do. But as Joel's whole body shakes and ripples, his balls jiggling in your hand as laughter wracks through him, you can't help but fall into him, letting yourself be propped up by him as you crumple in on yourself in delight.

"You callin' my balls Liberty and Justice now?" Joel finally says through a laugh.

You slide a finger up the leg of his boxers, pulling gently on them as you stare down at the flag adorning his ass and balls.

"Yep. You're Star Spangled Joel with your side kicks, Liberty and Justice."

You give his balls a little squeeze again as you name them.

"Now that you pledged your allegiance, you gonna keep yappin' or you gonna prove it?"

But it's too late, because you're already sinking to your knees, right there in his bedroom, a place you both know you're going to wake up in the morning, wrapped in each other as the sunlight peeks through the curtains.

"Just try to stop me."

next part

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[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Boyfriend Era is a Go

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - I have to say it, the heist stuff is stupid and all the sidekicks are idiots to the point of annoyance. But Yin and War are truly stellar at these parts. And in general in these roles. Can’t knock 'em. It’s been a year of some very good kisses and this has to have been the best. So this show is top of the standings this week for that kiss alone. Like srs boys? I mean to say, BOYS! How dare. Breaking the internet like that.

Honestly, let's be clear, these two have had killer chemistry since the En of Love and we all expected great things. And now, here we sit, suffering great things from these kings. Thank you, Sirs, may we have another?

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 8 of 15 - I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here. The Per Win story arc never interested me in 2014 and I’m not enjoying it now either. But Mick and Ohm are better in 2024. Nong Mick is a standout character, and a brilliant glow up in this version and he’s a confident little shit (affectionate). The mains are good too, but Phun and Noh always were great characters, and these actors are quite good. Possibly better than the original. 

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 10 of 12 - More bf era delightful diabetes. They are the best boyfriends and the cutest family in the entire world. No exceptions. Next week is definitely doom tho. 

Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Talk about making consent and communication sexy! *fans self* Whoah! That was unexpectedly great. The blatancy of the lust in this one was fun too. And the general casual switch nature of the relationship = delightful.

I like the little acting course we're getting from these tw. They are both quite good. I’m not sure I really enjoy the stories that they’re telling, but I do like how they are telling them.

Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 6 of 16 - Hill is the premier torch carrier of this year. My goodness. He sure nursed that crush. While I really like this main couple, I’m happy to have some of the others start to creep into the narrative at this juncture. Alone HillTer are a bit intentionally miscommunicative and saccharine. But the screen-time distribution amongst couples seems a little strange. That said, couple 2? No thank you. I really don't like North as a character at all. I find him incredibly unappealing. Ordinarily I'd be on his side because....... blackmail trope renders Johan automatically a complete arse. But at least this is 2 unlikable characters being jerks to each other?

Perfect 10 Liners (Thai Sun YouTube?) ep 2 of 24 - Say it with me Thailand: negging is NOT romantic. Frankly, Arc is just an asshole and a bully with anger issues. But…… Yay cute sides! PondSand they funny. (Book, to me = never very funny. I don’t think comedy is his bailiwick. Look, comedy is HARD ya’ll and usually not in that way.) 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 1 of 11 - They’re doing some interesting stuff with the framing (both filming style and narrative) that makes this extremely old-fashioned feeling (like Takumi-kun level). I keep saying that this year, but it feels like BL is doing a lot of rediscovering its roots right now. This one even had a goldfish. And abuse. (The two, oddly, often go hand-in-hand in JBL ) And overall...... it’s a bit weird. Which I don’t mind from Japan. Japanese BL can get weird in a good way. Oh I like it. Bully meats smart loaner, total opposites attract, both are lonely and broken and NEED each other, and all that.

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 4 of 13 - Oh dear, our poor little rich boy is very broken indeed. The sides are utterly ridiculous.

My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 6 of 7 - I don’t normally like a love triangle, but I kind of like this one since it gave our uke a bit more depth and agency. And charm, quite frankly. So far he’s been a very dower character.

Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 9-10 of 12 - Okay boyfriend era is a go. Goodness but they sure are adorable. 

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 7 of ? - The slow burn is really very slow. To the point of frustration. But I'm still enjoying the show, just not as much as I was.

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 8 of 10 eps - Even Japan is going through a bf era rn I see. How unusual.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 2 of 10 - I’m slightly less annoyed by this one than the original (but I was VERY annoyed by that). I think mame is being tempered by a few things:

There’s so much less time spent on the back-and-forth, because this is a much shorter show, so I have less time to be frustrated by it and the utter uselessness of 75% of these characters.

Also, there's that innate Japanese awkwardness of portrayal & social interaction, which makes the unpleasantness of the characters' behavior and touch more understandable.

This, in turn, is married to the natural kink factor of JBL.

There’s a clearer Dom sub from the get go with this version, makes the blackmailing a little bit more tolerable because it's clearly Play. (negotiated or not) Simply put, daddy wants his brat to beg. And honestly? So say we all.

On a completely different note, the wardrobe for this show is terrible. Like truly bad BAD.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun iQIYI) eps 3-4 - Well I guess that’s that disability dealt with. Meanwhile, competitive bullying art students? I am very amused. Zoo date was cute. This is unquestionably a BL (I’m even more scared now). Still, the gay boys dealing with the straight dude’s crush was truly hilarious. So much "our gay drama doesn’t have time for your het bullshit." Classy move, I smell some Taiwan in this show.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) eps 4-8 end - I was reliably informed this has an HFN end so I decided to watch. Noble and self sacrificing with both of them taking the blame.

My thoughts are...... mixed.

High school student Do Hoe lives with his brutal father who runs a Taekwondo gym. When cheerful Ju Young arrives to train, they fall in love. An unexpected incident forces them apart, they reunite over a decade years later. Essentially this is a brilliant narrative about finding love at the worst possible time, surviving chronic abuse, and the way we process mental, emotional, and physical trauma overtime. Yes it’s also a romance, but that’s not primarily what this story is actually about. I can recognize its genius, but this type of narrative is not for me. I’m reminded of bittersweet painful shows like To My Star 2, or The On1y One, or even Not Me. Is this BL tangential or is it some other genre entirely? Am I questioning my own taste because I did not like its content, or because I do not like its genre? And if it’s not BL should I even render judgment? I think I have to lean into the way I approached some of those other shows, which is to say: it is not for me but I recognize that it is of an extremely high-quality that is certainly for someone else.

Recommended, but only if you like masochistic cinema. Under those circumstances 9/10

(but know that if i were rating for my personal taste? 7/10 I’m never re-watching this, and there is a small part of me that wishes I never had) 

It's airing but......

Love for Loves Sake got some kind of special supposed to air 11/9. Not sure what, why, or where. Only the rumor that it...... is. I'll believe it when I see it...... literally.

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) 10 eps - I've been reliably told not to bother, so I won't.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I am weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show is making it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YouTube) 10 eps - This is a little too low production value even for me. And just very very odd. DNF

In case you missed it

Uncle Unknown finished its run on YT. Censored Chinese BL with paralytically bad production levels. But certainly BL. Boys reunite after a break up only to discover one of them is the step-Uncle of the other. Much to my own shock and surprise I watched all 12 episodes of this. Fortunately, each episode is about 5 minutes long. Under those circumstances is it worth it? Maybe. It’s bad. But not offensive. So that's a win. And you know me, I love a weird take on the stepbrother’s trope and incest taboos. 5/20 watch it only if you have nothing better to do

Next Week Looks Like This:

Gosh there's a lot on right now.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

November BL:

11/15 Caged Again (Thai Fri Gaga) 10 eps - Penguin escapes zoo by turning into a human. Gets trapped again and a panther falls in love with him.

11/17 Your Sky (Thai Sun iQIYI) 12 eps - A naive freshman and the campus’s popular senior agree to pretend to be a couple - but their fake deal begins to generate real feelings.

11/20 Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai Weds YT) ?? eps - Criminals who meet in prison fall in love

11/20 The Heart Killers (Thai Weds YT iQIYI) 12 eps - Jojo directs FirstKhao & JoongDunk in an action romcom about assassin brothers (Khao & Joong) who meet a tattoo artist ex-booster (First) and a mechanic (Dunk). I'm highly amused that Joong plays the older brother to Khao and that we have a take on the Taming of the ShrewBL. I like that everyone is morally gray. This has all GMMTV's best chemistry in one BL and some fresh concepts that I've only seen tackled in m/m romance novels (check out Amy Lane's Racing for the Sun, thank me later). I'm excited. My only quibble is Jojo, I like his style but his characters can get unreliably messy so…... this gonna be interesting.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

The insane level of his babygirl heart eyes.

Just, have mercy.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[ceilidhtransing]

In light of recent and ongoing UK fuckery, I am so sick and tired of the idea that extremely transphobic things “aren't really transphobic” because they are coming from people who “probably mean well” and “don't hate trans people”.

Yeah, because bigotry can only be perpetrated by people who are actively, consciously hateful, sitting in their villainous lairs and dreaming up new innovative ways to be evil. (Obvious sarcasm.)

Transphobia is not just “when you actively and knowingly hate trans people”. Transphobia is also

A paternalistic attitude that says that trans people can't really be trusted to know themselves or what they want and so need to be gatekept from healthcare by cis “experts”

A refusal to listen to and take into account trans expertise; hell, a denial that trans expertise even exists

The idea that while some trans people existing in society is fine, ideally we should be limiting that number as much as we can

The idea that transition - social or physical or both - should only ever be a last resort after all other “possible avenues” have been explored, because being trans is fundamentally an undesirable inferior state and ideally we should be protecting people from transition for their own good

An attempt to clamp down on the use of “dangerous unregulated private healthcare” and an insistence on “safety” and on “doing things the right way” that manifests in reality as a denial of care because no viable alternatives to such “dangerous” options are actually provided

A carving out of exceptions to the basic principle of bodily autonomy whenever a body happens to belong to a trans person

A total dismissal of the concept of harm reduction when it comes to trans people; the only harm reduction that really matters is making sure no cis person accidentally does anything trans, and that end should be doggedly pursued no matter how many trans people it will harm along the way

An expectation of ludicrously unattainable standards of evidence and success for any healthcare involving trans people, that you would never demand of “normal” healthcare - a >15% regret rate for some common surgery is fine; a <1% regret rate for something trans-related is a national scandal that calls for an immediate inquiry into care standards

The refusal to change policies and approaches that have been demonstrated time and time again to harm trans people, because you view the status quo of cis authority over trans bodies as more important than the survival of the people those bodies belong to

The demand that cis people as individuals, and cis society at large, deserve to have their opinions taken into account regarding how a trans person chooses to live and what they choose to do to their body, and that trans freedom should hinge on cis approval

An assumption that segregation between “normal healthcare” and “trans healthcare” is just natural and necessary, even when it is literally the same procedure or treatment

The welcoming of openly trans-hostile voices into conversations about trans issues to the exclusion of actual trans people, because “it's really important that all views are aired” (apart from the views of trans people, obviously)

The attitude that, no matter how ignorant of, detached from, irrelevant to, and unwilling to learn of trans people's lives you are, your personal consent and satisfaction must be obtained before any progress around trans equality can be made, and trans people must only move at the pace of your willingness to understand and get on board

An insistence on endlessly rehashing the same basic points again and again and preventing any forward movement by repeatedly dragging the conversation back to square one, forcing trans people and their allies to debunk the same nonsense again and again and defend the same well-proven, well-established truths again and again

The denial that transphobia even exists or is a significant problem that needs to be addressed - it's not bigotry, it's just conflicting views! After all, gender identity is a polarising issue!

and so much more besides. Transphobia is a social system, a way of thinking, a set of baked-in assumptions, an institutionalised bias. Conscious, active “hatred” is not a prerequisite for anything listed above, but they are all transphobia, and at the root of all of them is a casual indifference to trans survival, a prioritisation of cis comfort and cis interests over trans lives, and an instinctive valuing of cis existence over trans existence. A lot of cis people don't even recognise these things as transphobia because they themselves hold those casual prejudices and therefore see the extensions of them as natural.

And at this point, I don't care about “good intentions”. These things are all manifestations of the insidious and deeply evil web of transphobia that prevents trans people from living full lives as equal participants in society. People who keep holding these attitudes and doing these things aren't “basically well-intentioned”; they're just bigots who don't know or care that they're bigots.

Transphobia is not just “when some hateful fanatic says they want all trans people dead”. Transphobia is all around us. Start seeing it.

[smehur]

Drarry fic recs #5

oxygen [Fic & Art] by @maesterchill

Draco doesn’t smoke. Except when he needs to breathe.

A wonderfully atmospheric rendering of the moment when the tentative friendship hesitantly built through years of unplanned meetings gently turns into a deeper, romantic intimacy. Featuring a lovely, lonely Draco and an incredibly evocative description of the magic hiding in cigarette smoke. 10/10 would read again.

AITA for being "obsessed" with my childhood nemesis? by @rainstormradish

Alrakis • I [24M] attended a small boarding school in the UK. There was a boy in my year, a couple of months younger than me, and he became my nemesis after we developed an intense rivalry. My friend [25F] told me recently that our dynamic was "weird back then" and that "it’s even weirder" that I still think about him today. She argued that I talk about him all the time, but I believe the amount I talk about him is reasonable. AITA? prongymcprongface • i completely get what you mean. i had a nemesis (like a school one, separate to my other nemesis) and we had a dynamic super similar to what you are describing. having a nemesis is a very cool and normal thing dw about it. NTA In which Draco asks the internet if he's being reasonable. Only one commenter is sympathetic. They start talking.

This was so much fun to read, I don't even. A brilliant concept, flawless execution, and bonus points for Draco's online name. ✨👌

For Lack of Wanting by @fluxweeed

Over the last ten years, I’ve worked hard to become a better person. I hate being reminded of who I used to be. But Harry likes it when I’m mean.

I loved this even though it broke my heart. Perhaps because (like with other fics that successfully broke my heart), I could totally see it: a Harry who grows into his fame, a Harry who doesn't look under the surface of things unless forced, a Harry who never spared a serious thought about Draco after the war. And a Draco desperate enough to throw everything away for him anyway. Beautifully crafted and utterly devastating.

By the Grace by @letteredlettered

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Oh, boy. This fic. It left a mark on me. It's the second most literary fic I've read to date (topmost being Running on Air by eleventy7), and by far the most ambitious one. That summary doesn't begin to do it justice. It's a story about the initiative to reveal the wizarding world to the Muggles; the political struggles of those for and against it, including activism, media manipulation, government corruption, and even terrorism; and Harry and Draco in the midst of it all. I also suspect it's brimming with commentary on real life UK politics, but I'm too distant from those topics myself to say more. It is for this ambition, and for the the meticulous creation of a detailed post-war political landscape and the actors trying to shape it, that I wholeheartedly applaud and recommend this fic. Anyone looking for an adult, thought-provoking, political story perfectly set within the Harry Potter world will have an absolute blast with it.

But I can't say I enjoyed it. I picked it up not for the politics, but for the romance. And the romance, while definitely an omnipresent element, was kept so deep in the background, that the reading was an exercise in frustration almost to the very end. This was done purposely, with incredible consistency and discipline, and to great effect, in order to craft the slowest of slow burns. But I, like a kid bored with the things on the news, skimmed through the lot of political discussions (which are what gives the story such a strong literary vibe), constantly looking for the individual, the personal, the relatable; constantly hoping for the feels. And when they came to the fore at last, it was a bit too little, too late.

As much as I admire its ambition and craftsmanship, this is not a story I would read again. But I will never, ever forget it.

Nice Things by aideomai

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Possibly the softest, gentlest, most soothing story I've read in this fandom so far. Something to come back to when my spirits need a lift. There's a scene (spoiler: it asks and answers the question, "are you fucking with me?") that I read three or four times in a row, smiling wider and wider on each go, and another (someone returning after holidays) that i had to revisit at least twice. This doesn't happen often in my reading! I confess I wished for a more detailed exploration of the developing intimacy (read: smut), but I respect the author's decisions; they left me with a heart full of warmth and a head full of dreams.

Many thanks to the wonderful authors in this fandom for sharing their stories, and to all the readers who help spread the word. ❤️

[inchidentally]

went truly unhinged and wrote an entire fic summary of mafia!carcar @__@ special thanks to the good ppl over at the carcar discord <3

as usual I worked google's p*ssy tired to put together the details so pls ignore/handwave anything erroneous

Okay, so for regional specifications let’s say that Carlos has worked for years to be vouched for in the mafia. He’s actually a spy and in an extremely dangerous position - he was plucked from law school in Spain to be trained up in the intelligence agency and was assigned to Sicily due to his fluency in Italian. So even though he’s only 26, he’s already highly skilled and has been living and working full-time as a secret agent and translator - as well as liaison for the mafia - in Sicily for years already.

Oscar is fresh off his A-levels and touring Italy with lofty dreams of becoming a race engineer for Ferrari but assuming he’ll end up back in the UK in some bland office where he’ll hope to make enough money to go to F1 races - and maybe one day take his rightful place on that pit wall.

Palermo is at the very end of his trip before he flies back to London and he books a tour of the Norman Palace. He’s enjoying the fusion of cultures in the art and architecture, totally unaware that his name had been noticed by one of the palace’s administration when he’d bought the ticket a week before. An untraceable number of emails and messages had brought his existence to the attention of mafiosi who had until that moment assumed that particular royal line had died out. 

They immediately scour what little exists of Oscar in the public domain and the even less available through government authorities (the boy is barely out of childhood and has done nothing of note except leaving his homeland to attend school in the UK and hasn’t even gotten so much as a speeding ticket). His social media however reveals a hunch that young Oscar is not unaffected by handsome men, possibly with a penchant for Spanish men in particular, and that he is an ardent Ferrari fanboy. A hastily put-together plot to snare the boy into the mafia by establishing him in his rightful royal position has all the promise of strengthening the mafia control of the region. 

Meanwhile, many consiglieri have long been suspicious of Carlos and see this as an opportunity for him to commit his oath for good - or to see him and the Oscar boy easily disposed of if the Spaniard was discovered to be a rat. They will install Carlos as a translator for Ferrari and he will then claim that he is also on holiday in Palermo when he “bumps into” Oscar at the palace. As they are marveling at the Palatine Chapel’s interior and Carlos is using Ferrari and himself to work every charm at his disposal, a royal scholar with ties to the mafia will approach and inform them of his suspicion that Oscar is of royal descent. He will then ask them back to the University of Palermo to confirm his suspicions (which had of course already been confirmed). By that point, Oscar will have been successfully wooed by both Carlos and the promise of taking his rightful place as a prince, so that the mafia can insinuate themselves into his life and eventually his reign.

Only Carlos’ training can prevent his dismay from being revealed to his bosses as the plan is described to him, but he’s horrified at dragging some poor, unwitting kid into all the danger and ruthlessness of organized crime. He decides to defy his bosses back at the intelligence agency and play the long game of making Oscar his husband and strategizing at every turn to keep the boy alive and hopefully at some point extricate him back to his normal life - or at least into a witness protection program. Anything else would certainly risk Oscar’s life and even if Carlos hadn’t become fond of the kid from a distance, he still wouldn’t sacrifice him for a shorter route to cutting off an entire arm of organized crime.

The plan proceeds as expected, with Oscar dazzled and blushing over Carlos’ attentions and the royal scholar having approached them. It all suddenly goes awry when an overzealous nephew of a mafiosi - fresh off a 12-hour drug bender - infiltrates operations, taking Oscar hostage in the chapel and insisting that the government immediately recognize Oscar as royalty and that the church marry them there in the chapel. He then turns the gun to dispatch an unarmed Carlos, only to be knocked unconscious by Oscar wielding an antique censer. 

The royal scholar - Andrea Stella - is a good man who now speaks urgently to Carlos in a peculiar coded language (they both have on wires) informing him that he knows of the mafia’s plans and that he too wants to see Oscar kept safe. Oscar surprises them by not only understanding the code but speaking it back - albeit brokenly - to them. The code is known only within the Ferrari elite and sounds identical to everyday Italian but with a sequenced pattern that carries a second meaning to every other word, something that amateur cryptography genius Oscar picks up on remarkably quickly.

Which is how Oscar learns that his claim to royal status is fully valid, his entanglement with the mafia is very real, but worst of all is that Carlos’ romantic interest in him was all a lie (or so he assumes).

The police and media attention that the hostage situation attracts results in the mafia’s plans proceeding as expected, except for all three men pivotal to their machinations being in cahoots to foil them. Oscar is granted status as a prince but without anointing or coronation by the church due to him taking Carlos for a husband. They are installed in a part of the palace now closed off to the public and begin their work ingratiating Oscar with said public and even winning them over to the idea of him being married to another man (Carlos not being Italian ends up being the biggest hurdle for them to get over). Oscar’s youth, beauty, shyness and sweet giggle work unexpected wonders, as does the promise of a return to all the regal romance of a pre-unified Italy while not actually returning to those times politically. 

Carlos and Oscar have a tense private relationship because Oscar is nursing a wounded heart as well as a stubborn attraction and love for Carlos - while Carlos feels ashamed of having tried to seduce Oscar for duplicitous purposes and is also struggling with an intense attraction and growing affection for him. Andrea is the architect of their whole counter-strategy and is both the heart and the brains: the brains because he has lain in wait for decades for the right opportunity to destroy the mafia’s power, but also the heart because he sees Oscar as a son and can also see the misunderstandings going on between Oscar and Carlos.

Oscar is a complete surprise package in having an iron-clad poker face and an uncanny ability to remain calm even as his life is turned upside down that rivals seasoned operatives. He even manages to dupe his own family when they visit for the wedding. When Carlos asks how he can so easily lie to them about it all, Oscar levels him with “I could do anything just to keep them safe.” To which Carlos replies that he knows what Oscar means and raises Oscar’s hand to kiss over the ring he now wears as prince. Then he kisses Oscar at one of the highest points of the palace with Mount Etna visible in the distance.

They begin an all-consuming sexual affair that they both privately claim is beneficial to confirming their relationship to the mafia while conveniently remaining in denial of their real feelings. Carlos pours all of his into kissing every inch of Oscar’s pale skin until he’s pink all over, and Oscar puts all his aching heart into taking Carlos down his throat just out of view of the public or forcing Carlos to handle meetings while Oscar is crouched between his ankles. A few lowly messengers of the mafiosi bring back stories of hearing the prince’s cries punctuated with the banging of furniture against palace walls. Carlos can’t keep his hands off his pretty husband either in public or private conclave with “officials” who are really mafiosi under different titles. 

Meanwhile, Oscar is still presumed by the mafia to be none the wiser about the criminal element of his reign and does such sleek work with his angelic face and adorably unassuming attitude that any lingering discussion of dispatching him is immediately shut down.

Which makes it all the more shocking four years later when a sudden mass assassination frames half the criminal element for the death of the other half and throws the whole of the syndicate in chaos that dissolves their control entirely. The ensuing months see Oscar, Carlos and Andrea sequestered - along with their court - inside the palace which is shut to the public amid fears of another hostage situation, while arrests and investigations take place. 

Tensions across the city are high in the wake of the ensuing widely publicized trials and Oscar insists that a public appearance from him outside the palace would reassure and distract the public - and that it would solidify his position as more than seemingly ceremonial. The palace officials agree to the plan but as they are deciding on the security detail, Carlos realizes his presence alongside Oscar has not been mentioned. 

Later that night in their bedchamber, Carlos raises his concern and states that he will be accompanying his husband during his appearance. Oscar attempts to shut him down by stating that Carlos would only represent a greater threat by seeming to taunt the mafia and encourage retribution. 

They argue until Oscar calmly pulls rank, to which Carlos responds by kissing him fiercely and forcing him onto the bed. They desperately make love and fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

The next morning, Carlos awakens in their room alone and with the sun at a suspicious slant through the windows. He realizes Oscar has stolen Carlos’ phone from its usual place by the bed to ensure that he slept in - clearly hoping Carlos would sleep through Oscar’s public appearance entirely. He realizes the little beast had baited him into fucking him so thoroughly that Carlos was exhausted and woke late.

He pulls on clothes and tears down the stairs to the courtyard with just enough time to compose himself and stand beside one of the guards. Oscar is stood out in front with the selected media in a semi-circle and an enormous crowd at barriers set further out, many of whom were calling out affection and support for their prince. He does not see that Carlos has joined them and proceeds with his speech.

Carlos spots the gun at the same time as the guard next to him, but it is aimed at Oscar and not himself. 

As Etna smokes and rumbles in what will be called a mild yet deadly eruption in the distance, two shots are fired after Carlos and the guard wrap their bodies around Oscar and force him to safety. The remaining guards - and a few members of the public - detain the gunman (none too gently) and Carlos and Oscar are bundled back to their rooms and the guards take up position outside.

Inside their bedchamber, Oscar frantically paws at Carlos, wildly suspecting that he’s been shot and doesn’t realize it. He tugs Carlos’ jacket and shirt off and gives a heartbreaking cry of relief when he doesn’t see a single mark on his husband’s body.

Oscar breaks down at last, releasing four years of stress and anxiety in a gust of tears and collapsing in Carlos’ arms. He pours out how he had contrived the mass assassination plan mere months after his life was altered forever in the Palatine Chapel - how he brought Andrea into it to help him with things like the details and movements of mafia members, members who would be willing to work against the family and the risk to innocents, even down to developing a seemingly arbitrary fascination with volcanology so that he could be made aware of Etna’s activity far enough in advance to take the admittedly wild final gambit of disposing the remaining members by having them conveniently perish in Etna’s next eruption. He realized that while conspiring half the local mafia against the larger organization would result in a certain amount of mutually assured destruction, as well as concealing forever Oscar’s role in it, he would have some stragglers to deal with who could regroup in retribution. A suggestion was therefore sent down via Oscar’s court officials to the police loyal to the palace, and then to remaining criminals-at-large (also those with the bloodiest histories in the mafia) of escaping arrest by scaling the crater during a period of high activity and therefore remaining undetected by officials, guides and the public. Their treacherous expedition was promised to take them to the other side of the volcano and then to the coast where boats and new identities would take them from their troubles. 

Oscar had reasoned that if Etna hadn’t taken them then their desire for escaping arrest would scatter them and effectively extinguish their power hopefully forever. Andrea had marveled at Oscar’s command over strategizing the whole plan mostly by himself and said that Ferrari would mourn missing out on hiring him if they knew what he was capable of.

Carlos cradles Oscar on the carpet, kissing his sweat-cold brow and begging to know why Oscar didn’t include Carlos in the plan? Does he still not trust him after all this time? Because if so then he wishes the bullet had found him and put an end to playing husband to the man he loves but who will never love him in return.

Oscar looks up into his eyes with a face full of wonder and brings a hand up to lovingly stroke Carlos’ cheek. Because he kept Carlos out of it precisely so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid like sacrifice himself and ruin Oscar’s hopes that when his plan was finished, perhaps they could start over and he could make Carlos love him the way he loves Carlos.

For the first time, they kiss knowing their love is mutual. And while they realize their positions will always involve some element of danger and their lives will never be “normal”, they admit that they’d never choose any other life if it meant not being together.

ENDITO!

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you know much about historical cuisine? Saw yet another anime with friends and they went the whole 'modern food always tastes better' bit. I feel tired of the trope and am wondering how different historical cuisine would taste compared to modern times. So anything you happen to know as a historian would be cool to know!

That varies MASSIVELY based on time and location. Like. Much more than fashion does, even, I'd imagine (in a given sub-region- I can talk about Mainstream European and Euro-American Fashion of the 19th CenturyTM but the food was so different in different countries that were dressing the same, if that makes sense? just as an example).

Food is often more globalized in a lot of places nowadays, so the characters might have more diversity of flavors from the regional norm than they're used to. But this could be a good or a bad thing- a woman from 17th-century Japan might love pizza and much sweeter Western pastries, or she might absolutely hate them. Which is not to say regional cuisines haven't evolved, too- a museum here in Boston used to have tastings of 18th-century-style hot chocolate, and it was very different from the modern sort. But that's the largest blanket difference across the globe that I can think of, food-wise.

Not sure what anime this was, so it could have been Japan-specific, but I feel like this gets applied the most to the 19th-mid 20th century UK and United States. The whole Captain America line about "food's better; we used to boil everything," for example, and the general belief that everything was bland mush in those areas until the 1950s and then it was incomprehensible Jell-O mold horrors until approximately the 1980s. And of course, none of that's true- there were plenty of dishes that used spices and different cooking methods, many of which are still popular today. See also: Jonathan Harker, a Normal 1890s Englishman, getting so rhapsodical about paprikahendl that he simply must have the recipe for his fiancee to make. There also WERE bland mushes and fluorescent nightmares, but there's less than ideal food today, as well.

(Note that I'm much less confident talking about the whole English StodgeTM thing as we get into the 20th century. That is outside my history wheelhouse and there's a lot of different stuff embroiled in it relating to class and such that I don't want to talk out my ass about. All I know is that I've seen plenty of recipes from as late as the end of the 19th century, from England and some from urban Scotland if I recall correctly, that made ample use of spices. Nutmeg, mustard, black pepper, rosemary, caraway, and cayenne pepper were especially popular (not all together obviously). There was a belief among the middle and upper classes that strong flavors of garlic and onion were distasteful to ladies, but the fact that cookbooks and such feel the need to mention it implies that those elements WERE being used in cooking generally, in the UK, at that time. So wherever the idea that All British Food Is Beige And Tasteless came from, it wasn't mainstream late Victorian cooking for adults as far as I can tell)

(They gave kids a fair amount of the beige and tasteless because they believed their digestive systems couldn't handle strongly-flavored- okay now I'm getting off topic. Read Ruth Goodman's "How To Be A Victorian." Anyway!)

tl;dr- The answer to "is modern food better?" is "that's literally impossible to answer as a blanket statement, since it's massively dependent on the character's original time, place, social status, and personal taste- and where they end up in the present, of course."

Now, I do agree that the trope is annoying the same way every single princess being totally shocked and appalled when her marriage is arranged gets annoying- not because it can't be true based on history and human behavior, but because fiction treats it as some kind of universal precept. Mix it up a little sometimes! Have a Regency character who comes to the present, finds out that her favorite local cheese isn't being made anymore, and loses her entire mind!

[dravenscroft]

So my wife and I are working on a long fic that's a Terror modern AU set in a secondary school. My wife is a teacher and has experienced The Horrors of crappy schools being taken over by academy trusts and becoming weirdly corporate firsthand. We're like 50k into it and it'll probably be like 60k? I think? Anyway we're uploading it on my Ao3 soon but here's a brief rundown of some of the highlights:

Crozier is the new joint head of school, he's been moved there against his will to work alongside Fitzjames, the 'Head of Data', which Crozier thinks isn't a real job.

Franklin is the Executive Head but he's NEVER at the school, he's always busy at head office and has no idea what chaos goes down.

Fitzjames used to be a drama teacher until he got promoted up. He hasn't taught in years and so Crozier has zero respect for him...at first.

Little is the exhausted head of English and he is regularly being verbally abused by the children. He is having a Bad Time.

Hodgson is the music teacher. Irving is the art teacher.

Collins is the maths teacher...he has had a sniffle since the start of the year...he is maybe over medicating with Lemsip and cough medicine in an effort to keep coming to work.

Goodsir is the bright-eyed NQT biology teacher. He is still full of wonder and hope. Oh, to see the UK education system 'with eyes as an NQT...'

Stanley is the head of science. He is not full of wonder and hope. Obviously.

Blanky is the geography teacher who has been there since forever and doesn't take any shit. He's beloved by the kids but they also rightly fear him because he will tell them what for if they misbehave. He also has NO concept of professional corporate speak in emails. He will tell it like it is.

...Oh yeah, there's emails in there too. It's partly epistolary.

Jopson is the highly competent office worker for the school reception. He WILL find a way to schedule the unscheduleable, he WILL handle any difficult parent that comes his way, and he WILL answer every email in a timely fashion.

He works alongside Billy of course, who doesn't want to be there, except maybe for the gossip.

Bridgens takes on the work of several as is normal in a terrible school...he's librarian, and the first-aider, and a TA, along with his husband Peglar who is also a TA.

Tozer is the disillusioned P.E teacher who USED to enjoy his job until Heather left and took another job on the other side of the country and the Academy (Admiralty Trust) took over...now he hates his job and is totally checked out.

And then of course there's Hickey...a problematic parent who has made bringing down Crozier and the school his primary goal. It was very hard to imagine Hickey with a kid but we came to the decision that his daughter was born when he and the girl's mother were like 15, a one-time fling before he figured out his sexuality, and he has Regretted It Ever Since because good GOD this man doesn't want to be a father. He only has her on weekends and isn't in contact with her mother at all. He WANTED to run off to Hawaii like in canon but then his kid's mother said she'd chase him to the ends of the earth for child maintenance if he did. He is NOT a good father, this troubled, angry teenage girl lives off takeaway and pot noodles and they mostly just try to avoid each other when she's at his scummy little flat. HOWEVER, because Hickey is all about his ego, when there are Issues with his daughter at school Hickey takes it as a slight against HIM, and makes revenge his goal.

His daughter also features, she's a 'managed move' student who was nearly expelled from her last school for bringing in a knife. She's very troubled and terrorises the teachers (she's referred to as 'a little terror' in one of the emails...) but she also ends up bonding a little with Crozier, who tries his hardest to turn things around for her. It's just too bad her father wants to cause Problems rather than do anything to ACTUALLY help her.

Anyway yeah. It's mostly comedic but with a few serious issues tackled (like the obvious neglect this girl experiences, for one) - it's mostly been a way for my teacher wife to rant about Academy schools and just the general failings of the UK school system lmao. There is Social Commentary involved.

Anyway it's Coming Soon.

[coy-lee]

Urrrrgh ilovethemilovethemilovethem

England and Scotland are clearly the most stubborn of the UK bros and I JUST. NEED. I NEEEED.

The manga has suggested Scot is the eldest which URGH YES PLEASE, and England is the youngest which is ADORABLE. With their rivalry and natural disposition to be rather closed off, I absolutely see them finding ways to bond, of course denying they had fun afterwards.

I headcanon Scotland is a typical big brother, messing with his younger brothers, typically picking on England since he tends to be the most uptight. He'll give bear hugs and wrestle with them, mess up their hair, put them in headlocks and whatnot. Buuuuut he's also a talented and well practiced tickle monster. He absolutely keeps them on their toes. Squeezing their sides, tickle one side while walking past to make them look only for him to not be there, wrecking them when he wins a wrestling match... (Which happens a lot), and in this case... He uses the tickle taser. He makes sure it doesn't hurt, aiming to make it purely tickle since it always gets a good squeal out of his "victim". If his ticklee starts falling due to wobbly knees, he squats with them and escalates the situation. Poor England knows this, but cant help himself (tho in my hc he's a total glutton and loves the positive attention).

Scotland shows his love through being a butthead, but he is also a teasy bastard and pulls a 180 in personality sometimes when wrecking one of his brothers, choosing to coo and dote to drive them nuts, and especially poke at England's prideful facade in particular. Only time you'll catch him outside of his normal rugged big man attitude.

ANYWAY... I may have to write out all my headcanons for them sometime

[the-uninformed-zennial]

sooo bound band au when

Who said it was gonna be an au

Honestly though, most of the bound characters are giving me orchestra energy, so I feel like a Band AU would be like… a band kid AU if yk what I mean. Like, everyone would be in high school with braces and hormones and trying to find a course to fill their art requirement that wouldn’t absolutely bore them. Yk?

So that being said, here’s the instruments I’d think each Bound character would play and why;

Armor - Vocals <redacted>

Ashril - Funky Roadrunner guy is giving me either some random instrument no one has ever heard of before or keyboard and there is no in between for me personally.

Avalon - Drums. I know I always give the stabby people percussion instruments, but they’re just really good for helping to work out negative emotions okay??

Cosie - flute

Elwood - Canon Elwood would not learn an instrument unless Mojave somehow gaslit him into thinking it would be useful. So fanon Elwood would know piano, cause it’s a classical instrument so it fits the vibes and it’s also one of the most versatile so I think we wouldn’t have to bend Elwood’s character too much to make it fit.

Erin - Erin gives me cello vibes. I feel like the Avicane in general ooze kinda classical instruments, and Erin feels like someone who would want something like a bass but a little lighter and more based on melody. So Cello.

Gaverin - Singer. That bird gives me lead singer vibes so hard. If she isn’t in the front of the stage strutting his newest designs and singing their little heart out like a bird version of Chappel Roan, what exactly are they doing?

Marcel - Viola. It’s just- mmmm. Slightly deeper violin that fits the human range really well… it just screams Marcel to me idk.

Mojave - lead singer/rhythm guitar/songwriter. This is just canon lol

Pietro - Percussion. Not drums like Ava, but specifically like orchestral percussion. I’m talking everything from the huge bass drums to the triangle. I think while Virgil was learning violin Pietro signed up for orchestra too and the director was just like, “here kid, hit this” and Pietro went wild. They’re probably the best percussionist anyone’s seen in a really long time, but she doesn’t really talk about it/show off that much cause they want Virgil to be able to shine. (Guys I’m normal about the birdthers I swear)

Rune - I feel like Rune’s a guitar guy. Like, their vibes are chill and laid back enough to fit it, plus I feel like they’d have a really fun time inventing like pedals and stuff to make the guitar sound different depending on the song and stuff.

Sylph - Triangle. And Kazoo. And singing (badly) /lh

Taliesin - Okay, okay, my thought for Taliesin is that whenever someone asks if they play an instrument they always say something that like no one knows how to play, like Basoon or the Oboe. And then if someone ever asks her to, he’s just like “oh no, sorry, the stars aren’t in the right alignment you see”. And it’s cause they don’t actually know how to play any instruments cause they’re a lyin’ cheatin’ little— anyway (/j we love Tal in this house and they probably play something that’s totally against their aesthetic but easy to learn like Uke or smth)

Vast - Vast plays Clarinet. It’s classic, it’s breathy, it’s something the symphony I mean Avicane would teach. It just feels and sounds right for him. Bonus idea: his sister played the flute and he picked up Clarinet cause he wanted to be in the same section as her

Virgil - Violin. Again, this is just canon. But I feel like Virgil wouldn’t be like the best violinist ngl. In my head he’s like 3rd chair but Pietro always comes up to him after concerts and is like “THATS MY BROTHER!!” And like glares at people until they applaud for him. Virgil knows this. And is incredibly embarrassed by the whole thing, but it’s still kinda endearing.

So yeah, those are my instrument/Band AU thoughts. Do with them what you will

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Chelo Alonso (Sign of Rome Morgan the Pirate La ragazza sotto il lenzuolo)— She was an international star, and she was so hot she had to turn down marrying a prince, and became so famous for being hot that Fidel Castro sent Che Guevara to beg her to go back to Cuba. She was also called the Cuban H-Bomb. She makes me light-headed.

Monica Vitti (L’Avventura, La Notte, Modesty Blaise)— I've been hearing from my dad and uncle about how gorgeous she was since before I even knew I was into women and I can now confirm this mythical status. Also the variety of vibes in her filmography is impressive. She worked with Antonioni, Ettore Scola, Buñuel and other big name directors and also did spy romps and biker girl adventure movies and such. There are many images of her with Alain Delon that have the power to make bisexuals lose their minds I think.

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Chelo Alonso:

"forgive me sending in more pictures of her but i CANNOT be normal about here asdhgkljhahgjkhgkajshgajghshgjl"

Monica Vitti:

I have a soft spot for her because she's not only a very good actor, she's also absolutely gorgeous, stunning, a total babe, funny (*the* most acclaimed comedy actress of her age on the same level of Alberto Sordi and Marcello Mastroianni) AND her voice is super sexy. I know she's not well known outside of Italy so she probably won't get very far, but I submit her so she can at least be known! Check her out she deserves it! I tried to find the USA/UK titles of her films, but in any case she's on imdb.

what can I say but those freckles and those eyes!

She's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, she had such a unique face. She was also a very bright and fun woman, I've watched a particular interview of hers where she talks about comedy and what it means to her and I was mesmerized, she spoke in such a charming and intelligent way. Sadly it's in Italian and I'm pretty sure there are no English subs for it (or for any interviews of hers). She's one of the most famous and beloved Italian movie stars in Italy, she had many leading roles in the 60s and she worked with actor Marcello Mastroianni and director Michelangelo Antonioni, who are both internationally famous.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Do you think maybe Rose actually likes being the “mistress” whether it’s true or not? I mean it’s hard to think anyone would want that, especially knowing their children could hear about what people gossip about, but we don’t actually know anything about this woman, so anything is possible. Also, what are the chances Richard Eden is keeping the Chumley’s name on the press because he knows there’s something more to it? Do you know how it was like for Camilla before? Also, I’m wondering how come Rose was never mentioned before as a potential girlfriend for William? I mean her family has history with the royal family. She runs in that circle. A lot of other aristocratic women around William’s age have been linked to him even though he’s only really been with Kate publicly. Rose is around the same age. I wonder why she was never linked to him before.

No idea. Given the way she reacted to Colbert's talking of her when he discussed the affair rumors on his show, I think she dislikes it and probably wishes she could do more to squash it in the UK but her hands are tied given the way their tabloids and UK society works.

In other words, if she (or William or David or Kate lowered the boom with angry denials, then it's not proving innocence, it's "the lady doth protest too much and she's really got something to hide." Which gives the story legs for days. But if they keep their mouths shut and keep living their lives normally, then hopefully it goes away.

Comparing Camilla to Rose is so different, it's not even apples and oranges; it's apples and airplanes.

There was a ton of physical evidence that Charles and Camilla were having an affair and much of it was reported on by the press. There's no physical evidence that William and Rose have even gone to dinner together without their spouses - just gossip.

Charles and Camilla didn't hide their relationship from the press or society. And since William has never had a poker face, if he's hiding an affair with Rose, then let's give him all the acting awards because he's really pulled one over on us being so stupidly in love with Kate every time they're seen together (with and without cameras around).

Diana herself spoke about the affair and publicly discussed her suspicions with friends and reporters. Kate doesn't even talk to reporters while on her engagements, so she's not going to call one up with a tearful interview about her suspicions that her husband is stepping out.

You could see and watch the total deterioration of Charles and Diana's marriage yourself in photos, videos, and press coverage of their work and tours just by looking at their body language and the way they interacted with each other. The state of William and Kate's marriage is strong - very strong, very healthy, and very committed, as seen in the photos from Trooping.

You can think whatever you want to about Kate, but if she left William in 2007 because he wouldn't commit, she's not going to stick around in a marriage where her husband doesn't respect her.

As for why Rose was never mentioned as a potential girlfriend for teenager William, does it really matter? All this time later? I get your point, but it's not even worth the speculation.

[the-slasher-files]

WORKING HARD OR HARDLY WORKING

JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

A smutty fic totally inspired by a friend who said he was hungry and wanted to leave work so he could eat pussy lol... and Mr Soap is the man with that energy. Fem reader with female anatomy... enjoy🤍🔪

MASTERLIST

A typical rainy UK day had passed you by. Johnny was home from deployment, but he wasn't completely yours, and he never would be. It was something you had accepted in the early stages of a playful, blossoming relationship. The army was his North Star and had melted into the very fibre of his being. Mundane but beautiful, Johnny had risen before the songbirds, brushed his teeth, and swapped the sleep shorts for boxers and his fatigues. Lazily stumbling through the dim light of your bedroom, placing a soft kiss on your temple and headed out to the base.

You would be lying if you had said that the work and life balance did not frustrate you, but he made up for every little moment when Johnny was home. Today was no different.

The clicking of typing and shuffling of papers filled your small office room within your townhouse. Voices over patchy computer microphones faded in and out as your team went over the last quarter of reports and statistics.

"May through June was our best..."

Your manager's voice dragged on as you tapped your pen against the pages of your lined notebook, pursing your lips and watching your bored coworkers upon your screen. That was until you nearly screamed, catching movement behind you on your camera before whipping around with your heart in your throat and wide eyes. It was just your fucking handsome boyfriend making you almost have a heart attack.

"Jesus Christ, John!" You whisper yelled at the scot before quickly muting your mic and shutting your camera.

Normally, the warm and playful energy would be beaming within your space, however, Johnny seemed oddly preoccupied. "Lass, I just..." A frustrated sigh passed his lips, "Had to come home to ya,"

"Is—are you okay?" There was an instant pull of worry on your features, about to stand from your office chair, "Johnny, what's wrong?"

Large hands, gently kept you seated and knelt on the fluffy rug beneath you. Furrowing your brow in concern, the meeting was completely fallen on deaf ears as you cupped his strong jaw, searching for an answer on Johnny's tanned face.

"I needed you" He gruffed out, lust coating each word.

Finally, he gazed up at you with his signature smile and calloused hands smoothing up your thighs.

"Fuckin—" You breathlessly laughed, the worry and concern melting away in his azure eyes.

"I'm hungry" Johnny groaned, thick fingers needing your hips slowly and bowing to kiss each knee.

"Sweetheart, I'm in a meeting right now, but there are leftovers in—"

"No, baby." There was a deepness in his chest when he replied, a tingle sparking within your spine at it. Rough yet skillful fingers almost pulled off the button of your trousers. "I'm hungry for you,"

With a call of his name on your lips, you protested but lifted your hips anyway, allowing your pants to be pulled off and tossed across the floor. Exposed only in your black lace underwear and button-down blouse, your face flushed and breath caught. Each kiss the scot had placed on your soft skin from ankle to thigh lit you on fire. Wetness growing fast as you squirmed beneath his wildfire touch.

"Y/n? ... Y/n?"

You froze at your manager's voice and Johnny just chuckled between your legs, "Continue your meetin' darling"

Cursing under your breath, you turned on your camera and microphone, "Sorry... um, my connection went out for a few m-minutes"

"That's alright, let's review the new topics f—"

"Such pretty little lace" John muttered against your hot core, lips sucking and kisses on the sticky fabric.

Trying to desperately compose yourself, face red and a hand gripping your pen with white knuckles, you flinched once his hot tongue laved across the clinging lace. Nudging your clit softly, those sea blue eyes met yours seeing the struggle, want, need and anger swirling through. He couldn't get enough. Spanking your cunt lightly with a rapid succession, Johnny motioned his head to your computer as your coworker as you question about something you were lost on.

Flying your eyes to the screen, there were puzzling looks, some just zoned out and others awaiting your response. "Sorry, my, um, dog is annoying me," you placed emphasis on the word dog, glancing down quickly to see John's squinted expression. This earned you a gentle warning bite to your clit, wanting to jump back but his hands held you still.

"To answer your question, I have been working closely on this with..." You fought on against the assault of your partner down below, voice professional in placid answers.

Only he could notice the dips and croons within your voice, as he basically spoke directly to your pussy in hushes mumbles, "such a sweet, wet cunt... a needy girl... look how wet she's getting as she tries to focus.."

It was manageable with a steel, stubborn focus you had fortunately been born with, but those walls were crumbling fast. There was a click of a knife, cool metal faster than you could realize and your panties were gone. Hot swipes of his wide tongue made you grip the brown fluffy Mohawk on top of your man's head, fingers tangling within it, reminding you to cut his hair after he ate you alive. Catching your bottom lip to hide a whine, it only made Johnny work faster like a man starved.

The hot magma licked inside the pit of your stomach, managing to reach foreward to mute your mic once the direction of the meeting was turned upon your coworkers, you couldn't help but give out the moan. Needy and wanton, leaning back in your chair, your hips rolled against against his face feeling rough stubble, hot saliva and your own juices now pooling underneath you.

"Fuck, hen... Christ you taste so good" Johnny hummed, the deep vibrations of his voice only made it harder to look normal on your Webcam. "Couldn't stop thinking about this pretty little cunt. Begging me to come home and fuck you..."

"John, J-John" Sweetly, you begged for it feeling so close yet so far in your pleasure.

Bringing the hand that held your pen up to your mouth, chewing on the plastic, hoping you didn't look too suspicious, but in the same breath your shits to give was dwindling. A deep rumble of a groan shot through him, lapping up every single drop of you as he plunged in a finger.

"Oh my god, baby, please" Johnny added a second finger quickly, making you gasp and twist. Your heel digging into the wide plans of muscle that was his back.

He pulled back with a string connecting you two, "Well would you look at this greedy little girl, huh?... Fucking needy angel,"

Flushed, hot cheeks were visible now to your team, along with the obvious wiggles, and you begged this fucking meeting to just be over. John's fingers curled inside you and his skilled lips sucked on your clit, feeling just how close you were it made him chuckle.

"Well, that concludes our meeting fo—"

Instantly, John slammed down your laptop, standing in front of you. Crashing his lips to yours, you grappled against him. Thick muscle flexing under your touch and his fingers pumped faster, noises of your slick, squelched sloppily as your end came strongly inside you. Moaning his name out as his tongue fucked your mouth, the effect of your orgasm splashed his large hand, bringing you slowly down from your high.

"Fucking missed you today" Johnny's accent was heavier with lust, drawing out his fingers to bring them to his own mouth and humming at the taste of you.

"I'm gonna need a good explanation in the next metting." You smiled, breathing heavy.

"It was just your dog" He beemed back, leaning down and laughing against your lips in bliss.

"I need to buy you a collar"

"I'm not opposed to that"

[misssmina]

I have this different (platonic) ships I have and was wondering about your thoughts on them since you really know the characters! I don't like shipping non-compatible characters so your thoughts on if they'll get along or not would really help!

The platonic ships are:

Baku&Camie (I feel like he would put up with her slang bc of dealing with Denki)

Melissa&Deku (They would totally [and did] geek out on tech/quirks)

Baku&Ocha (He already acknowledges her strength)

Kiri&Tamaki (They already work together with FG so I like to imagine Kiri begging Tamaki to spar with him)

Momo&Iida (With being Class president and vice, I feel like they would hang out a lot and develop a friendship that way)

Sero&Todoroki (Todoroki is pretty dense romantically and I think the same applies platonically, but Sero probably approached him after the sports festival because he found him interesting)

Mina&Jirou (Mina helps with Jirou's style and Jirou teaches Mina an instrument [I like to imagine the uke, but maybe something else would suit her better-])

Anyways! These were just some of my platonic thoughts because I've noticed how crazy the fandom is with romance and thought why not mix it up a lil with asking your opinion on them!

So I love these! I’m big on platonic ships.

But here’s the thing,

Bakugou is friends with all the girls (whether he’d admit it or not). Canonically, he gets along with them because they simply do not care about his little attitude issue. My favorite platonic Bakugou pairing is him + anyone in the rich kid club. (Momo, Iida, Todoroki, & Jirou)

Melissa and Izuku but also Monoma (If he can figure out how to stop being a dirt bag). I feel like they all geek out about quirks, especially Monoma because he wants to try them.

Kirishima and Tamaki are already sweet on each other. They both push each other to be better and Kirishima likes to take him on little introvert adventures to make him feel good. (Book cafes, walks, etc)

Momo and Iida, I feel like they get along outside of school very well, but often they’re together for things like press conferences and business meeting, same with Bakugou and Todoroki.

Todoroki and Sero are friends, but I think there’s a very specific dynamic they have. Tired friend + Snarky friend.

Jirou and Mina are BESTIES. Typical yapper+listener friendship. Can be very messy with gossip lol. They are normally who plan dorm activities (movie night, game night, birthday parties, etc). The equal opposite to their friendship is Kirishima and Kaminari.

Sero and Ojiro are best guy friends, they can talk about just calm, normal things. Low energy pals.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for causing my friend to be married off without her consent?

I know that seems very bad, and I DO think it's very very bad, but my friend herself didn't blame me explicitly and thinks none of what happened is my fault, but i still feel guilty about it so I'm leaving the judgement to the Tumblr court. I apologize for the length of this post.

We (27F) have been best friends since we were 6. I'm from the middle east while she is African, this part is very important. She lived here since she was born, however she moved back to her country after graduation, but now lives in the UK with her husband so we've been online friends ever since her graduation.

Anyway, this is something that happened when we were in middle school. We were both 13, my friend confided in me that she has a crush on a certain boy who was also African. She clearly told me not to tell anyone about this, but I went ahead and told her African friends right in front of her. That in itself was very AH of me, I broke her trust and revealed her secret, and I didn't even apologize later.

In our culture a crush is just something to giggle and laugh about, which is why I didn't consider what I did was a big deal and I had a poor judgment not taking in consideration that her culture might perceive things differently.

Anyway, her friends spread the word, and it reached her family. They accused her of being in relationship with him (she wasn't) which is very scandalous in both of our cultures. She was proven innocent and I thought that was the end of it.

However, in high school when we were 17, she had a thing for a different boy, who had the same name as the boy she previously had a crush on, this was hardly a coincidence since Muhammad is a common name. She talked with him and exchanged gifts and that was about it. She set clear boundaries that they can't do anything until marriage, however that all happened behind her parents' back and when she got found, they assumed it was the same boy and that she had been meeting up with him since middle school, so it was hard to believe that they didn't do anything at all. They locked her up at home, took her phone and beat her. She somehow was able to contact a mutual friend, who in return contacted me to help because we were neighbors and could go to my friend's house anytime I wanted. The message I received from our mutual friend wasn't clear, I had no idea what was happening, I was just told to go and stay with her, they assumed her parents wouldn't dare to hit her in front of me and that's why I was needed. Anyway I went and sat with her, they called her to the kitchen so she could get snacks and tea for me, but when she went they closed the door and started beating her up again because they figured she asked for me to come. I was shaking the whole time having no idea what to do, I considered telling my mom but I decided against it because she was a good friend with my friend's mother so she wouldn't believe it, or she'd believe my friend is a bad girl and I wouldn't be allowed to hang out with her anymore.

Thanfully they stopped beating her up after a couple of days, and things went wack to normal.

Later when she was 20, a rich man proposed to her, who was a family friend. He was a total psycho, he stalked her to college, waiting for her outside and did many other creepy things. She told her family, but they didn't believe her. They thought she was making it up because she didn't want to marry him, but they told her she had no choice because she had a bad reputation and no man would want to be with her, and that she was lucky a rich man would want to be with her. They even turned away other suitors because they assumed they'd change their mind if they knew about her past. She has 5 sisters and none of them received the same treatment. She's the only one who was forced to get married because of her reputation.

She accepted her fate and married him. She asked me to attent the wedding, I had no idea if she wanted me for emotional support, or that she just her best friend to be with her in her wedding, but either way I couldn't attend because she was in a whole different continent and I wasn't independent yet to travel on my own, and my family members were busy and couldn't travel with me. My friend was adamant about having me there, she even tried to arrange for her wedding to be held in my country, but her request was denied since most of her relatives wouldn't be able to attend. The only thing I could do to make up for this was to draw myself attending her wedding and hugging her in her wedding dress after she sent her wedding pics.

I kept in contact with her asking how she's doing, how her husband treats her etc, but she told me he was fine, that he seemed like a completely different person and that he loves her for real, and she's happy. It's not as bad as she thought it would be. It was hard to believe considering his previous actions, but what mattered most that my friend was happy.

She moved to the UK with her husband and we lost contact for a while, but when we finally talked she was always busy and could barely talk a lot. Many things were happening in her life and I only knew the gist of it because she didn't always have time to sit down and facetime me. But currently her husband is not so good. I don't know enough details to know if he's abusive or just AH, but he also cheats on her. She is planning a divorce when the time is right, and is glad she's independent enough that her family can't have a say in the matter anymore, but it will be tough on her specially since she has two children so far, and will probably have more before she could arrange for a divorce. I support her with whatever decision she'd makes, but I can't help but think none of this would have happened if I just kept my mouth shut at 13. To this day, I still wonder why she didn't stop talking to me when I did that. I don't think I deserve her friendship, yet to this day, she's alway telling me I'm the most wonderful person she met and that she's very grateful to have me in her life. Throughout the events of this story, she has always vented to me as if wasn't my fault. And all I could do was nodding along. Couldn't even help her or fix the situation, or even say something supportive, but she's grateful to me regardless. Recently she opened up to me at how she can't make friends anymore because she had terrible experiences since her college days, that her so called friends end up hurting her in the worst possible way and she feels none of the friends she will ever make would treat her well like I do. I didn't ask about what she went through (but I plan to once she has time) because I was so stunned that she thinks the way I treat her is any good. I replied by saying that I'm not perfect either, and that I have hurt her so much in the past. She was confused, and asked me to give her an example. I brought up the fact I divulged her secret at 13 but I was surprised she said she didn't remember that but it was probaly a harmless joke and I should stop worrying over something dumb I said as a dumb teenager because for sure I wouldn't act the same way now.

I didn't discuss this further to avoid bringing back terrible memories for her, but I'm shocked how she doesn't remember it considering everything that happened to her because of it. In fact, I started wondering if she even remembers the things that happened to her because of what I did, because if she forgot those too, it could be her brain blocking traumatic memories.

So Tumblr, AITA or am I just over thinking?

What are these acronyms?

[mxjackparker]

With all the propaganda and rhetoric against top surgery that "Gender Criticals" and general transphobes are spreading, here's some info on what top surgery was actually like for me, from surgery all through the healing process! (This post will include some images of drains and a little blood!)

I was diagnosed with gender dysphoria (which is necessary in the UK for surgery) around May 2020 and started testosterone February 2021, all through GenderCare. I got a letter from the gender therapist and a surgery referral from GenderGP and consulted with my surgeon then booked surgery for 14th Feb 2022.

I had to travel all the way to Manchester, on a coach that took many hours, and book a hotel. I raised surgery money via GoFundMe because despite being referred to (now closing) Tavistock GIC in early 2020, my appointment to even be assessed wouldn't have been for over 5 years.

I had a double incision top surgery (double mastectomy) on February 14th 2022 as scheduled! I woke up in a fairly minor amount of pain, still on painkillers from the surgery, with drains. As you can see, I was also so happy that probably made it hurt less!

My top surgery took a few hours. Pre-surgery, my chest size was a 32 H. That's a lot of tissue to be removing, and so I did end up with drains for the first 48 hours after surgery, though drains aren't used as broadly in the UK anymore and not by default.

I was discharged from the hospital the morning after my surgery (some people go home the day of, but I pre-arranged to stay overnight). I took no painkillers after surgery at any point during healing. I was up and walking around from the moment I left!

If you take painkillers, that may make you more fatigued and/or constipated, so those things are totally normal. If you need painkillers, you should absolutely take them - it's not a point of pride to suffer more than you need to. I didn't take any painkillers because I have a history of addiction to them. However, I found the pain entirely tolerable even despite the lack of medication.

The evening after I was released from the hospital, I was pacing my hotel room carrying my drains! Moving promotes healing and prevents blood clots. I was very hunched!

Directly after surgery I got to briefly see my chest, but not for long given that I needed to have the compression vest on! I didn't have too much swelling, so I could see what my chest actually looked like and was so excited. Once I got my drains out, I got to see it for longer!

The pain post-surgery was manageable. I had to bend forwards a little when walking so as not to pull on my stitches and make it hurt more, but I never took any painkillers and the pain was never intense enough to make me feel compelled to. I kept wearing my compression vest!

The drains were honestly the most painful part of the experience for me, and once they were out the most pain I felt was from my back from walking hunched forward. I wore the compression vest on and off for 2 weeks then abandoned it completely, because I had such little swelling.

3 weeks after surgery, I got my dressings off (except nipples). I could see the full scar. I told my surgeon I wanted scars that were mostly straight, and that combined with the size of my chest meant the scars needed to meet in the middle in a little triangle.

Everyone's scar shape is different, and you should talk to your surgeon about what you want. I didn't want semi-circle shape scars, because I wanted the scar to follow my pectorals so I'd have the option in the long-term of fading/medical tattooing and mostly hiding the scar.

3 weeks after top surgery, I was well-healed enough that I went into London for the Sex Work Strike and did a speech there! I was well-recovered by this point, though still fatigued. (A link to my speech if you're interested.)

Around a month, I took off the nipple dressing as instructed by my post-op nurse, and one was healed enough for no dressing but the other took about another week to be as healed. Healing isn't perfectly symmetrical.

Once all of my dressings were off and I was able to probably clean my nipples and scars, I got to see the full result of my chest. This is the thinnest my scars ever were, because they hadn't developed as scars yet - they were healed shut but weren't done scarring.

Once I was past a month of healing, all of the physical effects of top surgery had dissipated. I was no longer fatigued, my scars didn't hurt (though they did itch!), and I was in the secondary healing phase. My chest below the top of the nipple had minimal sensation.

I got phantom sensations, like water being poured over my chest, as the nerves reconnected. It wasn't painful, but it was weird! By month 2, I regained full sensation in most of my chest, with very little sensation on the scar and the skin directly between it and my nipples.

I have pretty much full sensation (including erotic sensation) in my nipples now. It's important to note: double incision almost always results in some loss of sensation, especially in the nipples. I'd have been fine with that, and this was an extra bonus for me!

This is my chest and scars 8 months after surgery.

And this is my chest now, just over 2 years after top surgery:

I'm very happy with how it looks, with how it feels, and I have zero regrets!